#scout collins

[warpedwings]

Misha Collins and Jensen Ackles through the years before Supernatural.

1994

Misha in University of Chicago yearbook. [Front Left]

Jensen on cover of Boy Scouts catalog. [Back Left]

2005 2004 2003 2002 2001 2000 1999 1998 1997 1996 1995 1992 1991 1990 1987/1989 1985 1982 1978

[myghanimationspage]

Feel free to use just give me (Linda) the credit for the animation if you use elsewhere…thanks

PLEASE dont use my animations to make other animations or banners with it. I work hard on my animations  and I dont want people to use them to make other fanarts

[treepsap]

[fivefeetfangirl]

Okay so i tried finding out more about the tickets to purcon 8, which are all sold out now (except 1-day tickets). It seems like the silver and premium are sold out for sure, but gold and vip have some left which will be released in July (some said June). The section 6-7 tickets will be released 14th and 30th september, as it says on the website

[thewolvesof1998]

🌲 name your 5 favourite christmas songs and pass this on to a blog you love 🌲

Hi love!!!!!

Gurl I have a whole Christmas playlist that’s six hours long this is the perfect ask for me (but also the worst because I it was so hard to choose):

1. I want a hippopotamus for Christmas by Gayla Peevey - this was easy because when I first heard this song like 5 years ago I knew it was going to be an all-time favourite.

2. Mele Kalikimaka by Bill Crosby and the Andrew Sisters (but I quite like the Kasey Musgraves cover)- again I heard this song five years ago and I'd never heard a Christmas song about warm Christmas which is what I grew up with.

3. I don't know what Christmas is (but Christmas time is here) by Old 97's- This is a new love, It was made for the Marvel Guardians of the Galaxy Christmas special but I love it so much.

4. Santa aint coming to town (he's drinking this year) by Thomas Mac- I don't know it just silly and I love it.

5. Happy Xmas (war is over) by John Lennon (I also love the cover by Miley Cyrus.)- A true classic, can't have Christmas without some old school rock Christmas songs and this is one of my favs.

thanks for your ask <3<3<3

My Christmas Playlist

[ashleighneville]

Fuck is going on with Cymru by the way seems an absolute mess. Of course we knew there was going to be a drop off post bale while the team re established itself but you'd have thought they'd at least have a plan? It's like Bale was the only thing holding them together ffs. Page seems to have completely given up, got four goalkeepers but no established no.1, called up morrell and Moore despite them being suspended for the qualifier match instead of trying out some new players no wonder they're struggling to sell tickets.

[guruofthefanart]

I was good friends with my girl scout leader and her husband for years, better friends than I was with *any* of the girls my age there, And in highschool, when I was bullied and dealing with the start of a long abusive relationship, my math teacher, who was weird and harsh, was one of my best friends. When my grandma died, he hugged me and it wasnt weird or creepy, he told me about his parents and grandparents and took his entire prep period to make sure I was okay. He used to let me "borrow" late passes and forge his signature on them. He was the first adult I had an actual conversation about politics with that actually listened to me.

In a safe environment, with other adults you can go to if your ever worried, being friends with adults as a kid is legitimately a good way to learn for your elders and get insight that comes with decades more experience than you possess. Or even just hear a grown ass man in his 60s ramble on for a good hour about otter facts

Sometimes when people on the Internet are like "ADULTS CAN NEVER INTERACT WITH MINORS IT'S CREEPY" I remember how, at 12, back in 1997, I was on the Witchvox forums with people ranging from me to people in at least their 50s, and no one there was ever a creep to me, no one ever made me feel uncomfortable or asked for my personal info, and when I finally broke down after a particularly brutal day of bullying at school and posted about it they were the first adults I'd ever met in my entire life who told me the bullies were the problem and it was okay to be angry about it.

Kids need to interact with adults who will listen to them.

[intomusings]

ೀ ﹒﹒  favorite   names   compilation    !

ur   fav   musings   girly   again   here   with   the   first   of   my   christmas   goodies   .   my   favorite   thing   to   do   is   these   name   compilations   so   i   decided   to   create   another   masterlist   of   my   absolute   favorite   ones   (   some   old   ,   mostly   new   )   anyways   all   i   ask   is   that   if   u   found   this   useful   ,   u   like   or   reblog   to   show   ur   support   .   i   hope   everyone   is   enjoying   the   holiday   season   ♡

- a : abella, ardella, ares, aire, arden, ayla, arie, alder, august, aymes, atlas, alina, alora, aryn.

- b : beau, babette, belle, blake, briar, bronte, banks, boston, bishop.

- c : cassiel, clara, celeste, camden, chandler, collins, clay, cartier, chanel, cosima.

- d : dove, dream, danica, delaney, drue, denver, dacey, delcy, darcy, dahlia.

- e : elodie, emory, emrys, elio, elowynne, emerson, evie, edie, estoria, esme, effy, evans.

- f : flora, faye, fallon, ford, forbes, finnick.

- g : gaia, geles, greer, gensen.

- h : hera, hudson, hampton, heath, harlowe.

- i : isla, inara, ilia.

- j : juniper, josefine, jane, jovie, joey.

- k : kiersten, kairo, kaia, kian, kouvr, keanu.

- l : lysander, lanie, lorena, lawson, lux, ludo, lourdes.

- m : marla, marigold, maren, maeve, marlowe, miller, monet.

- n : neah, north, nola, nell, noel, nariah, niamh, nami.

- o : ozzy, orion.

- p : presley, posy, pearl, porter, pacey, paxon.

- r : reed, ruelle, raya, romey, ryker, rhode, reign, rafe, rohan, raiden, remi, rion, rhiannon, reece, river, raine, rumer, reem, rhys.

- s : selah, soraya, sarifya, savion, sloane, sol, soren, scout, saint, striker, serafina, sabina, sutter.

- t : teal, twila, tristan, tobie, tripp, teague, tate.

- v : vienna, vega, vera, vincenzo.

- w : wren, winter, winona, winnie, wilder, weston.

- x : xaverie, xylah, xiomara, xander.

- y : yves, yara.

- z : zephyr.

[aggro-my-beloved]

Long In The Tooth (LaskoxDear)

note: happy soulmate september! my heart’s probably still beating out of my chest with excitement when you’re reading this. brb, i’m off to listen to the milo panic attack audio but interact with this if you wanna (pretty pls) summary: *aging stops at 18 until you meet your soulmate* [lasko’s been eighteen for six years now, and frankly, he’s becoming sick of playing a juvenile. what makes his endeavor for a soulmate even more bewildering? they’re one of his students.] pairing(s): LaskoxDear (romantic), GavinxFreelancer (romantic), LaskoxDamien (non-platonic?) warning(s): none word count: 3k estimated reading time: 12 mins

taglist: @ther3alsweetheart @darlin-collins @professionallyyappinabtangst @elles-roses

“SO BE LOOKING FOR AN EMAIL FROM ME f-for your class schedule. Again, I'm sorry about not having a…physical copy on hand.” Lasko combs a clammy hand through his disheveled hair, sparing a discreet glance at his leather satchel lying by his feet. It defends an entire ream of charred papers, originally for the pool of students that Lasko has been bestowed the responsibility of meeting today, but instead, it mocks him. “My printer ran out of ink.”

His run-in with the stubborn fire elemental without patience for one's troubleshooting of his agenda went worse than the guidance counselor envisioned—a surprise to Lasko, who always depicts the worst scenarios before plunging head-first into any social situation. Guess what Freelancer said was true: you think better on your feet than in the air, he reflects. 

“No worries. It’d be my luck,” The student laughs awkwardly, silently inviting Lasko to muster one of his own. 

“Well, before I send you off, do you have my questions for me?” His hands press onto the thick desktop glass, shielding the wood. One spilled cup of coffee too many, and a sputtering request to the Dean was all it took to gain that.

“I do have one.” Lasko’s heart begins thumping uncontrollably, and he thanks every deity above that the water elemental is also not an experienced telepath. What will they ask me? Maybe they want to pick my brain about the theory of shade resurgence. How much research have they done on me as an alumnus? Perhaps they find me unfit to be a counselor and a professor, being human-reared. They don't think I have the history, nor the fundamental teachings from my unempowered parents. Oh, who are you kidding Lasko? They’re probably wanting to know which food from the cafeteria won’t give someone massive—

“You look a little young to be a counselor, don’t you?” As if intrigued by their curiosity, the student creeps forward in the armchair sat opposite Lasko’s, and finds respite for their folded arms on the mahogany desk between them. Before Lasko’s lips could part, the pupil emits a gasp at their presumption. “I’m so sorry, please take that as a compliment. Your soulmate must be lucky to have someone with such a…youthful glow.” The excruciating cringe on their face is palpable (and noticeably lacking age lines), but Lasko revels in the sight of it. For once, he is not the one digging a grave mid-conversation. 

He could only muster a chuckle, eyes settling on his chewed-down fingernails and fidgeting knuckles—the only visible skin on his body that had wrinkles. This presumption is one he’s been unwillingly catering to for his past six years under the university, and his answer, like his relationship status, is unchanging. 

He offers a modest shrug. “Y-yeah, counselor, and professor. B-but you…you’re not wrong. I only look this young because I haven’t met mine yet—soulmate, I mean.” The pinch on the bridge of his nose from his glasses feels abnormally tight as he gauges the student’s reaction. A curious raise of the brow, slow nod—awed. And rightfully so, with how capable and convenient the modern age has made it to scout for one’s “better half.” Apps and chat rooms galore in addition to personal soulmate seekers (a bunch of glorified PIs with hopeless romantic tendencies, as Lasko refers to them) for hire. These things leave a person little reason to go more than a year after eighteen with no celebrated crow'sfeet or growing pains. People think he’s inept or simply non-committal. Lasko considers himself stodgy for yearning to encounter his soulmate organically.

“Well, if it’s any reassurance, you aren’t the only one.” They don’t elaborate, and Lasko doesn’t pry. He remains seated, silently watching them wrangle each strap of their backpack over their shoulders. “Thank you again for the chat, Mr. Moore.” 

“Ah, just Lasko is fine. I’m not near old enough for all that 'mister' stuff.” At least, I don’t look like it, he tacks on mentally.

“Right. I guess I’ll see you around then.” 

He clarifies, “Monday at ten,” which earns him a tilted head. “For DAMN 101, which should be on the schedule that I'llemail you.” A small, upward twitch of their lips leaves Lasko satisfied with the conversation but prepared for the tens of other students who will receive the same news. 

“I can’t wait.” 

He hopes for his sake that the rest are as understanding as this one. 

“Well well, professor, how was orientation today?” Had the man still not reeked of liquid smoke and sweat from his earlier encounter with the fire elemental, or suffered from cramping fingers and aching wrists from the barrage of emails he sent out today, Lasko’s answer may not have been so curt. 

A trace of a scowl lingered in his voice, “Not in the mood, Gav.” At the evil hiss of his name, the demon transferred his gaze from the television to the strung-out university employee entering the den. Lasko makes a show of shrugging off his blazer and settling his fatigued body into the armchair perpendicular to the sectional Gavin and his soulmate were occupying. His roommate proceeds to turn his attention to him, chorting sarcastically, “Who pissed in your Wheaties this morning?” Freelancer takes the opportunity to bury their face in the bared crook of Gavin’s neck, releasing a languid sigh of contentment. 

Lasko strives to obscure his frown, but the envy boiling in the depths of his stomach wins while the muscles of his jaw tighten. “Some fire elemental with serious anger issues almost sent me up in flames with my office, destroyed all of my paperwork, and cost me two and a half hours of emailing students their schedules and trying not to sound passive-aggressive. Do you realize how hard it is to type ‘Please see attached for your semester schedule. Thank you.’ without sounding like the biggest assho–”

Amidst his rant, Freelancer’s head pops up from the den between Gavin’s neck and collarbone. “You met Damien?” 

The question Lasko volleys is an answer in itself. “You know him?” Wide eyes with a visible twitch urge Freelancer to dig through the sofa cushions for their phone. 

“Yeah, he texted me earlier. A whole string of back-to-back messages about some university nobody screwing him over with his schedule. I didn’t think anything of it until…” They purse their lips. Lasko watches his friends’ eyes soaking in his appearance–blackened shirt cuffs, tousled tendrils of hair, and all. Should Lasko be expecting some vengeful threat? A stolen personal belonging replaced with a ransom note? A dead sprite in a wrapped box outside his office door? 

“How mad was he?” He scrubs his hands against his face, hoping to wipe the day away with his sour expression. 

“I wouldn’t check your Rate My Professor anytime soon.” Lasko throws his head back in defeat. Tarnishing his paperwork and his reputation in a single day? The ransom note wasn’t looking as unfavorable in comparison. 

“I thought it’d be water that didn’t get along with fire,” Gavin muses with a smirk. Lasko’s mind trails away from the soot-stained carpet of his office to the friendly water elemental he had the pleasure of speaking with earlier. Their curious nature and self-loathing sense of humor is something Lasko would have never considered himself attracted to, seeing as Gavin’s unyielding confidence and inflated ego always put his stomach through a spin cycle. 

A sharp inhale from Freelancer resounds through the house. “Oh my goodness, Lasko!” Instantly, he was patting down his body, checking his pulse, and looking around for the nearest mirror. He already knew he looked like shit, what was the big deal? 

“What, what is it?” Still, he turned his head every which way expecting a large bug or “kick me” sign on his back from Damien—perhaps the earlier onslaught of flames was merely a distraction. Or, the man’s just paranoid, per usual. 

“You have smile lines!” As if imitating a mirror, Freelancer offers a ballooning grin of their own, presenting the faint creases surrounding their lips to him. “You thought you could meet your soulmate and just not tell us?” They motion excitedly between themselves and Gavin, who was absorbing the scene before him. 

“I-I didn’t though, did I?” Did he? He thinks back to all of the students he spoke with earlier in the day, Damien included. A shiver courses down his spine at the thought—he’s always heard the saying ‘opposites attract’ but having a soulmate who wanted to momentarily kill him seems like a stretch. Having a soulmate be one of the many bodies in his class is equally as horrific, but—as he now recognizes—a possibility. “Holy shit, I-I met my soulmate.” 

Gavin inquires after a few seconds, “Who are they?” 

Lasko's head darts up, donning a veil of “oh fuck” on his visage. “I have no idea.” 

Much to Gavin’s chagrin and Freelancer’s enthusiasm, the couple agreed to aid him in compiling a list of the students he’d met in the last twenty-four hours, and omitting the ones who’ve been blessed to find their other half, according to Freelancer’s in-depth “research” when inputting their names online. 

“Sami Tryst is in my Thursday lab! They’ve got an engagement ring, though.” 

“Hudson Lang won a medal in the E&E games last year. He thanked his partner in his acceptance speech.” 

“Jacquelyn Gardner?” Freelancer snorts with a shaking head. “Definitely not your type.” 

Lasko’s head hinges up from the sheet of paper he was eyeing—scrawled with names, and taken straight out of Freelancer’s DAMN 101 notebook. With furrowed brows and an insulted scowl, he beckons “How would you know?”

“She has an eyebrow slit and ‘grade-a carpet muncher’ written in her Instagram bio next to her girlfriend’s name. You really wanna try competing with that, professor?” Lasko stays quiet, even through the contagious mixture of laughs flying around the room from the couple. 

He finally mutters, “Whatever”, and is nonetheless satisfied with a name being crossed off of the list. Four hours and one order from Max’s Rustic Pizza later, the trio is splayed across the living room carpet. Three names remain uncrossed on the sheet, staring back at them tauntingly. 

“Wait, you forgot about Damien.” Freelancer reminds Lasko with a small nudge. Not that he needed the reminder, but a small part of him was hopeful that leaving him off of the list would rule out the chance of them being soulmates entirely. His hands are reluctant when grabbing the pen set beside him, but are deft when writing the fire elemental’s first name below the rest. A last resort. 

“This is-it’s so…so stupid! I mean, aren’t you s-supposed to feel something when you first meet your soulmate? Like, I don’t…I don’t know, butterflies in your stomach or-or, or lightheaded?” Lasko exasperates, tossing the paper aside. It flutters to the ground and lands face-down on the carpet. 

“My jeans felt a little tighter when I met you, deviant.” Gavin’s admission is not lost on Freelancer or Lasko. The professor shields his face from the luminous ceiling fan whirling above him, both his arms locked over his eyes. As he does this, he jerks up and emits a harsh grunt.

“Agh, my neck. What the hell?” He sits up to allow his fingers to assess the tight skin. The invisible knot is yanked once more when he tilts his head too far to the left. “Ow!”

In unison, Gavin and Freelancer are quick to diagnose it. “Growing pain.” Freelancer adds with a fond smile, “It means they’re thinking of you.” 

His head snaps towards them excitedly, and this time, he grits his teeth and bears the stiffening of his muscles. “That’s it! I know exactly how to find them.” An accomplished smile overcomes his face. Complemented by his bloodshot eyes, something unsettling brews in the pits of Freelancer’s stomach. 

“Okay, can you stop looking at me like that now? It’s creepy.” 

“I would, but I don’t think I can move my neck anymore…” 

The awkward quiet grows thicker with every student that files into Lasko’s classroom the following Monday morning, broken occasionally by a squeaking chair or thump of a bookbag colliding with the floor. He studied the roll call list the entire weekend like he was presenting a dissertation, but now that he had reached the time to present, only four names were on his mind. 

“G-g-good morning every-everybody. My-my n-name is Lasko Moore, and I’ll be your professor for DAMN 101 this semester. Don’t think of this as a refresher course of things you may have learned in past institutions, b-but an opportunity to gain knowledge of…of Dahlia’s magical entities, specifically.” He’s afraid if he breathes too deeply, the hefty silence will suffocate him. “Now, I-I’m aware it's a bit—it’s a bit rudimentary to take attendance, but this is only for me to become acquainted with all of you. I’ll only do this for the first few classes until I’m comfortable putting names to faces.” 

The professor wastes no time going down the list. Each name he uttered–even ones that had been crossed off from the list–he let settle into the silence while concentrating his thoughts specifically on that person. It is the most foolish theory he's tested in a while, but he is desperate to know who could complete him so marvelously, and remain so subtle about the fact. The further down the list he goes, the tighter his airway constricts when he sees no visible flinch or sign of pain from any of his students. 

Hesitantly, he chokes out the next name on the sheet.

“Damien Rhone.” He looks up to find no hand raised, nor the rest of Damien’s body. Seconds tick by without a response, and Lasko feels even more on edge due to the lack of his presence. If the names that follow elicit no reaction from any of the students, either his “fool-proof” plan would be marked a failure, or he’d have to settle with the fact that he and his soulmate wouldn’t have the cutest “how we met” story amongst his friends. There’s a lot that can beat a late-night run into seven-eleven, but almost going up in flames might have to take second place. 

As he feared, the last name on the list gets crossed off when he marks the student present (and taken) judging by the early age spots marking their skin. He huffs but doesn’t make his agitation any more visible. After all, he is at work and his soulmate…who knows where they are. Hosting this lecture felt more taxing than all the others he’s taught within the last six years at the university. Discussing DAMN’s cornerstone neighborhoods for different magical beings is something he merely cites, amid his daydreams of arriving home to a relaxing cup of tea and a lengthy video essay to put him to sleep on his couch. The thought became so enticing, that he cut the class short by a whole twenty minutes and sent each departing student with instructions to acclimate to the university campus. While shoveling manilla folders and stray pens into his bag, he gets interrupted by a tap against his shoulder. 

“Excuse me, Lasko?” He cranes his neck at the voice, dripping anxiety. They offer their name and elaborate when Lasko furrows his brows. He swears he can feel a crease in between them that wasn’t there last night. “We met yesterday. I made a fool of myself, and then you said you’d email me my schedule. You never called my name when you were taking attendance, though. This is DAMN 101, right?” 

Lasko recalls their conversation vividly. He was post-adrenaline rush and flustered as all hell, but somehow their blunders were enough to take the edge off of him and his “broken printer”. Now, he studies the crease between their eyebrows. It wasn’t there when they met originally when they inquired about his age and backpedaled into embarrassment trying to fix their mistake. “Yes, it is. And  I’m so sorry for leaving you off the roll call sheet, I’m not sure what happened.” 

Halfway through their understanding nod, they emit a wince and introduce the nape of their neck to their hand. “I-it’sokay, I just wanted to double-check.” Lasko tilts his head, blue eyes turning into twinning seas of concern. 

“Are you feeling alright, dear?” 

“I think I may have slept wrong.”

“What are the chances of it being a growing pain?” Lasko voices his internal demand, throwing caution to the wind, as it were. 

“I’d say fat chance because I don’t have a…” They lock eyes with the man before them. Sleeves buttoned to elbows and crooked frames and smile lines. Crow’s feet decorated his orbital rims like fireworks and the creases of his hands mimicked scored clay. “Oh.” 

“That's about the reaction I was expecting.” 

“I’m sorry, but to be fair, this is new to both of us. Tomorrow I might wake up beside you but I’ll have gray hairs sticking out. Nobody prepares you for that kind of stuff.” Was this a rejection disguised in a prophecy? Lasko will have to hand it to them, it’s one of the more poetic ways to turn someone down.

“If-if y-you’d like to wait b-before we j-jump into…jump into anything, that’s fine. I just, I uh…I just wanted to find you. So bad.” 

“What? No, of course, I want this! I want you—I mean…this is just a lot to take in. Aren’t you supposed to feel something when you meet the person? Like increasing body temperature or…” They carry on rambling, with Lasko admiring no more than a foot away. A fond smile adorns his face, pink lips settled high on his cheeks and draped like a streamer. 

He had found them. 

“Excuse me, Professor Moore?” A panting voice interrupts their discovery as the two watch a student barreling toward Lasko with clear desperation. “I’m so sorry about being late. Did I miss anything important?” His eyes flutter around the room, finding all of the seats bare. “Where the hell is everyone?” 

“Hey, Dames! Meet my soulmate, Lasko. Lasko, this is Damien, my stepbrother.” 

“Soulmate!”

“S-stepbrother?”

soulmate september schedule | main masterlist | abt author

[oensible]

[Video description: Clip of the Remenda Rush pregame segment from the TBL@SJS game on 2024 Jan 2 that begins with the end of his spotlight on Collin Graf and ends partway through his spotlight on Marc-Édouard Vlasic.

GRAF SEGMENT TRANSCRIPT (over clips of Graf skating around in the pregame warmup): —he could be a playmaker. When you look at the scouting reports on him and when you look at—you watch him play, one thing that you really like about him is that you can see that he's got a 200 foot game. I know it's a cliché but he does really try to play the full game. And he will, I think in the future, be a guy who is a scorer in this league.

Graf segment ends. Around the end of the Graf segment the broadcast cuts to Drew talking at the bench, slowly zooming out to reveal that Pickles is casually standing by the bench and reaching over to repeatedly poke Drew in the butt with the knob of his hockey stick until Drew mentions him, then he skates away.

DREW: And the guy who's poking me right now; it's so good to see him back in the lineup, number 44, Marc-Édouard Vlasic, Pickles. What can you do? Well it's his first game back.

PICKLES SEGMENT TRANSCRIPT (over clips of Pickles skating around in the pregame warmup): Right? It couldn't come at a better time. What Marc-Édouard Vlasic does is he knows the temperature of the team. He knows when to make a joke; he knows when to be serious. He knows when to speak up; he knows when not to. He can still close on guys, he can still make good plays with his stick, he's excellent defensively, and they need that help tonight against the Tampa Bay Lightning.

Video description end.]

@proceedwcandy !!!!

[joshsindigostreak]

I See Hell in Your Eyes

Chapter Twelve

“I’ll never let your heart go where mine’s been.”

Vampire!Josh x Vampire!Reader

Authors Note: Hello lovelies!!! Bringing you another chapter with our Sweetheart and Boy Scout. Kind of a different chapter but I hope y’all love it! We love lore drops. As always my inbox and DMs are always open and I love feedback! Enjoy!! 🩸🖤

Word Count: 6,339

Warnings: Brief SMUT at the beginning, descriptions of disease, marital infidelity, descriptions of blood.

“Oh, fuck…”

Your thighs shook on either side of your Vampire’s head while your fingernails dug into the wooden headboard you were bracing yourself on. His mouth was firmly latched onto your core, and had been for the last three orgasms. Every time you tried to let up or move away his hands dug even harder into your thighs to keep you in place, sensitivity be damned. Followed by a muffled, “one more…” beneath you. 

You were about to come again, and you were unsure if you were going to be able to remain upright afterwards. You could also feel Josh’s fangs against your folds, which not only turned you on even more but let you know that you were in for a bite soon. He had held back from biting you the whole night, as if he was testing himself to see how long he could go without giving in. 

One of the benefits of Josh being a Vampire was that that skilled tongue of his never tired, and he would try to drown himself in you. It genuinely surprised you at how insatiable he was, but you’d never complain. While you had had good lovers in the past, no one had ever truly made it their mission to spoil you like Josh did. Part of you was still getting used to this amount of loving attention. It had been a long time since you had felt anything remotely close. 

At this point you were grinding onto his mouth, chasing your release. It wasn’t long before you were hurtled over the edge, crying out even louder than before as one hand hit the wall and the other was buried in his curls to keep him in place. He moaned against your core, sending shockwaves through your body as he continued to work you through it. 

As with the other rounds, as soon as you tried to get up he held you back down. 

“Boy Scout I don’t think I-”

However, this time it wasn’t to dive back into you. Instead he turned his head to his left and sank his fangs into your thigh, unable to hold back any longer. 

You relaxed into him as he drank from you, and a  serene smile spread across your face. Your grip in his hair softened, and you lovingly moved the sweaty curls off his forehead. 

Meanwhile, your Vampire was lost in his own world. Or more accurately, your world and memories. Josh immediately recognized the man with you from previous memories, and his brows knitted together as the scene played in his mind. 

It was late, and you and Collin were being Those People by keeping the boutique open well past their closing time. 

“I really like this one…” he whispered in your ear which caused you to giggle a little too loudly. The two of you were looking at a perfume display in the back of the store. “I want to smell it on you…later…” he whispered even quieter, smirking as he did so. 

You looked down at the bottle,  Bouquet de la Reine was written on the front label. It was very, very floral, particularly with Jasmine notes. But you liked it, and Collin seemed to like it even more. But one detail stopped you from committing to it. 

“Aren’t you worried she’ll also smell it later?”

Collin rolled his eyes, “even if she does I can come up with an excuse. She never asks questions anyway, you know that.” 

You turned to him and smiled, not even batting an eye at what he said, “let’s get this one!”

The last thing Josh saw was a smarmy smile on Collin's face before the memory vanished. With one last swallow of your blood, he carefully pulled his fangs from your flesh. He looked up to stare at you, loving the view he had from this angle. His hands released your thighs and you collapsed next to him. The dim lighting in the room made the sheen of sweat that covered you nearly shine, and the flush in your cheeks even more pronounced. He shifted so he was laying next to you, and leaned over your face before softly lowering his mouth to yours, allowing you to taste yourself in more than one way. 

Later on, after you cleaned up and were settled back in bed before the sun rose, Josh couldn’t help but replay that memory over and over in his head. He wasn’t jealous that you had past lovers, at least not a lot, but he was very curious as to Collin’s importance since you had never mentioned him at all. 

You turned to your Vampire, ready to cuddle up and sleep through the day. But he had a weird look on his face. The wheels in his head were turning behind those big brown eyes.

“Sweetheart…can I ask you something?” His voice was soft, timid even. 

You nearly snorted at him. He could ask you anything, he knows that. 

“Of course you can, Boy Scout,” letting out a small airy laugh. 

Josh sat up, wanting to face you properly. He didn’t want to be nosy, but he had to ask at least one question so that his mind would calm down about the subject. 

“Whose…whose Collin?” 

The sound of his name made you freeze. It had been nearly a century since you had even talked about him, which was on purpose. You hated even thinking of the man. 

“How do you-” 

“From your blood, babe,” he reached over for your hand, trying to convey that he was only curious. 

Of course. Of fucking course. You had been very naive to think that he wouldn’t come across any memories of Collin. You had 35o years of memories, what were the chances he’d land on those. You mentally kicked yourself for not even preparing for this question, or for him to be brought up. But you were optimistically thinking that Collin was dead and buried, both figuratively and emotionally. You sat there, staring at your curious lover, trying to figure out a place to start. 

“Collin was…Collin was someone from my past.” 

“I gathered that, sweetheart.”

You bit your lip before continuing, “we were together for a short period of time. Nearly three years.” 

Three years is a long time, at least to Josh who was still within the first year of being Undead. Collin was more significant than he thought. 

“Oh…an ex boyfriend?” 

You shook your head, “not necessarily, but we were together physically.” You were ashamed of the other details. That he had been married that entire time, and that you were complacent in his infidelity. “I’m not very proud of it, Josh.” 

This made him even more confused and curious, “why?”

You took a few deep breaths, preparing your words.

 

“He was…well he was married all of those years.” You looked down at your joined hands, not able to look at Josh quite yet. You didn’t want him to think that this was a habit of yours. 

He was silent, but his thumb rubbed across your knuckles. 

“It was a long time ago and it was the first and last time I’d ever been in that situation before and I’m not proud of it ok but it happened and-”

Your rambling was cut off with his lips on yours, both silencing you and comforting you. As he pulled away, your eyes betrayed you and began to water. 

“You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to,” he whispered. 

But you were you. You didn’t want this hanging over your head, anxious on the other shoe dropping and Collin coming up again down the line. No, you needed to rip the bandaid off. 

“No it’s ok I just haven’t spoken about this in a long time,” you started. 

“We met in a park…” 

It was Spring, late Spring. The sun had set a little over two hours ago, and you were taking your evening stroll through one of the parks near the hotel you were staying at. Most of the flowers had closed up for the night already, but you were still able to smell them as you passed. At this point your routine was simple: walk the park, spot someone alone, Persuade them to follow you behind the trees, have your dinner, and send them on their way with no memory of the encounter. When it came to hunting, less was more. You never fed in the same place twice, and you always varied on who you chose to lead away from the path. 

Tonight, the moon was half full, with just enough light in the sky to cast perfectly convenient shadows in the local flora. Your dress was a very calculated shade of green, that would help you blend in even more. Not too emerald to stick out amongst the more dull colors of the general public, but just green enough to look at home in the ivy. 

You were on your third lap of the park, and out of sheer boredom you chose to sit down on a lonely bench along the path. You hoped you hadn’t missed your window to pick up a proper meal. Just before you gave up and took another lap, a man sat down beside you. A rather striking man. 

“What is a woman as beautiful as you doing in a park all by herself? Alone at night?”

Your gaze snapped in his direction, ready to Persuade him behind a tree and take your chance. But his icy blue eyes stopped you. They reminded you of a wolf with the way they looked right through you. They were eyes so pretty that you knew he could get whatever he wanted by a mere expression. The rehearsed lines died on your tongue. 

“Can’t a woman enjoy the night air?” You managed to get out. 

“Well of course. But by yourself? You never know who is lurking around the corner.”

If only he knew.

“What are you suggesting, sir?” Your patience was growing thin, but not enough to overpower the sheer awe you had at admiring his cheekbones. 

He smiled in a way that didn’t scream smarmy, it was in a way that was genuine, and in a way that made you intrigued. 

“Oh I’m merely offering my arm for the evening. So you can enjoy this…night air…unbothered.” 

Your face twitched as you swallowed down the laugh that threatened to bubble up. Instead, you gave a pleasant smile back.

“And does my guardian for the evening have a name?”

He slowly reached down to take your hand and bring it up to his lips, “Collin Irving, at your service m’lady.” He looked up from your knuckles with a cheeky glint in his eyes. Those bright blue eyes. 

You relented, and the two of you stood up and started down the path. Chatting with Collin was easy. He had a charm about him that was rare, and a captivating way to tell stories. He had you giggling like a schoolgirl, and you weren’t the giggling type. He asked about you of course, and the most you told him was your name and that you were traveling from America. He asked a few more probing questions but at this point in your life you were an expert at giving someone just enough information that made them feel like they knew more than they did. 

The evening came to an end a little over two hours later, having realized the two of you had walked the park nearly five times. You still hadn’t eaten, and you still hadn’t Persuaded him in order to do so. By the third lap you realized you didn’t want to make him a meal. He was too charming to be a one time thing. The thought of Persuading him to forget your face and to forget his night in the park made your chest seize. No, that couldn’t happen. Not to him. 

He ended up walking you back to your hotel, dropping you off just far enough to keep people from starting any rumors. But close enough that he memorized the hotel, and thought of your beaming face and delicate laugh all the way home. To his wife. 

“We started meeting up at the park every night. It was innocent at first. Just two people walking and talking. The chaste ways of that time period helped, but eventually fingers brushing against each other turned into a proper hand hold, and held hands turned into embraces, which turned into kisses in the dark which led to-,” you stopped, trying to read Josh’s face. He had sat perfectly still the whole time, fingers laced with yours with the occasional squeeze. 

“Felt like a fairytale, didn’t it?” He offered softly. 

You looked at the wall and sniffed, “you could say that. It was a few weeks later that I found out that he was married. It was such a cliched moment. I ran into them on the street and had to immediately pretend I didn’t know them at all. But the next night, he showed up at the park like always and “explained” the situation about how it was a marriage of convenience that their parents set up when they were kids and that they were more friends than anything.” You looked up at the ceiling, reliving the embarrassment of that moment all over again. “I should’ve called bullshit. I should’ve Persuaded him to forget me and move on. But I didn’t. Collin had this weird way of making everything feel exciting, like it was our private adventure…and I didn’t want that to end.” Your hands idly fiddled with his fingers, “one of the downsides of immortality is that the monotony of time will eat at you. So when something exciting happens that breaks up that feeling, you want it to stay. Everyone goes through it, and you will too one day. It’s just the order of things.” 

Josh couldn’t wrap his mind around that: the thought of life feeling monotonous around you. But he understood you knew more than him on the subject. 

“Did he know that you were a…”

“Vampire? Not at first, but eventually he found out.” 

Josh widened his eyes, “that sounds risky as hell.” 

You blew a lock of hair out of your face, “a big risk but the one time I did use my Persuasion on him was that he would forget about the existence of Vampire’s when not in my presence, and to never question why I could only meet at night. But I think…I think he liked having a secret of mine to keep too…” 

“Show them to me,” Collin requested while his thumbs ran along your lips. You were sitting up in bed, wrapped up together in the sheets while he cradled your face in his hands. Your hair was completely down and falling around your shoulders and frizzy from the previous activities. The floral scent of the perfume he had bought you hung in the air. That delicious mix of bergamot and jasmine clung to everything, especially on the human before you. 

You knew what he wanted to see. 

You gave him a look, your eyes sparkling from the oil lamps that lit up the room,  “say please…” 

He smiled and obliged, “show them to me, please, my pet.” 

Slowly, you opened your mouth in front of his face, and as slowly and dramatically you could, you let your fangs descend from your upper jaw. 

Collins eyes widened in wonder, having never seen any Vampire fangs before let alone yours. Carefully one of his thumbs reached over and touched one lightly, admiring the length of them and how well they suited your face. 

“Why, what a treasure you are…,” his voice was barely a whisper, and you would be lying if you said you didn’t feel like a schoolgirl with the way he was marveling at you. No one had ever looked at you like this in decades. His thumb toyed with the point of one, “are they shar-”

You backed away before he could cut himself on them. In the eight months you had been together, you hadn’t fed on him. You had thought about it…you had thought about it a lot, but you restrained yourself. Collin wasn’t food. Collin was…something else. 

“Yes, they are,” you said firmly. 

“Does it hurt? To be bitten?” 

You tilted your head at him, knowing what he was getting at,”of course it hurts…but it can feel good to some…” 

He craned his neck, offering himself to you, “show me.”

You leaned in and narrowed your eyes, “aren’t you worried I could kill you?”

His blue eyes locked on you, “but you won’t, Pet,…we both know you won’t…” 

You stared at him, knowing he was right, Leaning in, you grazed your fangs against his skin, They sank into his flesh, and he cried out in a mix of surprise and pain, but quickly he was moaning underneath you as you straddled his lap. 

Thus started the routine. He’d come over, you’d fuck, you’d bite him, you’d heal the wounds before he went home, and the cycle would start all over again a few nights later. 

“It stayed like that for the next two and a half years,” you sniffed again and rubbed your nose. 

Josh hated the sound of the whole thing. Not because it was another man, but because he was seeing red flags everywhere and he was helpless to stop whatever you were going to tell him next.

“He called you, ‘pet?’” His upper lip was twisted in disgust at how demeaning that was. 

Your eyes slowly met his, “...yeah…it was definitely not my favorite but at the time I didn’t care.”

Josh licked his lips and adjusted his hands as he held yours. 

“He made it feel fun though,” you said distantly, “I wasn’t always in that hotel. Sometimes I’d be at his summer house in the country, and his staff would be informed that I had a skin condition that rendered me unable to be in the sun at all. Most of them nodded and did their duties and the ones that didn’t I just Persuaded into doing it anyway. If I wasn’t there I’d be joining him on business trips. He’d buy me whatever I wanted, even when I said I didn’t need it, send me flowers whenever-”

“Which ones?” Josh interjected.

“What?”

“Which flowers?” 

The question caught you off guard and you blinked at him, “Jasmine usually. He said they reminded him of that first night in the park.” 

Josh nodded and made a mental note to never buy you Jasmine flowers, no matter what.

You continued, “not to be a cliche but all good things come to an end.”

The clock read 10:30, and he was late. 

 It was December, and you were patiently waiting for Collin to show up at the hotel you were currently residing. He had insisted that when he was in the city that you were to have nothing but the best living-wise, and the suite you were in was written off as a vaguely worded business expense. As long as the numbers added up at the end of the day, the labels didn’t matter according to him. 

You sat on the bench in front of the window, looking down at the street hoping to see any signs of him. Collin was never late. When he told you what time he’d be somewhere he always meant it. So where was he? You sipped on your wine while you tried not to imagine the worst. 

Before you could form any more scenarios in your head, the door burst open and suddenly your blue-eyed boy was in front of you. You jumped up in surprise and met him halfway across the room, and immediately hopped to wrap your legs around his waist. 

He showered your face with kisses, a usual greeting but he was far more enthusiastic this time. 

“Well I’m happy to see you too, Mr. Iring,” you giggled and leaned in to capture his lips. 

He pulled back just enough to look at you, “Pet, I have the most amazing news.” 

Your mind whirled with possibilities, “what is it?” 

“She’s pregnant!” 

You blinked, “who…?” 

“Eleanor, of course!”

The blood started pumping in your ears, and you slowly let your legs down to stand in front of him. His wife was pregnant. The thought of them being together physically was something you never thought about. Not because you didn’t think it wasn’t happening, but because you never wanted that image in your mind. However Collin always made it sound like they never even held hands, let alone that. 

You tried to keep your expression neutral, “when…when did this happen?” 

He was still grinning from ear to ear, clearly not reading the energy of the room, “the week of my birthday last month.” 

“Your birthday? But we were in Spain on your birth-”

“Yes, but when we came back and I had to stop by the manor for those three days? She practically pounced on me the second I walked through the door. You should’ve seen our maid’s face!”

You didn’t find it as funny as Collin did. 

Unable to keep it to yourself, your thoughts spilled out, “I thought you were never with her that way.” 

“Pet, of course it happened…it just happened so infrequently that it felt like I was never with her.” 

You shouldn’t have felt disgusted, you had no right to, but you couldn’t help it. Silently you retreated back to the bench and picked up your wine glass. 

Collin sighed and followed you over, sitting on the opposite side of the bench. 

His voice was quiet, “it will mean, however, that our arrangement will have to come to an end.” 

Your eyes snapped in his direction, “why?” 

“My responsibilities are different now, Pet. I need to be around more. The midwife thinks it's going to be a boy, and Eleanor agrees. I hope they’re right. Just thinking of another Irving to pass on the name? The business one day? The thought of becoming a father has always been on my mind. Especially the idea of an heir. A true legacy, Pet.” 

You scoffed at how draconic it sounded, “you never mention that to me.” 

Collin threw his hands up in defeat, “I’m sorry… was there ever a good time to bring it up? It's not like it would happen with you.” 

Your eyes bore into his, “what’s that supposed to mean.” 

“Oh don’t read into that, you know exactly what I mean. Even if something horrible happened and you ended up being my wife, it's not like you could-”

“Not like I could what?” Your eyes were watering now. 

“Your kind can’t…have children, can they?”

His words slapped you in the face. There it was. The real reason. 

“I’m sorry I’m so useless to you now because I can’t produce a dozen little Irvings for you. I’m glad Eleanor is there to help you live your dreams, Collin, Congratulations,” you practically spat at him. 

“No no don’t be like that,” he tried to grasp your hands but you wrenched them away from his grasp. 

“If you know so much about my kind, then why aren’t you afraid I could kill you right now?” 

He tilted his head and looked into your eyes, and mirrored the same words he had said years prior, “but you won’t, Pet…we both know you won’t.” 

You sniffed, keeping eye contact with him as you rose up on your knees and took his chin in your hand, keeping his gaze locked with yours. 

“You’re right. That would be too easy. Instead…,” you felt your power rise up from your throat, “instead the second you leave this room, you will never contact me again. Every time you consider it, the thought disappears as soon as it's formed. But you’ll remember me. You’ll remember my face, my smell, my flesh in your hands, and worst of all, you’ll miss my teeth in your neck. I will haunt you until the day you die, Collin Irving. You’ll never feel satiated again. Do I make myself clear?”

He blinked once, and slowly said, “...yes…”

“Leave. Now.” 

He wordlessly stood up and exited the room, not even looking back as he shut the door. When you couldn’t hear his footsteps down the hall anymore, your face finally crumpled and the tears fell. The other shoe dropped, and the gravity of the last three years finally hit you. 

The grip Josh had on your hands was getting tighter the further you got in your story, and his jaw was clenched so tightly you thought he’d crack a tooth. The thought of anyone talking to you like that made his blood boil. 

“Did you ever see him again?” He asked tightly. 

“Twice, actually. But they were years apart.” 

It was 1873, and you were back in London.

You weren’t even properly visiting, just passing through on your summer holiday. But there you were, standing under an awning waiting for the dusk to fully give in to the night. Across the street from you blue eyes were locked on you, in the same way they had all those years ago. But your ex-lover wasn’t alone. No, beside him was a young boy who was more focused on the toy boat in his hands than anything else. 

Before you could stop yourself you were crossing the street, standing in front of Collin for the first time in a decade. He hadn’t changed much, a few more creases around his eyes and his light hair had faded to an even lighter shade. But his stare was the same, and the charm still oozed off of him even as he stood there silent. 

“Pet,” he whispered. 

You hated the way your heart lurched at his voice. He didn’t deserve a reaction like that, but you had it anyway. 

“Collin.” 

He seemed unable to stop himself from rambling, “I think about you every day, Pet. I can’t believe you’re standing in front of me again. Are you in London long? Where are you staying? Maybe I could-”

“Papa, can we go home now?”  The child’s voice interrupted any chance of you answering any of Collin’s questions. 

You looked down at him. His toy boat was under his arm, and he was standing a little behind Collin, a little shy. His hair was auburn, if not a little darker, and his eyes were on the brown side of hazel. He didn’t have any of Collin’s features. He had Eleanor’s, that much was clear.

“And what is your name, young sir?”  Your voice was light and friendly, as he was completely innocent to the situation surrounding his father and yourself. 

“Matthew…,” he answered, looking down at his shoes.

You smiled at him and turned back to Collin. 

“How old is he?”

The question seemed to sober up Collin, and his eyes were steady as he answered, “turned ten earlier this month.” 

The understanding silence between you was deafening. 

“Decided to take him out for a bit, let his mum have a few hours to herself.”

Stiffly, you asked, “how is Eleanor?” 

“She’s doing well. A little tired these last few weeks as our youngest have been poorly-”

Your eyes flickered down at Matthew and then back up at Collin.

“Youngest?” 

Collin swallowed, as if he got caught saying something he wasn’t supposed to. 

“Yes there’s…there’s four of them all together.” 

You needed to leave, you had heard enough. 

“Four?” 

The energy between you was getting more awkward by the second. 

“Yes it's Matthew here,” he patted the boy’s shoulder, “then our Colleen, and then the twins…Edwin and Jasmine.” 

The name Jasmine stood out like a sore thumb. You hadn’t worn that particular fragrance in years, but you remembered how his favorite perfume on you smelled vividly of that particular flower. Did he really name his child after…? Your nostrils flared slightly at the notion. 

“Oh…well I hope the little ones feel better soon,” you looked down at his first born, “it was nice to meet you, Matthew.” The child gave you a shy look before hiding even more behind Collin. 

This was too much. You needed to leave for your own sanity. 

“Well, it was nice to see you again, Collin,” you turned around and started walking as quickly as you could to blend in with the humans. 

“Wait! We can walk you-”

“Goodbye, Collin,” you called over your shoulder, making a left down a side street and using your full speed to distance yourself as fast as possible. 

“Collin…named his daughter…Colleen? How original,” Josh said as he raised his eyebrows and blinked. 

“I wish I could say I was surprised, but Collin’s biggest fan was himself so…it tracked,” you shrugged and ran a hand through your hair. You were getting tired, but you had to finish what you had started. 

“The last time I saw him was less awkward, but even more depressing,” you began. 

It was 1922, and over 60 years had passed since you had last seen Collin Irving. It was a new century, a new time, and the only reason you thought of him again was because you had run across an article from across the pond that stated he had finally handed over the business to his oldest son, citing poor health. 

Was it pettiness? Curiosity? Or the fact that you were a glutton for punishment that led you to the sidewalk in front of his manor. It was nearly midnight, and only a few rooms seemed to be lit from within. As you made your way to the front door you couldn’t help but notice the Jasmine vines that were climbing the front of the house. 

Persuading yourself into the house was second nature, and as one of Collins maids led you up the stairs to his room the empty state of the house struck you as well. They could be sleeping, you thought, but it was still strange to only see staff walking about the halls. 

The door was opened for you and you were ushered inside. When the door was shut, your eyes scanned the room and spotted the four-poster bed on the far wall. There he was, propped up against the headboard with several pillows, dozing with his chin tucked to his chest. He looked so frail, his skin looked nearly gray.

You took a seat on the edge of the bed, silently watching your former flame. He started to cough, rather violently, which made him wake up and reach for a handkerchief next to him on the bed. He was so focused on coughing into the cloth he still hadn’t noticed you. The cough was a deep one, and nearly gurgled as he continued. A scent hit the air however, and the mystery illness was made clear. 

Blood.  

Humans were being plagued with a disease called “consumption” or “tuberculosis”, and attacked the lungs. By now there were small medical advancements for the disease, but for a man as old as Collin…there was little hope. 

He opened his eyes as he wiped his mouth, his eyes were cloudy now, but you could tell he could see you regardless. 

“Are you a ghost?” 

You tilted your head, “Not quite.” 

“Pet…?” Your mouth flinched at the name. 

“Collin.” 

“Why…why are you here?” His voice rattled and wheezed. 

“Word on the street is that you don’t have much time left.” 

He stared at you in a way that made you feel he was looking through you.

“Are you Death then, coming to collect me?” 

“No…not that either.”

He reached his bony hand towards yours, and you allowed him to take it. It felt like him but it also didn’t feel like him at the same time. His skin was colder, the pads of his fingers felt different due to age. Humans aged so strangely. 

“Is your family here?” 

He shook his head, “no…most of them are at the country house or at their own residences.”

Your brow furrowed slightly, “is anyone here to look after you?” 

“My staff have been at my side this entire time.”

 

You suspected his children were waiting out for their inheritances, if they were anything like their father. 

“Eleanor?” 

Collin’s eyes softened and he looked down, “Eleanor passed ten years ago.”

“Collin Irving, dying all alone,” you failed to hide the amusement in your voice. 

As if on cue, he started coughing again, this one was a lot louder than the last. 

“I could take it away, you know. Just a few drops would clear your body out in minutes,” you offered as your fingers smoothed down your dress. 

“Eh…I don’t need that, Pet. I’m ready to go. I’ve lived a full life.” 

“I’m sure you have,” you tried and failed to show that the last sentence didn’t sting. 

“I thought about you, every day since that night,” he confessed. 

Good, you thought, the confirmation that your Persuasion still held up all these years later warmed you inside. 

Playing along, you said, “you did?” 

He nodded, “oh yes. I felt like every time I’d turn a corner you’d be there as you used to be. I missed having you with me all the time. Even planted the Jasmine outside so that I could smell you whenever I’d open a window. I didn’t realize how much of a loss it was until it was too late. I always meant to reach out to you but I never got around to it. I’d want to write to you but it would slip my mind so easily.”

“I wouldn’t have read them anyway,” you shrugged. 

“Just as well,” the hand that was holding yours squeezed your hand, “your skin is as soft as ever…” 

“Is it, now?” 

“Never felt anything like you again, you know. I tried, no other woman could compare.” 

You winced at that “compliment.” 

“So much for being a family man,” you said coldly, taking your hand back and settling it in your lap. 

“Why are you really here, Pet?” 

Fine, you would be blunt, “I wanted to watch you suffer.” 

He held his hands up, “as you said, I’m dying alone, shriveled and broken. Is that what you wanted?”

No. What you had wanted was to fight for you sixty years ago, to not throw away what you had, but that didn’t happen. You sighed, knowing you had overstayed your welcome. 

Abruptly you stood, smoothing down your dress one more time, “this is my last goodbye, Collin.” 

He began to protest, “no not yet, you only just arrived. Stay with me, please.” 

You shook your head, and leaned down to whisper in his ear, “like I said, until the day you die, Collin Irving, I will haunt you.” 

Before he could respond he started coughing again, his body shaking from the movement, and you took that as an opportunity to swiftly exit the room, never to see him again. The distant sound of his labored breathing and wet coughs being the last memory you had of Collin Irving.

“He was dead a week later, according to the obituary,” you took a shaky breath, emotionally exhausted. Your Vampire was still with you, listening to every word and trying his best not to interrupt. He wanted to ask if you knew where Collin was buried, for reasons, but he kept it to himself and made another mental note to google it later. 

Josh could tell you were beat, and without hesitating he reached over to pull you into his lap, allowing you to rest your head in the crook of his neck. Your eyes fluttered shut as soon as you were surrounded by his warmth. 

“One less asshole in the world, then,” he said softly.

“Yeah…,” you agreed. 

“The sun is up now, why don’t we rest and sleep the day away?” 

You opened one eye and glanced at the clock. It was nearly 8:00 AM. 

“Sounds great, Boy Scout,” you tilted your head to give him a soft kiss on the hinge of his jaw. 

The two of you got settled under the duvet, legs tangled and facing each other. Josh brought one of your hands to his lips and kissed your knuckles before lacing his fingers with yours and settling them between you. 

“I know that was hard for you, but thank you for telling me,” he made one more mental note to not bring up Collin even if he saw more memories of him in the future. The less said about him the better. 

“Does this count as us having the ‘exes’ talk? Another milestone down,” you yawned.

Josh loved the sound of that.

“I’ll never hurt you like that, or at all, ever,” he promised. 

Your eyelids were heavy but you forced them open to look into his doe eyes and teased, “silver handcuffs aside?” 

“Hey!” his nose crinkled in defense but he joined in with your laugh. You were too far away, he felt and he pulled you even closer to him, your chests nearly flush against each other. He planted a kiss on the crown of your head, sleep quickly coming for him too. 

You hated being overly sentimental, but the fact that Josh literally gave his life to save yours floated through your head. As well as the realization that he always put you first, which you still weren’t fully used to yet, but you were getting there. And just before you fully gave into sleep, you made another realization that you never gave Collin a nickname like you did Josh. He was always just Collin. Nothing more, nothing less. In fact you couldn’t even think of something you would have called him, hypothetically. 

But you were happy about that, because there was only one Boy Scout for you. 

To be continued…

Tag List:  @dannyandthekiszkas , @readyforthegarden  , @sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine , @wideminded-dreamer , @runwayblues , @wildbluesorbit , @llightmyllovee , @rhythm-of-space , @sacredthefran , @writingcold , @alwaysonthemend , @wetkleenex-gvf , @josh-iamyour-mama , @lightsofthe-living-gvf , @gvfcinema , @sacredthethreadgvf , @losfacedevil , @jakekiszkasbuttsweat , @shutupdevvie , @hearts-hunger , @gretavanfleetposts , @ascendingtostardust , @mackalah , @andromeda-raine-gvf , @jake-kiszkas-smirk , @gracev0609 , @sacredjake , @earthlysorrows , @gvfpal , @myownparadise96 , @itsafullmoon , @gvfmelbourne , @twistedmelodies , @that-witchy-pan , @gold-mines-melting , @texas-bbq-pringles , @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface , @sadiechar , @char289 , @stardustvanfleet , @sunfl0wer-power , @holdingup-fallingsky , @bladenotblaze ,

[thetriggeredhappy]

Hello! I really liked the recent chapter you posted. I'm excited to see more :]

Do you mind elaborating on Spy's jewishness? It's a very fun headcanon and I'd like to learn what you think about it ^_^

sure! first of all 🍉🍉🍉 to be clear

sniper and spy are the only two who i’ve explicitly stated as jewish within the text, i think, and likely the only two for whom it’s going to come up super frequently, but i also do think that tony’s wife theresa is jewish, as is collin’s wife lily, and i don’t think any singular one of them is the classic Monolith To Represent An Entire Culture Singularly.

i imagine spy was somewhat heavier on tradition for himself, more orthodox, follows kosher, that sort of thing, and that if his family were still physically present enough to be part of his life they would be absolutely flabbergasted that he married an irish catholic woman and even more flabbergasted at how chill she is about it. i imagine spy is a pretty private guy but went out of his way to stay in contact with the judeo-french community in boston. this would’ve been around, like, ~1940 or so? the O’Connell family i always believed to be closer to South End, which was historically a cultural hub in the city. him being part of espionage efforts as a teen throughout the 20s means that he had a pretty unusual immigrant experience for that reason, but i thought it was more interesting to sort of keep spy more grounded in reality compared to the team fortressing of the rest of the peripheral landscape. some of the older boys who remember when spy was around remember how hard spy and ma worked to celebrate the holidays for both catholic traditions and french jewish traditions, and archie for example has tried to pass that on to his own kids as well.

sniper meanwhile i have grounded as kind of the ‘my family is jewish but um y’know not in the way that people hate’ brand ‘palatable immigrant or different culture trying not to take up space in a place that is not necessarily friendly to outsiders’ story. his mum and dad were the only jewish people in their relatively small community by the time sniper was a young boy and they really did try to keep up traditions, but it’s hard when you have no outside support to help reinforce that stuff. sniper has a (relatable) internal sense of being both an outsider to the predominant culture while also not feeling confident enough in it being ‘his culture’ to make any claims for himself. i imagine that if he could meet some of spy’s old buddies in boston and connect a little more with the diaspora he would be able to start feeling more of that pride and connection, but as it is he’s caught between dodging antisemitism and denying a culture that does matter to him but in a way that’s difficult to verbalize and not often asked about.

i think spy and sniper might bicker about it at times in later chapters, next chapter in particular. scout’s ma is definitely going to make at least one more comment about scout getting married to a nice jewish boy though. that trope in media about east coasters is just too much of a staple to pass up.

[metanarrates]

you got that genre and gender essay for us 👀

i might talk about gender in the hunger games a different time but right now im ready to talk about genre in it (FINALLY. sorry gamers ive been in the sludge for a while)

so one of the things that really struck me about the hunger games while reading is that it did not function strictly as an action genre story during the games themselves. the genre it actually seemed to be dipping into a lot of the time is wilderness survival. this is weird, for a couple of reasons.

for anyone unfamiliar with the wilderness survival genre, the underlying conflict tends to be rather slow-movingly paced. this isn't always the case - some wilderness survival stories do have limitations that force the plot to speed up - but in the vast majority of works I've seen, the main force the main character is working against is the slow-moving course of nature. there is a lot of time spent hunting, crafting, building shelters, tending to injuries. occasionally there are bursts of action, but the story is much more concerned with the daily work of solving more longterm survival problems than it is with more temporary threats. it's typically a story about endurance rather than urgency.

now, I like the genre just fine. I would even say suzanne collins does it decently well. the problem is that it doesn't actually suit the premise of the hunger games.

the hunger games is, on premise, a death game. for at least the first two books, the main setpiece of the story is the promise of the arena. it is a televised match where children have to kill each other for the entertainment of a crowd. this isn't a crazy uncommon subgenre or even main genre for action stories - there's a lot of story potential in forcing combatants to battle to the death against their will. my favorite novel, omniscient reader's viewpoint, has death game elements. when done well, it is tense, exciting, and asks questions about the culpability of both viewer and participants. oftentimes, the story's major theme is forcing the audience think about the way they may treat violence as spectacle. this is certainly something the hunger games also wants to do.

this premise carries a lot of intrinsic tensions. in a story where people are hunting one another in order to survive, the protagonist almost always is under threat, or nearly under threat, of being attacked. the tension of potentially having to kill adds another layer of tension. the demands of audience, in a story about violence as spectacle, serves to add another layer. the protagonist always has to look over their shoulder, to make sure that their audience can't hurt them if they become dissatisfied with the protagonist, and to be sure that they can fend off attackers at any given moment. to do otherwise, at least without justifying it, would be to undermine the logical stakes the premise introduces.

the end result, when done well, is a fast-paced action story with consistently heightened tension. you'll notice that this doesn't blend well with a slow-paced genre with a consistently low but omnipresent baseline tension.

through both games, again to collins' credit, there are a lot of high-tension action sequences. katniss does spend a good deal of time fighting, running, tensely hiding out, and dealing with high-octane environmental factors. however, I was consistently a little disappointed by how quickly a lot of these sequences ended. more importantly, I was confused by how often it would lead back into katniss skirting around the woods. she spends a ton of time fishing, hunting, chatting with allied tributes, scouting, and waiting around in a cave for peetas injuries to heal. the threat of the other tributes finding and killing her slips into the background. the audience in the capitol only matters occasionally. the minuitiae of surviving in a wilderness takes up major screentime. the threats intrinsic to the actiony premise stop being an immediate concern.

this inability to follow through on the established stakes totally kills my suspension of disbelief in the gamemakers as threats. very few people would be actually interested in continuously watching days-long, unedited livestreams of teenagers hunting and fishing and occasionally kissing. it doesn't make sense as a story about entertainment, because the events on screen would simply not be logically all that entertaining. the only reason the gamemakers don't act to force katniss towards more action is that collins plainly does not seem as interested in writing action. and that's really the root of the first two books' weird genre problem.

since collins seems to want to focus on wilderness survival rather than action, neither genre can properly shine. as a reader, i'm always feeling antsy whenever katniss takes a break to nap for a day, and I'm always frustrated whenever an an action scene is cut short instead of staying excitingly tense. the action stakes never feel believable to me because it seems like they only exist when the plot remembers they should. the survival stakes just feel like a tiresome chore in a story that should have much more urgent concerns. it's just a really weird choice. why write a death game story if you're often disinterested in the stuff the premise demands?

I also don't think that the rebellion/war story is done well in book 3, for similar pacing and tension issues (that book DRAGS in ways that actively undermine what it seems to be trying to do.) but this little essay has run on long enough. this has been a really longwinded way of saying "these books struggle a lot with tension and pacing and it makes them feel weird in how they play to their supposed premises," but I did want to approach it from a genre angle because that's what I was thinking about while reading. what is genre, after all, but a shorthand to communicate expected aspects of setting, focus, mechanical structure of a story?

[plumloup]

ethan joined the scouts, so collin took him to go fishing in order to make some progress towards his scouting badges!

[silver-screen-divas]

Gardner was visiting her sister Beatrice in New York City in the summer of 1940 when Beatrice's husband Larry Tarr, a professional photographer, offered to take her portrait as a gift for her mother Molly. He was so pleased with the results that he displayed the finished product in the front window of his Tarr Photography Studio on Fifth Avenue.

Barnard Duhan, a legal clerk at Loews Theatres, spotted Gardner's portrait in Tarr's studio. At the time, Duhan often posed as a Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer (MGM) talent scout to meet girls, using the fact that MGM was a subsidiary of Loews. Duhan entered Tarr's studio and tried to get Gardner's number, but he was rebuffed by the receptionist. Duhan made the comment "Somebody should send her info to MGM", and the Tarrs did so immediately. Shortly after, Gardner, who at the time was a student at Atlantic Christian College, traveled to New York to be interviewed at MGM's New York office by Al Altman, head of MGM's New York talent department. With cameras rolling, he directed the 18-year-old to walk toward the camera, turn and walk away, then rearrange some flowers in a vase. He did not attempt to record her voice because her strong Southern accent made understanding her difficult for him. Louis B. Mayer, head of MGM, however, sent a telegram to Altman: "She can't sing. She can't act. She can't talk. She's terrific!" She was offered a standard contract by the studio and left school for Hollywood in 1941, with her sister Beatrice accompanying her. MGM's first order of business was to provide her with a speech coach because her Carolina drawl was nearly incomprehensible to them, and Harriet Lee as her singing teacher.

Her first appearance in a feature film was as a walk-on in the Norma Shearer vehicle We Were Dancing (1942). Fifteen bit parts later, she received her first screen billing in Ghosts on the Loose (1943), and she is featured by name on the theatrical poster.[citation needed] After five years of bit parts, mostly at MGM and many of them uncredited, Gardner came to prominence in the Mark Hellinger production The Killers (1946), playing the femme fatale Kitty Collins.

[catmomscrocheting]

Official RP rules and fandom list

Hi Everyone! I'm Faith She/Her. I took a long break from roleplaying for my own mental health, and I'm finally in a place to get back into it. If there is anyone who I used to roleplay with that'd like to reach out and maybe start anything knew take a look at the list below and send me a message!

Rules

Please be 18+ as I do allow smut

I am quite busy with work so it may take me some time to reply so please be patient!

I only do Canon x Canon unless I'm very close with someone. In such situations this may change.

Not a rule but I enjoy sharing headcanons, fanart, memes, TikTok, theories, hell even playlists so if any of that sounds good take a look and see if we have any fandoms in common!

I'm in the process of revamping my account and decided I'd make and official list of all my fandoms and ships I prefer.

⭐- Currently in

✨- Might not be in but able to RP nonetheless.

🌙-Not in

Arcane ⭐

Timebomb (I'd prefer to play Jinx)

CaitVi (I'd prefer to play Cait.)

Jayvik (Prefer Viktor)

Zaundads (Can play either)

I can also do some not-so-popular ships as well.

Half Life ⭐

Freehoun (Can play either but prefer Gordon)

HLVRAI ✨

Frenrey (I'd prefer to play Gordon)

Tommy × Darnold (Can play Either)

Tommy x Forzen ( Can play either)

Forzen x Darnold (Can play either)

Forzen x Adrian (Id prefer to play Adrian)

Portal✨

Chell x Wheatley (Prefer Chell)

Cave x Caroline (Prefer Caroline)

Rattman x Chell (Prefer Chell)

Rattman x Wheatley (Prefer Wheatley)

Left 4 Dead 1&2 ✨

Zoey x Ellis (Prefer Zoey)

Zoey x Louis (Prefer Zoey)

Rochelle x Nick (Can play either)

Rochelle x Francis (Can play either)

Nick x Ellis (Prefer Nick)

Stanley Parable 🌙

Stanley x Narrator (Prefer Stanley)

Tf2 🌙

Multishipper but the characters below are who I prefer to play

Pauling

Sniper

Bidwell

Engineer

Spy

Scouts Mom

Soldier

Jazzpunk ✨

Polyblank x The Editor (Prefer The Editor)

Eddsworld ✨

TomTord (I prefer playing Tom, and I prefer a future setting)

Pau x Pat (Prefer to play Pau)

Colalosers ( Prefer to play Edd)

MattMark (Prefer Mark)

MattJon (Prefer Matt)

Larry x Bing (Prefer Larry)

Matildna ||Matilda x Edna my hc fem name for Eduardo|| (Prefer Matilda)

I can also do Female versions of any of these

Detroit Become Human ✨

Reed900 (Can play either)

Chloe x Connor (Prefer Chloe)

Kara x Connor (Prefer Kara)

Kara x Luther (Prefer Kara)

Simon x Marcus (Prefer Simon)

Stardew Valley ✨

Shane x Harvey (Can play either)

Overwatch 🌙

Ask about ships

Undertale 🌙

Sans x Toriel (Prefer Toriel)

Papyrus x Mettaton (Prefer Papyrus)

Asgore x Gastor (Prefer Asgore)

FNAF 🌙

Multishipper

Pacific Rim ⭐

Raleigh x Mako (Prefer Mako)

Newt x Hermann (Prefer Hermann)

Hellboy (Perlman or comics) ⭐

I am a multishipper (No twincest-) but here's my preferred characters I like to play

Liz Sherman

John Myers

Nuala

Krauss

Kate

Agent Clay

Sydney Leech

Marble Hornets 🌙

Multishipper, but I mainly prefer to play Tim

The Bad Guys 🌙

Diane x Mo (Prefer Diane)

TWDG 🌙

Luke x Nick (Prefer Luke)

Lee x Kenny (Prefer Lee)

Clementine x Louis (Prefer Clem)

Minecraft story mode 🌙

Male Jesse x Lucas (Prefer Jesse)

Mlp 🌙

Multishipper

Don't hug me I'm scared (Prefer human ver.)🌙

Red Guy x Duck (Prefer Duck)

Colin x Shrignold ( Prefer Collin.)

Wordgirl (Must be a future setting)✨

Tobecky (Prefer Becky)

South Park Post Covid (Will do other settings but characters must be 18+)🌙

Style (Prefer Stan)

Craig x Tweek (Prefer Craig)

Butters x Kenny (Prefer Butters)

Bebe x Wendy (Can play either)

Scott x Clyde (Prefer Clyde)

The Dark Crystal 🌙

Jen x Kira (Prefer Kira)

Brea x Kylan (Prefer Brea)

Deet x Rian (Prefer Deet)

Seladon x Gurjin (Prefer Seladon)

SCP 🌙

Oc x oc only

Venom (Tom Hardy ver)✨

Venom x Eddie (Prefer Eddie)