#haven’t read up to the point yet but idk i think it’s an interesting position to take. especially after having read SoM and being kinda

[muffinsin]

Ok, please dont pressure yourself too much! Please delete my requests if there, well, shit.

Anyway, readers been dating one of the sisters for a while n for some reason or another rs mother visits. But rs mother isnt exactly the greatest mother to r and to summarise abuses them, emotionally or physically up to you tbh. Holding them up to ridiculous standards and tells them she wished she had aborted them, generally just being a bit of a dick- making fun of how the reader looks and thinking they have ownership of the reader and her body bc shes their mother. Lady Dimitrescu is not tolerating this in her castle and as much as she wants to ignore it she cares for reader bc her daughter loves them (idk if that makes sense) so she comforts reader like a mother should, praising reader when their mother has just shouted at them or something.

Queue to the sister finding Lady Dimitrescu reading to reader whilst there curled up on her lap with a blanket. (Motherly)

Idk if any of this makes sense, feel free to completely change parts of this.

With fruitiness,

Deluded anon

A rare Alcina post here! Because the prompt was just too adorable and I love this tall murderous woman as a mother figure🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️ this one’s quite Alcina centered for once :)

Keeping this Bela/Cassandra/Daniela neutral for once! :)

Masterlists

You know, today is the day your mother is coming over. You know, it was bound to happen, too

The moment she picked up on you living in a grand castle, she suddenly acted interested and invited herself

A declination of her “request” is not possible. Aside from this, your lover is most keen on meeting her

You haven’t yet had the courage to tell her about your mother, nor about the woman she truly is

How can you, when your lover’s mother is just perfect?

Alcina is kind, and caring. She’s strict, but out of love. She shows affection, and she practically showers all three of her daughters in praise. She never fails to comfort them or point out that she is proud of them no matter what

Neither of the Dimitrescu family members notice your yearning look when you watch your girlfriend hug her mother and receive a kiss on the cheek or forehead in return

It’s breakfast time- your favorite time. In general, mealtimes are your favorite. It’s the times of days when all sisters and their mother are together

Alcina never misses it. She always pauses her work, even on busy days, to spend this time with her daughters and you. It feels almost like a privilege to sit among them, sometimes

However, now all you feel is dread, and yet: still hope

Perhaps your mother will be influenced by Alcina, positively

Still, you feel dread knowing she will be here shortly

A few hours later, you stand in the main hall and fiddle with your girlfriend’s dress as you wait for your mother. You know, she won’t be much longer

You almost flinch when the heavy doors open, yet can’t help the involuntary smile when you see the woman that has birthed you step inside

Your smile falters when she immediately begins to complain about the cold and the frustrating path it took to get here. Your girlfriend chuckles nervously, as though unsure what to say, and you can only join in

Then, your expression turns to a hurt one when she begins to criticize things and you already

Starting with the state of your clothes- a little rough looking from your roughhousing with Daniela earlier today

You blush in embarrassment and shame as you’re scolded, your hand squeezing your girlfriend’s tightly

Next, your posture is criticized. You stand straight again, tears welling in your eyes at your mother’s words

Unworthy. Filthy. Ragged. A waste

You’re quick to greet her and ask her how she is doing when she scolds you for this, too

But it seems even that can’t be done right, for she simply starts scolding you for not checking in more often

After all, how is it she only learns months later that you are dating one of the “monsters” of the castle?

Her displeasure makes it quite clear, even if it has been already: she intended for you to work there and earn her money until your demise

You flinch when she steps closer to you, as though to examine you

You spare your girlfriend a pitiful look as she attempts to interrupt, yet is cut off by your mother’s tsks again

She comments on your clothing. One of your favorite outfits, made to ruin by her. The colours, the fabric, the style is all criticized

Then, your body

You flinch when a finger sharply pokes your stomach

“And I thought they would feed you less, here”

The comment stings, and has both, you and your girlfriend, tense up. Her, in anger. You seem to only shrink into yourself

You know, she’s looking for a way to keep back your mother without causing offense. She is still your mother, after all

You hold back your tears when you’re criticized again, your hair, your face, your arms and hands

“I love them and how they look”, your girlfriend protests when your look as a whole is criticized

This makes you jump in surprise, and whimper when it causes your mother to finally turn to your partner

She examines her, as if determining her worth

She scowls at the tattoo on her forehead, yet her features soften at beautiful hair, a regal-looking face, a smooth neck sporting a necklace with a very obviously expensive gemstone

Smooth skin and a seductive figure, a beautiful, if gothic, dress clinging to her and hugging her body and curves perfectly

Your mother laughs for a moment

And it stings when she points out: you’re not at all worth your girlfriend’s time

Of course, your lover immediately corrects this. She assures: you’re her everything

And yet it is only met with a scowl

Your eyes snap back to your mother when she calls your name, her own eyes icy cold

Upon being asked how much money you make, you fall silent

Living at the castle and being in this relationship, you don’t make any. You work, yet not for money, but to support the staff and ultimately Alcina. You don’t get paid, simply work to keep busy and support

After all, why would you be in need of money? Your girlfriend’s money is yours, now. And hers is Alcina’s. Being paid for your work would only come from your own pocket, ultimately

You don’t dare tell your mother about this. You refuse to risk her taking any of the money that belongs to the Dimitrescu family. A warm flutter spreads in your chest momentarily as you realize: it includes you now

Yet, this doesn’t satisfy at all, and you flinch as she throws up her hands and yells

After all, she sent you to this place to earn money for her! And here you are, empty handed and happy? She’s fuming

She screams, calls you a mistake, a waste

When your lover steps in front of you, arms crossed and yelling back at last no matter the consequence, you take it as an opportunity to slip out the room

You run, tears blurring your vision as you sob so violently, your body trembles

You aren’t even sure where you’re running off to, or for how long you have been running

You’re ashamed as the staff sees you sob and run last them. You just want to get out of sight

You’re running fast, and before you know it, push through several doors until you burst into a room

Only when Alcina gasps in surprise at the intrusion do you notice you’ve stumbled, seemingly automatically, into her office

Her eyes are wide, and for a moment she looks ready to strike

Then, her eyes soften. She knows the little human that has stumbled into her study. You are no mere staff member- you are the that has wooed her daughter

She frowns in concern at your state. Your heart beats so fast, unnaturally so. You’re distressed

Your expression is pained, and tears stick to your cheeks and jawline

She can’t help but care for you. You are important to her precious daughter- as such you have grown into the countess quite a lot

You sob quietly as she gets off her chair and moves towards you. A door is closed, and a large hand sets on your backside

It’s guiding you, you realize, towards the large chair in the corner

To your surprise though, she sits down before you can. To your even grander surprise, you’re lifted on her lap

Ignoring the blush of embarrassment on your cheeks, you can’t help but reach out to feel the fabric of her dress

For a moment, Alcina watches you as you fiddle with it. It seems to help you, even as you still cry a little

You feel her large hand on your back, the other set over your knee, covering it whole. Her thighs are large and steady, but comfortable, and there is a warmth naturally radiating from her body that the sisters seem to lack

You feel grounded, with her here. It makes you feel better, even as you sit in silence

You find three loose strands on the dress, and she watches curiously as your fingers immediately move to it

Her hand hovers, ready to stop should you pull like her two youngest daughters like to do

You aren’t, though. Alcina watches in confusion as you begin braiding the little strings between your small fingers

You work gently, and meticulously

When you finish, you trace the tiny braid

“What meticulous grace you possess, little one”, she praises, her eyebrow raised curiously as she traces the tiny thing with her index fingertip

You can’t help but feel a light, happy feeling in your chest at her words, and feel it settle there among the darkness caused by your mother’s words

Your tears have dried, and yet new ones roll down your cheeks at the mere memory of her words just before

You aren’t quite sure you’re ready to share her words yet, but thankfully, there is no need

You feel her move about, until you find yourself pulled close to her, with your head comfortably resting against her chest. It’s rare you feel this at ease, even as sobs wretch your body. You feel warm when her arm slings around you, as though protecting you from the evil of this world

You see now, how the sisters are so devoted to their mother. You couldn’t quite understand from your own experience, but it’s clear: Alcina is different from your mother in every way

You sob quietly as you turn, your body tucked into hers. Due to her height, you fit perfectly against her stomach and chest

You cringe a little as you notice your tears wet her expensive dress, yet as you attempt to pull away, a hand comes up to the back of your head

Not strong, or forceful. Not even threatening. Reassuring, rather. She wants to keep you there

“Don’t mind them, little one. Tell me what happened”, she demands gently

You feel yourself relaxing against her, your hand coming up to hold onto her dress

When you open your mouth, it takes a few second for words to spill out. Then, you can’t stop yourself

You cry as you talk, slurring and stuttering, whimpering and trembling. But her piercing, golden eyes are warm and stay on you, and her arms do not untangle from around you. She does not interrupt you either, and yet it feels like she understands every little of your broken words

Her brows furrow in anger quickly at the words spilling from your lips

How dare someone treat you this way? Alcina thinks a lot of you. Obviously, or else she would not allow her daughter to be with you. She would not have a fool for her precious darlings, after all

Lucky for you, Alcina approves of you. And as such, she is enraged by your mother’s words

“Unworthy?!”, she gasps, utterly shocked upon hearing your mother said such a thing

“I am yet to deem people unworthy”, she protests. A silent, but honest phrase. You catch the meaning: you are worthy, according to all whose opinion matters

You feel yourself calming down a little again as she talks, praise after praise of your qualities falling from her lips

You’re quite surprised she has paid you much mind, really, but feel content in her arms

Eventually, as she talks, you feel yourself calming down

Your head is tilted upwards against her chest, and you feel your eyes slipping shut as she traces your features with her fingertip

Alcina watches curiously as she does this, first tracing your brow and nose, then your cheek

She remembers doing this the first time, with her eldest daughter back when she was a child and experienced distress the first time. Seeing as it calmed her down greatly, it’s now her go-to

And it seems to calm you, too

You don’t notice you’re hugging her and pushed up against her until she shifts her arms and you find yourself curled up in her spacious lap

Through heavy eyes you see her pick up a book, and with a tired smile on your lips, you cuddle closer as she begins to read

You don’t recall the last time you felt this relaxed with anyone that wasn’t your lover

As her words turn muffled the more sleep takes over you, your eyes feel heavier and heavier

Your mother’s words no longer linger on your mind, instead all you focus on is the comfort and love you feel in the moment, the happiness and acceptance

You don’t notice when your eyes slip shut, but with a smile, you fall asleep at last

An hour later or so, Alcina jumps when her door is slammed open again

This time, her daughter is the one entering the room, her fist clenched and a scowl on her face

“Mother, I’m going to kill someone!”

She laughs fondly at the remark, the book clasping close as she rests it on the small, unoccupied space left on her lap

Just as her daughter attempts to sit down there too, she shrieks in surprise and swarms backwards upon finding the space occupied by- you

Alcina smiles at the adorable expression on her face

She pulls you a little closer, then extends her arm and gently pulls her confused daughter closer

“Come here, my little fly”, she coos, sensing the woman’s anger at your mother. As expected, she purrs and eagerly leans into the countess’s touch

Alcina smiles lovingly as she, at last, too climbs into her lap, settling comfortably and purring contentedly

Even in your sleep, you feel your lover pull you closer, and even as you sleep; a small smile shows on your lips

#alcina dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #deluded anon #Mommy issues #-maybe!

[rowlev]

Do you have any Daredevil fic/ reading recs? 👀

I’m gonna be honest I don’t read that much fanfiction. However there is one fic that I swear is what I will imagine mcu canon as post-snap no matter what the new born again series gives us. I spent several hours trying to find it again so you better read it lol.

Premise is post-NWH Spider-Man trying to tough out life and Matt trying to establish a presence in Hell’s Kitchen again after being snapped. Lots of found family tropes, and really hits the spot for my interpretation of Matt ngl. I haven’t checked in on it in a year and now ao3 is requiring an account to read it so idk how it is now, but highly recommend.

As for reading recs on comics, I think my favorite runs are bendis/brubaker, waid, and zdarsky if I had to pick some, but honestly they’re all good. Like objectively speaking daredevil has some of the most consistent quality writing compared to other comics.

Especially in bendis there is some really fantastic art by David Mack and storytelling, best used to describe the origin story of echo, who currently is getting a show produced about her in the mcu. Apparently the trailer just dropped so I’m pretty hype about that. Overall I think bendis is the bread and butter of daredevil. It accumulates the early history of daredevil into what forms his core character.

Zdarsky is really good if you’re a fan of the Netflix show. It leans more heavily into the religious side of daredevil if you’re into that, and honestly the characterizations feel like they could be ripped out of the tv show. I especially enjoy the first half (pre devil’s reign), but the second half is also pretty good.

Waid I think is my all time favorite run, mostly because it builds onto everything else that makes daredevil’s character and creates a sort of meta analysis of it. Plus it feels the most emotional - at this point he’s trying to go public with his secret identity and it’s a genuinely painful process for him to allow himself to be vulnerable. Yet it’s also a time where you get to be happy for him that he’s finally reaching happiness. I genuinely start tearing up whenever I reach the end of this run. I appreciate the soule run very much (blindspot is awesome!) but I can’t ever forgive him for robbing Matt of the ending of waid.

New run of daredevil is also currently in the works with Saladin Ahmed if you want to start out with a totally fresh story for daredevil. There’s only like 2 issues out so I can’t impose any judgment on it yet but it’s certainly an interesting new position they’re putting daredevil in.

Hope this helps!

#matt murdock #daredevil #comics #rowlerants

[tmmyhug]

bestie (nicest way possible) as someone who was new to the fandom last September I wouldn’t recommend making a sideblog and like talking about comics/batfam/etc if you haven’t read the comics? people get really touchy about that, because fanfic interpretation tend to be really far from how characters are in canon (and character relationships get butchered and softened and straight up invented for plot, which once again, creative liberty + that can be fun but often tends to be incredibly ooc & excludes women (cass, helena, steph, etc) or poc (duke (though his case is different considering when he was introduced), cass, damian’s poc but isn’t really ignored) in favor of white boys (jason especially, who shows up far later than said women & isn’t really close to the fam yet fandom tends to give him their relationships with the family) so like...you’ll probably be mostly wrong and people are rather unforgiving about that because they’re tired of people that haven’t read comics talking about the characters (incorrectly) while refusing to interact w/ source material, and it’s a huge problem & very prevalent so I can’t really blame them? idk I just don’t think it’s a good idea unless you want to reblog just art and stuff, which is fine! but like...everything's really confusing w/out proper research if you want to get into the fandom (everything post-reboot/post-2011 is largely ignored unless said otherwise because the reboot was so awful), so i just want to point that out! but I don’t want to be mean, just some advice :) (if you ever change your mind about comics, just give the say so! we’re (and i) am very glad to help you out with what to read and in what order, and take it from someone who was in your position six months ago, they are truly really fun!) /gen /nm

not to worry my friend this sounds pretty much exactly like the dsmp experience where new people never properly interacted with the canon content and the fanon got more and more bastardized over time as a result and everyone got touchy abt it. including me . you could say im familiar . im just on the other side now (oblivious newbie) which should be interesting. i have no intention of treading on anyone’s toes or making assumptions or even talking abt the characters with any sort of authority. if i do make a sideblog it’ll be just to reblog art n stuff.

plus i am ah. very aware that the fanon im consuming is an extremely warped perspective of the actual comics. and with how many different “canons” there are i’m sure it’s a mess. at least in dsmp we could always point back to just the og streams. here i’m gathering there’s 174958637 comics + 284871 writers + movies + live action AND animated tv shows + multiple video games and they ALL have intersecting characters and possible canons it’s giving me a headache just thinking abt it dear lord

so yeah. i’m perfectly happy sequestering myself in an oblivious fanon corner and not claiming to know anything. normally for a new fandom i would seek out the full source material and examine it thoroughly but theres just. too much. and i also just don’t enjoy reading comics. at least not the superhero ones. (i think the art doesn’t appeal to me? and something about the combination of written word and still visual art like. rankles at my sense of pacing and story <- just guessing though) i did watch the under the red hood movie tjough and it was cool so i may do more of those!

i’m glad you said you like talking abt this cause i just wrote you a whole essay lol. if i may ask do you know of any good fanon/fanfic content i could check out that stays mostly true to the comics canon? i’m curious ! but regardless thank you for the very nice message and warning it’s appreciated mwah

#ask #anonymous #batstuff

[amethystroselily]

Hello there

I'd like to ask your thoughts on sskk as a ship?

I don’t really ship it. I thought I did for a while, but it turned out I just really enjoyed their rivalry.

Like, I don’t dislike it or anything. It’s good in theory I guess, but the “we genuinely want to murder eachother” to frenemies is just so much more endearing to me.

It could work, but it needs so much development and build up for it to make sense romantically to me. So sskk fanfic just feels kind of off because of that sometimes. But it could work really well if given the proper development.

My other problem with sskk fan works is that people act like those two like eachother way more than they actually do. Like, somehow that’s one of the ships the fandom decided was pure and wholesome yet angsty???? When their genuine hatred of eachother and them slowly overcoming it is the appeal. Like people finally acknowledged Soukoku had their issues and somehow that lead to believing Akutagawa and Atsushi were the healthier more loving alternative????

Also I feel like an underrated part of their dynamic is that it isn’t done developing yet. They’re becoming partners. They are learning to trust eachother. But they aren’t quite there yet. Especially Atsushi. Akutagawa might trust Atsushi at this point (or maybe he’s really just that desperate for Dazai’s approval). But Atsushi doesn’t trust him yet. That’s the whole point. That’s why their fight with Fukuchi ended the way it did. And maybe the fight with Fukuchi was the final push? But we haven’t really seen that come to fruition yet.

Also. Just, none of their interactions read as romantic whatsoever to me. Like, there’s no real romantic chemistry, there’s no sexual tension. None of their interactions could ever realistically be misconstrued as flirting. Neither of them are the type for their malice to ever come off as anything other than malice. The only scene I could ever see as romantic between them whatsoever is Akutagawa’s last words. You know how there’s scenes where characters weren’t supposed to be flirting with eachother but they definitely were? Yeah, that’s NOT shin soukoku. They just have a very interesting dynamic. It’s great. The development is phenomenal. Doesn’t read as romantic.

But there’s so much potential there. It could be really romantic if written right in fanfic. But it’s really hard to trick myself into interpreting any of their canon interactions as romantic. But I suppose they could work as something that could eventually lead to romance.

I think Akutagawa warmed up to Atsushi when they fought Fitzgerald, and was just being difficult after that, but I think Atsushi genuinely fucking hated him all the way up until they fought Fukuchi. So I guess I could maybe see it as one-sided. Akutagawa can have a crush on Atsushi, as a treat, but I refuse to see it the other way around. (As of now. Idk, maybe I’ll change my mind in the future)

I do want Atsushi to hug Akutagawa if they ever properly reunite (like he did with Kyouka and Kunikida when he thought they were dead but they weren’t), and Akutagawa to be completely taken aback because he’s not used to positive physical contact, and then Atsushi realizes what he’s doing and immediately stops and is like “actually… what the hell am I doing right now” and Akutagawa’s just frozen in place like “Don’t EVER do that again” and it haunts them both. But, like, it secretly made Akutagawa feel a little warm on the inside, and he almost cried when it happened. But he’d also rather die than it happen again.

#i like it one-sided but only sometimes I guess #I don’t ship it but I don’t Not ship it either #I have like an on again off again relationship with that ship #this post is all over the place #i need to reread the manga again… #bsd akutagawa ryunosuke #bsd nakajima atsushi #bsd #bungou stray dogs

[applestorms]

alright,

i am well in need of a proper homestuck reread by this point, it's certainly been long enough since i went through the comic as a whole instead of just skipping around to different acts and conversations. to anyone following me rn who would like to avoid possible post spam about this, i'll be tagging everything with "#astronaut reread" so feel free to filter that. dunno if it'll be that spam-y though tbh, i'm trying to be more careful and take my time going through each page and image to really Pay Attention this time round to make sense of all of the theories/analysis i've been reading lately, but that may also make my liveblogging posts longer so. idk we'll see how this goes

initial thoughts: i've always been drawn to the emptiness of early homestuck, the whole aspect of the kids shitting around in their rooms doing basically nothing of real importance (ignoring hs's love of callbacks) feels very true to the experience of being a teenager in the last few decades. it's quite slow story-wise, of course, but it genuinely does set up a lot of the story later on (john's posters all foreshadowing/inspiring later plot points, etc.) and the vibe is just. man idk, i've seen people criticize act 6 for being slow in that nothing really happens since all the characters are just Waiting, but reading through the very beginning again that almost feels more true to the core of homestuck, or at least where it started. and i like it, sometimes it's nice to just slow down, even though i get the frustration w/ that later in the story after the plot has so much more baggage. but more reflection on that later.

john is an interesting character on a meta level in how he represents the most basic entity in homestuck: the first kid, upon which all other kids evolve off of, but what's more interesting about that fact to me is how his original Home plays into that character. maybe i'm biased by nostalgia, but (A1:82) is such an interesting page, it's like the first point where the comic hints at taking itself more seriously by marking just how empty the space surrounding john is, houses all copies of one another and far apart along the streets. not to mention the wind running through the windchime, perhaps another instance of foreshadowing/inspiration? hussie mentions the idea of vriska being tied to the image of the sun that page ends on in the commentary notes, troll gods not yet conceived of but looking down and watching all the same. honestly all i can think of is a section from the start of ch2 of the zhuangzi:

Master Dapple said, “My, isn’t that a good question you’ve asked, Ziyou! Just now I lost myself. Do you know? You’ve heard the pipes of people, but not the pipes of earth. Or if you’ve heard the pipes of earth, you haven’t heard the pipes of Heaven.”

“May I ask what you mean?”

“The Big Lump belches breath and it’s called wind. If only it wouldn’t start! When it starts, the ten thousand holes begin to hiss. Don’t you hear the shsh-shsh? In the mountain vales there are great trees a hundred spans around with knots like noses, like mouths, like ears, like sockets, like rings, like mortars, like ditches, like gullies. Gurgling, humming, hooting, whistling, shouting, shrieking, moaning, gnashing! The leaders sing ‘Eeeeeeh!’ The followers sing ‘Ooooooh!’ In a light breeze it’s a little chorus, but in a gusty wind it’s a huge orchestra. And when the violent winds are over, the ten thousand holes are empty. Haven’t you witnessed the brouhaha?”

Ziyou said, “So the pipes of earth are those holes, and the pipes of people are bamboo flutes. May I ask about the pipes of Heaven?”

Master Dapple said, “Blowing the ten thousand differences, making each be itself and all choose themselves—who provokes it? Does Heaven turn? Does earth stay still? Do the sun and moon vie for position? Who is in charge here? Who pulls the strings? Who sits with nothing to do, gives it a push and sets it in motion? Do you think it’s locked in motion and can’t be stopped? Or do you think it’s spinning out of control and can’t slow itself down? Do the clouds make the rain? Or does the rain make the clouds? Who rumbles all this out? Who sits there with nothing to do and takes perverse delight in egging it on? The wind rises in the north—now west, now east, now dilly-dallying up above. Who huffs and puffs it? Who sits with nothing to do and blows it? May I ask the cause?”

(translation by norden & ivanhoe)

perhaps that's fitting with all the talk of transformation & flexibility/adaptation in that chapter.

you really can't get away from the names "homestuck" and "s(u)burb" with this beginning to the comic. john, as the quintessential homestuck kid, trapped in his house in the empty suburbs, stuck not because of any physical boundaries/walls, but perhaps because of a lack of them. massive roads and sprawling suburbs that make it impossible to get anywhere on foot is a pretty classic image of modern america, so john's desire for breath, for movement, makes sense in that regard. homestuck has always been most appealing to me in how it doesn't shy away from reality, as messy as that engagement often is, and this beginning feels like it gets at some of that emotional core that homestuck started with. it's immediately followed by a joke about pissing/shitting in the mailbox too. classic.

#astronaut reread

[poibynt]

11, 26 and 39! 🖤

This one’s a little long so I’m putting a break in for everyone’s convenience

11. Do you believe in the old advice to “kill your darlings?” Are you a ruthless darling assassin? What happens to the darlings you murder? Do you have a darling graveyard? Do you grieve?

This is several questions so I’ll just answer all of it in order. Yes I believe that killing characters is often necessary to the story, however character death should be integral to plot, characters or themes, or else it often feels cheep.

This one kind of has two yet one answer. As a fic writer, no, I am not a ruthless assassin. I will work within the bounds of canonical character death but I’ve never actually killed off anyone who doesn’t die in canon. (Actually, I think my current WIP is going to be the first time I actually write a death scene instead of just eluding to it). As an OC haver, it’s a bit more complicated. I’ve only really started playing with OCs like this last year, so I haven’t had the time or quantity to really find out. I think the though that I am somewhere in the centre if no death ever - character assassin was a sliding scale. I will kill OCs if it is important or central to their stories, like with my clone squad. Only one of them makes it out the other side of the war, but that’s due to both A) the nature of TCW and B) my story for them. However my little rag tag mando crew has like a 85-95% survival rate (I don’t know for sure yet bc I just have characters and no real story but like, I am almost positive they all live). So idk judge my ruthlessness as you see fit. (And yes I do morn the ones I kill.)

26. How do you get into your character’s head? How do you get out? Do you ever regret going in there in the first place?

Hmmm. This one is interesting. When writing fic, I actually require a pretty long “gestation” period before I feel comfortable actually writing from a characters POV. I often feel like I don’t know enough to really get into things just through canon. This period often includes reading as many fics from their pov I can get my hands on, taking in their internal monologue, contrasting it with other depictions and then solidifying my voice of that character. This period is often much shorter for book characters and longer for film, audio drama or other non monologuey characters. But also since the vast majority of my writing is focused on interpersonal interactions I have to also think about the character dynamics during this period. How do these characters think about eachother, how do their conversations flow? This second part comes a lot easier to me and I can often just go off canon. I don’t think I’ve ever struggled to get out of a characters head honestly, nor have I truely regretted doing some digging on someone. The worst consequences have just been that sometimes it makes me sad on their behalf in a “damn bitch you live like this?” Kind of way.

39. What keeps you writing when you feel like giving up?

Best defence is an offence, kind of. I try not to get to a point where I’ve lost interest or am stagnating! (No shit right?) Since writing is a hobby and creative outlet away from my non hobby creative outlets, I really don’t want to do it when I’m not getting anything out of it. So, the way I try to keep myself invested and writing is through momentum. My goal is to write almost every day. I often finish a scene in one or maybe two sittings and the high from finishing one is the perfect thing to get me writing the next. However this only really works with short form stuff bc the longer something is the more you are forced to step away from it and actually think about the structure and take breaks. Unfortunately I’ve lost a lot of momentum for my current WIP bc of some medical stuff that prevented me from writing for basically a week right at a really tricky spot I need to push through. So now the key is sheer stubbornness. I’ve written this much so I sure as hell am going to try my damndest to finish it. Sometimes writing js about pushing through a barrier only to find your footing a paragraph or two in.

#ask game

[remcycl333]

you don’t need to be happy to be manifest!! but...

who doesn’t want to be happy?

(long post alert, sorry in advance lol. but please read it all the way through, i really think it’ll be worth it<3)

ok, to preface this, you don’t need to be happy to manifest. i’ve manifested great, positive things while i was in depressive episodes. i manifested wonderful things with tears streaming down my face. BUT, i think something a lot of people overlook is that it’s really beneficial to feel positively about your desires.

this is something i realized a few months ago, saw great results from, and then forgot all about and, well, stopped seeing the progress i wanted. but i’m back on track now, don’t you worry.

(i’m going to be using the example of my sp, bc that’s what i have the most experience with, but this applies to literally anything u r manifesting) 

i’ve made a few other posts saying pretty much what i’m about to say in this next paragraph, so if you’ve already read those, i’m sorry for repeating myself. just bear with me lol. 

so i came to a realization a few months ago--and i don’t exactly remember how i came to this realization--that i kind of...hated my sp? like i fucking resented him. and i was like, wait a minute, that’s not right. i love my sp. that’s why i’m trying to manifest him! so why do i feel like this?

i used to focus on manifesting in steps, so naturally the first step was contact. so i’d be affirming all day every day “my sp is texting me right fucking now😡“ (and other variations) and then when he didn’t text me, it’d just make me angry at him. but technically, he didn’t even do anything wrong?? sure he didn’t text me, but he had no clue he was supposed to? idk it was all complicated and weird. and then when i wasn’t mad that he didn’t text me, i was having arguments with him in my head, preparing for some weird fight that my brain just assumed was going to happen whenever we did get into contact. which is weird, bc my sp and i never fight. like, this is my ex. yet i literally cannot tell you a single fight that we have ever had. we literally get along perfectly. we have never fought (or even argued) once in all the time that we’ve known each other. yet my brain was always fighting him. and it was just, exhausting?

and so one day, when i was troubleshooting, i realized: rem, if you were in a relationship right now with your sp, would u hate him? would u be constantly fighting with him? god i fucking hope not! 

now, what would i be thinking? i’d be laying in bed at night, hugging my pillow, thinking about how much i love him. reflecting on how happy he makes me, how perfect he is, how good he makes me feel. i’d be thinking about how he is the most perfect boyfriend i could ever have asked for. i’d be content after spending a long day with him, excited to spend the next day with him as well. 

and during the day i wouldn’t be wondering why he wasn’t texting me. if anything, i’d be wondering why he was texting me considering we were literally hanging out, together, at that very moment! 

i would trust him. i’d be walking on cloud nine. i’d be content. i’d be...happy. 

now, in no way am i saying that you need to be happy 24/7, or dancing on air, or feeling intense butterflies in your stomach. you’re allowed to have other emotions. you’re allowed to feel anger, you’re allowed to break down and cry! you’re allowed to have bad days. but if you’re feeling these negative emotions about your desire, i want you to try your hardest to release them. i don’t think any of us want to have breakdowns over our manifestations and cry about them, but if it happens, it happens. just pick yourself up afterwards--or stop it before it even really begins, trust me, it gets easier to do this--and maybe do a few deep breaths to calm yourself down, and remind yourself why you’re on this journey in the first place. once again using the sp example, it’s because you love your sp. because they are perfect for you! they make you happy. you love their smile, their laugh, the witty conversations you have with each other. you love being in their arms.  you love when they’re in your arms! they did something that made you fall in love with them, or want to be in a relationship with them. what was it? focus on that. 

enough with the sammy ingram (i could go on a whole rant about her) style affirmations. with the “he’s going to fucking text me, he has no choice, he’s my fucking boyfriend and he does what i say.” like....ew?? i used to say shit like this, and it was really what started making me resent my sp. i was ordering him around in my head, creating this weird dynamic between us (which, he wasn’t even aware was there), and getting mad when he wasn’t doing what i was ordering him to do. looking back, it was borderline psychotic. it was just turning it into me against him, and that’s not what i wanted at all. i want to be in a relationship with him, with mutual love. i don’t want to be his boss, or his mom, or his fucking military sergeant!! (i don’t even know if that was the proper term bc fuck the military, but u guys know what i mean lmfaooo)

(disclaimer if u use these types of affirmations and they work for you, go for it. but i used them for a while and they just weren’t it for me. carry on)

i guess what i’m trying to say is, those affirmations weren’t making me feel good. they weren’t making me feel like a “boss ass bitch”. they were making me feel...like a bitch. and strangely, powerless. i’d say these affirmations, or just bland ones where i wasn’t necessarily demanding my sp to throw himself at my feet and kiss my shoes and tell me he is nothing without me, and ultimately, if i wasn’t feeling resentment, i was feeling...nothing. 

once again, i want to make this so so so clear, you don’t need to be happy to manifest. but my belief? if your affirmations aren’t making you feel joy, or excitement, or contentment, then what’s the fucking point? if you think of your desire, and don’t feel positive feelings about it, then you might have lost your way a little. 

don’t worry!! it’s an easy fix. easy, and even...fun? rewarding? comforting? i just want you to take some time--laying in bed at night is the perfect time to do this in my experience--to think about why you want your desire so badly. do you want money? think of how great life is going to be once you have it. of all the stuff you’re going to buy, for yourself, and maybe even for others. don’t focus on the problems you want to fix with it right now. think of that clothing item you’ve had your eye on, or that book you’ve been wanting to read but haven’t felt like “wasting” money on. think of how excited you are to buy those things, because you’re going to! think of the good. not the bad.

remember: you create more of what you focus on. focus on the good, get the good. focus more on the bad...get more of the bad. 

your manifestation is done. it is created. it is on it’s way to you. it is here! all there’s left to do is feel excited. it’ll be here any moment now, how fucking exciting is that! it’s safe for you to be happy. it’s safe for you to focus on the feelings you would have if you had it, rather than focus on affirming specifically to bring it to you. it is safe to be happy. 

i used to affirm solely for contact, all day every day, and sometimes i’d get it. but it’d be short lived, my sp would be distant, etc. but then once i started focusing on truly living in the end and basking in my love for my sp, thinking about how perfect and amazing he is, i not only got contact (without having to specifically affirm for it), but he was actively engaged in our conversations, making up new topics to keep the conversation going, asking me about and expressing interest in my hobbies and interests, bringing up and reminiscing on old memories of our previous relationship, complimenting me, flirting with me, asking me to hang out, etc. shit i was not getting when i was “he is so fucking in love with me and he’s texting me right fucking now”-ing all day long. i started focusing on how amazing and perfect and good to me he was, and that’s exactly what i got in my reality. who would’ve thunk? 

and you know what? yeah, he fucking loves me. he misses me and he wants to be with me. but that’s a given. but that doesn’t fucking matter. i am the only person who matters in my reality!! sure he loves me, but do i love him??? that’s what the universe wants to know. that’s what truly fucking matters. the universe brings me my desires. so i’m gonna fucking desire it! 

guys, please trust me on this. just try it out, with whatever you’re manifesting. this could be what you’re missing. this could bring your manifestation to you. i promise, if you’re like i was and feel resententment or anger or hatred towards your desire, this is going to make you feel so fucking good. just stick with this for a week or two. i promise, you’ll see movement.

and remember, there is no one to change but self. don’t change them (or it), change your perception of them (or it). 

let’s make manifesting fun again!!! it’s the perfect tool to bring happiness into your life. so fucking let it!!!! 

so no, you don’t need to be happy in order to manifest. but....maybe, just maybe, prioritizing your happiness isn’t such a bad thing. i mean, who doesn’t want to be happy?

#law of assumption #manifestation #manifesting

[greensaplinggrace]

So you mentioned in another post that you have some strong thoughts on Baghra, especially about how the story frames her as one of the good guys. I would love to hear about it.

@youremotionallystablefriend: I would love to hear you rant about Baghra if you feel like it (and haven’t already)! Personally I don’t think she gets enough constructive critique in the fandom for being the one that brought Aleks up and for the way she treated her pupils and especially Alina :/

Anon: Hello! I love your thoughts on the grisha books. I'm actually interested to hear your take on Baghra

@misku-nimfa: If you are up for it, I would love to read your thoughts on Baghra or your full critique of society in the Grishaverse. Your analysis is really well structured and interesting! ^.^

Anon: Hi! I saw your recent post and was wondering if you'd share more of your thoughts on Baghra?

---

Hello everyone! I was honestly very surprised to see so many people interested in my thoughts on Baghra? I'll share what I can, but please know that this is by no means a full breakdown of her character! It’s just some Thoughts I’ve had, and they’re mostly centered around show Baghra because that’s how I was first introduced to her character. Although IMO book Baghra might actually be even worse.

I’d like to preface this by saying that many of my issues with the treatment of Baghra as a character in fandom come from the wild double standard there seems to be regarding her and the Darkling. Darkling Antis and a vast majority of the people in this fandom who don’t like his character have a disturbing habit of absolutely ripping into the Darkling for all of his faults and then turning around and treating Baghra as some sort of pristine mother figure for the exact same shit.

They’ll talk about how badass she is, how strong she is, how they sympathize with her past (although they’ll continue to dehumanize the Darkling and refuse to sympathize with his own past) and sympathize with the fact that she has to deal with the Darkling (who’s always referred to as a monster she must corral or control, as if he is inhumane and beastly. These particular comments always take on the very distinct tone of victim blaming as well). They’ll laud her for all of these “powerful girlboss” moments as if they aren’t carbon copies of the Darkling’s own behavior - as if they aren’t things Baghra herself taught him. Which is why this is the wildest double standard of all to me, because every horrible action they praise Baghra for is something she taught the Darkling, and something they cannot stand to see in him as well.

It’s as if there’s a disconnect between their consumption of the literature when it comes to the two characters, and I’m of the opinion that it’s largely because Baghra is a woman and a mother and therefore infantilized in the fandom quite a bit. In fact, Bardugo herself often infantilizes many of her female characters in her writing. This is mostly through the process of excusing their terrible deeds, not allowing them to do anything remotely dark, or brushing any morally grey actions under the rug without ever touching upon them. Which puts me in the strange position of knowing I’m supposed to sympathize with Baghra for having to deal with the monster she’s created, and instead feeling resentful of the fact that this bitter woman is held up as this wise old strict teacher instead of the abusive mentor/mother she should have been.

Now, here’s what I said to make so many of you send me asks:

Last note, in reference to your first line, and also probably a pretty unpopular opinion. I do not like Baghra. And it legit has nothing to do with the Darkling or with Alina, I just don't like her "I'm going to hit you and berate you and emotionally abuse you and manipulate you and act like the good guy at the end of it" vibe she's got going on. At least Aleksander is acknowledged as the villain within the narrative. Idk wtf Baghra is on but it's absolutely wild to me that people aren't more critical of her actions. Which is, rather fortunately for you, another rant I will save for another post if anybody ever wants to hear it lol. (but like kudos to Baghra's actress. I loved the character as a character, I just don't like the way she's framed as a good guy. Weird. Uncomfortable. She literally set bees on the kids she was teaching).

This basically summarizes most of my thoughts on Baghra as a character and how she’s portrayed. I touched on it a bit above, but the way she’s able to get away with so much and not suffer under heavier critique is honestly baffling to me. There should be a lot more criticism of her out there in the fandom. This is the woman who abused her students and neglected her son. Although to be honest I don’t even know how to quite describe the emotionally neglectful yet unhealthily codependent bond she fostered in him from a young age. IMO, Baghra’s behavior around Aleksander is creepy, and I know she has a history that makes it more understandable, but it’s still incredibly disconcerting to witness.

But let’s get back on track! First of all, her students. Whom she physically, emotionally, and mentally abuses. She’s derisive, she’s insulting, she’s belittling. She works hard to strip them of any self confidence they may have. She uses pain as a means of triggering powers. And the strict teacher excuse doesn’t fly. The “it’s only a training method!” excuse is even worse. This is literal abuse she’s heaping on her students and it’s wretched.

The first thing she does to Alina when they first meet is insult her. Then she hits her. Then she kicks her out.

Second time they interact is a montage. Baghra hits Alina multiple times. She shames her. And then when Alina actually calls a light she tells her it’s not nearly enough, effectively wiping the smile off of her face and every sign of self confidence that had been building. Then we see the door to Baghra’s hut shut in Alina’s face. So now she has been bruised, battered, berated, stripped of all self confidence, and then banished again. As training methods go, this is not only entirely ineffective, but it’s also just abusive.

Then we get this interaction between Alina and her friends:

Marie: One time, Baghra released a hive of bees on me. Nadia: Worst part is, it worked. Marie: It really did. I could summon at will after that.

Which is fucking horrifying and not talked about nearly enough. That goes beyond hitting your students. Baghra used a fear tactic on a young girl to activate her powers. She literally tortured Marie to make her powers work.

Alina throughout this conversation is looking very disheartened. She’s lacking in any self confidence and the comment about the bees has clearly affected her. For someone who’s first words to Alina were “Everyone believes that you are the one. Come back when you believe it too,”  Baghra doesn’t exactly seem keen on Alina actually believing she’s the one. If she did, she wouldn’t be stripping her of every positive emotion associated with sun summoning.

Let’s not forget that Baghra demeans Alina multiple times for her status as an orphan. How she utilizes what she knows of Alina’s emotional weaknesses to provoke her and discourage her and make her angry.

And then Baghra drugs her without consent. To take advantage of any information Alina gives her in that state. To use the way Alina reacts for her own ends.

Because why else would she say this?:

Alina: We planned to run away together. Baghra: You had plans. Perhaps he never did, because where is he now?

Which is, strangely enough, the same sense of isolation and separation from Mal and her past that Aleksander is attempting to foster. Weird how mother and son are both using the same manipulation tactics.

In fact, why does Baghra never tell Alina about the letters until she’s already engaged with Aleksander? Baghra must have known he was taking them. Alina talks about it enough. Baghra must have known he was isolating her from Mal. How could she not, when it’s revealed later that she has spies in the Little Palace collecting information on him? How could she not, when she knows he’s the villain from the beginning - when she knows he’s manipulating Alina?

Baghra knows, and yet she keeps the same lies Aleksander does and furthermore uses that information to make Alina feel even more isolated and weak. Baghra literally just piggy-backs on Aleksander’s manipulation and then exacerbates it. She wants Alina to feel no attachments to her past because she wants to use Alina as well. But for some reason, because this manipulation and treatment of Alina as some sort of tool is done by the woman who opposes the Darkling, it’s suddenly okay. As if it still isn’t the same terrible shit but with a different perpetrator. I mean damn, at least Aleksander feels something for Alina. Baghra’s just cold.

So, point by point. Baghra mentions how Mal doesn’t care for Alina, she mentions Alina’s failings constantly, she mentions Alina being an orphan, she constantly hits her, she guilts Alina about orphans dying, she works to instill a sense of isolation from her friends and her family.

And when Alina finally comes to Baghra, having decided to abandon her attachments to her past and her attachments to Mal, the words that ring in her head are Baghra's words - “needing anyone else is weak.”  Which is honestly just a horrible sentiment in general, but an even worse one when considering how hard these people are working to detach Alina from anybody who can help her or give her an outside perspective.

Strangely, it’s also similar to this line:

The problem with wanting, is that it makes us weak.

...which is spoken by Baghra’s son. You know, the Darkling? Our big bad villain? The one Baghra raised?

Which gives me the impression that Baghra’s teaching methods with her students are really not that far off from the teaching methods she used on him as he was growing up. It’s a horrifying thought, and leads into my problems with her relationship with Aleksander.

First of all, show wise. What the fuck.

Aleksander: They’re punishing us for being Grisha. Baghra: Punishing you. You made him afraid. Now he wants you to fear him. Aleksander: I won a war for him. Baghra: And in doing so, started a war on us.

I get that she’s trying to convey how the king feels here, but it still feels incredibly victim blamey from a narrative standpoint. It isn’t Aleksander’s fault the king fears him when he used his powers under the King’s banner to help him win a war. Aleksander trusted this man who betrayed him and then betrayed his people, and we get a line from his mother, entirely unsympathetic, talking about how it’s his fault all of these people are dying.

Baghra: Where’s the girl, your healer? Aleksander: Dead. She died because of me. Baghra: She died because they always do. They’re not as strong as you and me.

Baghra’s use of the term ‘girl’ and ‘healer' here instead of Luda is pretty telling. She either doesn’t like Luda or doesn’t care for her. Either way, this is the woman her son loves, and Baghra talks about her so dispassionately. Then he comments on Luda’s death and there’s no reaction except to say that they always do.

Like, her son is literally broken up over here. Grieving. Desperate. Run ragged. Caged and hunted. Feeling guilty as hell. Mind running through a million different ways he could possibly save all of these people. And Baghra offers him nothing except a paltry “people die, get over it, we’re better than that, she didn’t matter anyway.”

Honestly, how is Aleksander even still functioning at this point? He has no support system and he’s working against a king and his army to protect a group of civilians he could easily abandon to save himself. The sheer amount of responsibility and mental strain keeping track of a group alone entails is already monstrous, but adding in every other factor? The recent death of Luda, the fact that they’re cornered and they’ve been hunted down while fleeing across the land, the fact that he was just a couple hours ago forced to his knees and entirely at these men’s mercy, begging for Luda’s life. And here his mother is, if anything a negative support system. Offering no other ideas, telling him to give up hope, not even offering the barest smidgeon of emotional support as he grieves, putting everything on his shoulders.

It pisses me the fuck off.

Aleksander: You’re the one who taught me how to kill, mother. Their blood is on your hands as much as mine.  Baghra: I taught you so you could protect yourself. Not them.

Once more, Baghra highlights how he needs to protect himself. How he should abandon the people he’s protecting. How he shouldn't help others and only ever himself. Once more, she says it’s my way or the high way. There’s zero effort to work with him. Zero effort to sympathize or compromise. She’s constantly pushing him to take the one option she knows he won’t take. The hell did she think was going to happen?

Also, Baghra taught him how to kill. Not necessarily great parenting, but understandable given the circumstances of his upbringing. But the level to which she takes it is honestly concerning. Like, look no further than this woman to see where Aleksander got it from lol.

Baghra also forbids him from using Merzost. Which is great and all, she gets to claim the moral high ground. But she doesn’t offer a single alternative except to flee and let everybody die. There was legitimately no other option to Merzost except for torture and death. If there was, Baghra sure as hell didn’t help Aleksander come up with one. Aleksander, who - by the way - is in no fit emotional state to be making any kind of decision right now.

So anyways, that’s just my tv show grief regarding Baghra, and it’s not even really all of it. I don’t want to make this an hour long read though lmao. But I’ll go over a few other things.

First of all, Baghra’s whole “We’re the only two that matter. We have to do whatever we can to protect ourselves,” mentality is one that she actively touts to Aleksander on a regular basis when he’s incredibly young. It’s honestly a wonder he grows up to care about other people at all. But the mentality itself is something Aleksander still heavily internalized in regards to protecting himself and those he deems worthy at any cost.

There’s a moment in the books when Aleksander is attacked and nearly drowned by some kids who wanted his bones (one of which was a close friend of his). He uses the cut in self defense and then blames the nearby Otkazat’sya village. Baghra knows he’s lying, and yet she allows an entire village to get slaughtered for harming him. This is a disproportionately violent act that Baghra approves of, and Aleksander as a kid is definitely internalizing that mindset.

Also, Baghra’s behavior around Aleksander has always been weirdly possessive and controlling. Especially when it comes to the people he loves. Her actions often come across as her trying to isolate him in order to keep him by her side, even when the relationships he has are clearly intimate. Which... is especially strange for a mother to be doing to her son.

She was also an extremely emotionally neglectful mother. Based on the show and what I gathered from her actions there, I’m actually half convinced she was physically abusive as well, in that “I think I’m being a stern, good parent figure when in reality I’m actually harming my child” kind of way. She fosters codependence with her son and then refuses to provide for any of his emotional needs. She drives it into his head that everybody dies, that he’ll always be alone, that love is useless and power is everything. She denies him the opportunity to be soft and works to harden him at a young age. She tells him he must never allow people to touch him, except she doesn’t work to supplement those physical needs in any way. She essentially abuses him.

Honestly, I could go on. But in reality the simple fact is that I just don’t like her. I think she’s a hypocrite. I think she’s abusive. I think she’s a terrible mentor and an even worse mother. And I think the fandom and the books are willing to brush aside so many of her faults simply because she opposes the Darkling.

I’m sorry if this isn’t what you guys were looking for! It sounds like a lot of you wanted a more of a sophisticated breakdown, but my thoughts on Baghra come with a heap of emotional baggage lol. It feels weird to say this now, but I actually do like the character as a character, I just,,, don’t like her in every other aspect. My feelings on Baghra are just a bit personal, to be honest. But hopefully this was at least comprehensible??

#shadow and bone #sab #grishaverse #anti leigh bardugo #anti baghra #baghra critical #sab spoilers #demon in the wood spoilers #aleksander morozova #sab meta #the darkling #fandomcourse #myramblings #leigh bardugo critical #mymetas #anti darklina bs #please dont hate me for this #aaahhhh now im worried #Yikes

[helnjk]

Stitching Together - G.W.

George Weasley x fem!reader 

Requested: yes !! by my lovely bean marissa @lumos-barnes

please accept my humble request for a george x reader where the reader owns a shop in diagon alley and one day they walk into WWW and george knocks over a whole display, he is a complete SIMP & cannot compose himself. complete buffoonery when the reader is near. they become friends & do all these nice things for each other and the reader is oblivious like "george, i'm so lucky to be your friend" (even though the reader is secretly simping) and he's like "um what, i'm literally in love with you"

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: mentions of meals and drinks (coffee), but other than that it’s just pure fluff & Dumb Idiots In Love

A/N: somehow i always end up writing george knitting? idk how it happened, but it happened. i hope you like it marissa 🥺💕

–

You took a step back to admire your handiwork. 

After what seemed like neverending hours, the layout of your shop was finally perfect. From where you stood, you had a view of the streets of Diagon Alley, several passersby coming and goings from your sight. The display of charmed knit work by the window was already moving, demonstrating simple stitches that formed into a scarf. 

It had always been your dream to open up your own shop in the most prominent wizarding area of Britain, with your passion for knitting and crafting, but the timing had always been off. Now, about a year or so since the war had ended, your grandmother surprised you with the capital to make your dreams come true. 

The gesture was extra special because she was the one who first taught you how to knit. Many summers were spent in her cottage, sitting side by side and working on personal projects together. 

Outside, your sign read ‘Stitching Together: Grand Opening’. There were a few flyers posted right on the door and on the window advertising the different classes and crafting groups you were offering, as well as the different products that could be found in your store. 

It was as if your heart could burst at the sight of your fully furnished shop and you could wait no longer. With a flick of your wand, the sign on the door flipped to say open and that was that. 

–

“Hey Freddie, have you seen that new shop that’s opened down the street?” George yelled from the bottom of the stairs once the last customer of the day made their leave. 

“Haven’t gone in, but it’s gotten a lot of customers from what I can tell!” the disembodied voice of his twin replied from somewhere above. 

As he began the process of cleaning up and reshelving, products floating in midair or zooming towards their proper shelves, he called out once more, “What type of store is it d’you reckon?” 

“Arts and crafts? Something like that.” 

George’s eyes drifted towards the shop window, where he could just barely see the outline of the new store. Dusk had begun to set in London, so the sky was filled with brilliant hues of purple and orange. His curiosity getting the better of him, he decided that he would go welcome the new shop owner to Diagon Alley. 

With a shout to let his twin know where he was off to, George strode out of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes and into the brisk weather. Luckily for him, Stitching Together was still open. He could see you bustling around inside, fixing displays and swishing your wand to tidy everything up.

It had only been around a month since your shop had opened, but the local wizard folk of London seemed to be very keen on buying the different things you sold. Many came around to purchase the instructional books and the different kinds of wool and yarn, and some of your regulars had even taken an interest in the classes you held weekly. It was a great way for you to get to know the community and to establish friendships. 

You had always taken note of the joke shop a few shops down from you, but with the hustle and bustle of just opening, you hadn’t had a chance to visit or introduce yourself to the owners. It was just your luck that one half of them pushed open the door to your shop, the little bell at the top of it ringing to indicate his presence. 

“Oh, hello!” you smiled, turning to face the redheaded man, “Welcome to Stitching Together, what could I help you with?” 

Unbeknownst to George, your heart began to beat rapidly in your chest. How could a man be so positively handsome you didn’t know, but at the sight of him standing by the door, all you could think about was how gorgeous he was. And he hadn’t even uttered a single word yet! 

The charming smile he sent your way did not help the heat you could feel creeping up your neck. “Just popping by to say hello and welcome to Diagon Alley! My twin and I run Wheezes just down the street,” he said. 

Your smile grew as he stuck his hand out for you to shake, “Oh I was just thinking about how I’ve been wanting to pay your shop a visit! I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“George Weasley at your service,” his hand was firm and warm as he shook yours, eyes sparkling with something you couldn’t quite name. “Nice to meet you!” 

“So tell me about your shop!” 

Somehow, after that evening, George Weasley snuck his way into becoming a part of your daily routine.

Every morning he would show up with two cups of coffee in hand right before your shop was set to open. After realizing that you depended on caffeine to function throughout your day, he made it a point to bring you one everyday. As you sipped on your coffees, the two of you would spend a few minutes chatting about your plans for the day before going to work. 

Whenever you would offer to pay for your own cup or even try to insinuate that you could get your own coffee in the morning, just so that he wouldn’t have to go through the trouble, he would stop you in your tracks.

“But George–”

“Nope!” he would say in a voice louder than yours. “I’m doing this out of the kindness of my heart. I really feel for your customers who have to deal with a Y/N that hasn’t had her coffee fix. Could you imagine the grumpiness? Not on my watch!” 

You would roll your eyes, but secretly it warmed your heart how sweet this boy could be. He was slowly inching his way into your life and becoming a great friend. 

–

“So,” said Fred one day as George had gotten back from delivering your daily coffee, “The bird from the knitting shop, huh?” 

His twin only rolled his eyes in response, used to the teasing that came with being brothers (and twins) with Fred Weasley. Instead of engaging, George went instead to do the routine last check over their store before they officially opened their doors. Still, Fred couldn’t resist the temptation to continue provoking him. 

“Oi! C’mon, you bring her coffee everyday even if you don’t like the stuff. If I don’t remind you that you have a store to run, you would spend the whole day staring out the window just to catch a glimpse of the girl! Tell me you’re not whipped for her,” he teased, following George through the shop.

From their position at the till and on the second floor, both Verity and Lee tried to hide their smirks. This was too good a story to not eavesdrop on. 

“Come off it, Fred.” George rolled his eyes. “I’m just being a good friend, that’s all!” 

“Yeah but you wouldn’t mind being more than friends.” 

The cheeky wink Fred sent George was not appreciated, as the prior soon found out, having to duck away from a stinging hex. Still, Fred’s laugh rang through the semi-empty store as he ran away from his brother. 

Later in the day, as the lunch crowd tapered off, the four of them were left to mull around a bit. Lee and Verity were off taking stock in the back room, Fred was doing some accounting (because his twin couldn’t be trusted with any sort of math), and George was reshelving some Skiving Snackboxes. 

The bell above the door to the shop rang, but he couldn’t quite tell who came in from his position towards the back of the shop. 

“Welcome to Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes!” he yelled, rushing to get all the boxes in order before he could help the new customer, “I’ll be with you in just a second!” 

Just as he admired his handiwork, eyes scanning the display to make sure nothing was out of place, a familiar voice called from behind him, “It’s alright, take your time. I’m not looking for anything in particular.” 

George almost jumped out of his skin as he heard your voice. He was so surprised that as he turned to meet you, his elbow caught on the edge of one of the Snackboxes and the whole thing toppled over. 

You watched as the tower of boxes crumbled around him, and your hand automatically covered your mouth as you tried to contain your laughter. It didn’t work, though, and soon the whole store could hear your guffaws. 

Thankfully, George was a wizard, and what would’ve taken a muggle quite some time to fix, only took a quick flick of his wand. 

“Oops,” you smiled at him bashfully as he finished, “Didn’t mean to startle you, Weasley.”

“Erm, it-it’s alright,” he blushed, “I just didn’t expect you to come ‘round today.” 

In truth, the reason why George was so flustered at your appearance at his shop was because he had just spent most of the afternoon thinking about you. He often did that, getting lost in his thoughts about the many little things that made you, well, you. The deep breath you took before that first sip of coffee in the morning, revelling in the aroma. How your face lit up when you spoke about the different people you met in your classes. Your hands and how skillfully they worked whatever project you were creating at the moment. 

He wouldn’t admit it to Fred, but what his twin had said earlier in the day was accurate. He was absolutely smitten over you. 

“Well you’ve been a regular over at mine for the last couple of weeks, I’m just returning the favor and visiting my favorite redhead at his place of work!” 

“I-I,” he stuttered, his brain refusing to acknowledge the fact that he was your favorite anything. 

Fred, who had heard the commotion and had gone down to check if everything was okay, nearly face palmed as he watched George fumble through his words. The man was whipped for you, no doubt about it, and as a good twin, he decided to save his brother from further humiliation. 

“I think what my lovely twin here is trying to say, is that you just haven’t met enough redheads to make your decision about your favorite one,” he said, smoothly inserting himself into the conversation. “Fred Weasley, at your service!” 

Your smile immediately brightened at the sight of George’s twin holding out his hand for you to shake, “Nice to meet you! I’m Y/N, George’s told me loads about you!” 

“Has he?” Fred raised his eyebrow, turning to look at George who was still a little dumbstruck at the sight of you in his shop. “Well, that just means it’s my turn to spend some time with such a lovely lady. C’mon, I’ll give you a tour of the shop!”

“Oh I’d love that.” 

With a small glance and wave at George, you took the arm that Fred was holding out for you, and so began his (largely amusing) tour of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. 

“What in Merlin’s name was that!” yelled Fred the moment you left the shop. 

George groaned into his hands, embarrassment creeping back into him. He had acted a fool, unable to even mutter a single sentence to you the whole time you were around. 

“Mate, I have never seen you so flustered around a girl,” his twin muttered, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, “Just tell her you’ve got feelings for her! Ask her on a date, do something! From what I could tell, you’re not the only one who’s caught feelings.” 

“It’s not like that between us,” he said, “I doubt she even notices how much I fancy her.” 

–

Somehow, George wound up taking Fred’s advice. Though, in typical-George fashion, he never explicitly mentioned to you anything about the way he felt. 

Instead, he would stay around your shop longer in the mornings, taking slower than usual sips of his coffee (which he still couldn’t say he preferred over a good cup of tea). Other days, he would come around closing time and help put everything back in order and if he was lucky, the two of you would go out to dinner. Of course, he would also never let you pay a sickle for your meal, no matter how much you insisted. 

Weekends were usually spent together as well. 

Saturdays were for brunch and muggle films on the telly. It was one of the rare occasions he would drink a beverage in front of you that wasn’t that (god forsaken) coffee. 

Sundays were more for crafting together. He would floo into your flat after having lunch with his family and the two of you would continue working on his little project. 

“My mum loves to knit,” he mentioned one day, while he observed your quick hands skillfully moving the thread through your needles. “She knits us all sweaters for Christmas. It’s become a tradition of sorts.” 

“That’s lovely,” you smiled up at him.

“Yeah, anyone who’s practically family gets one too. Like Harry and Hermione,” he mused.

“I could teach you how to knit her something, if you wanted,” you offered. “It’d be something pretty simple though, especially if you’ve never knitted anything before.”

The smile he sent you was so dazzling, you had to take a moment. You were practically melting under his tender gaze and you swallowed thickly, trying to gain your composure. 

 “That’d be bloody brilliant, Y/N!” 

You only hoped he didn’t notice how your face got hot and how your hands couldn’t move the needles to do what you wanted, too flustered to be precise with your movements.

Since then, the two of you spent most of Sunday afternoons making sure George had the correct strings of yarn on the correct needle. You would keep a close eye on him and his progress, but most of the time he was alright on his own. Sometimes, he would purposely sit closer to you on your couch and you could practically feel the warmth radiating from him. 

In between knits, your eyes would drift towards his focused face and you would smile. George had a habit of poking the tip of his tongue out when he was knitting. Something about the gesture helped him concentrate, and you found it absolutely adorable.

The more time you spent together, though, the more confused George got. It was getting to a point where in his head, it was impossible to miss what he was trying to say with his actions. You had to have caught on by now. And, since you hadn’t acknowledged what was going on between the two of you, he had assumed that this was your polite way of rejecting him.  

On a chilly morning, he clutched the warm cups of coffee in his hands as he pushed the door to Stitching Together open with his back. 

“Morning, Y/N!” he greeted.

You grinned in his direction as he made his way towards you. The moment he placed the warm drink in your hands and you took your first sip, a small moan of gratefulness escaped your lips.

“Merlin, I don’t deserve you,” you mumbled to your cup. 

“Sorry?” George asked, brows furrowed slightly. 

“Oh nothing!” you quickly said, “I’m just really glad you’re my friend, Georgie.” 

Friend. 

The word seemed to make his heart sink down to his stomach and ignite something in him at the same time. It was time that he told you how he felt, no matter what would happen afterwards. He couldn’t keep going on pretending he wasn’t head over heels in love with you. 

“Erm, about that Y/N,” he began, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his work uniform, “I’ve got to tell you something.” 

It was now or never. 

You smiled up at him encouragingly, almost oblivious to the bundle of nerves that were most definitely visible in his expression. 

“I-I don’t want to be just friends, Y/N,” he said, lips pursed in anticipation.

“What do you want then?” you still didn’t understand what he was trying to say. 

In a burst of confidence, George took your hands in his and gripped them tightly, “I want to be with you. I fancy you loads, I think I might even be in love with you, Y/N. Honestly, I might’ve been in love with you from the moment I first walked into your shop.” 

Your lack of an immediate response left him to back track, “But I understand completely if you don’t feel the same way, I just wanted to get it out there.” 

For a moment, the two of you were silent. George eyed you nervously, wondering what was going on through your head, bracing himself for the rejection that he thought was on the tip of your tongue. 

Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore, “Y/N? Do you want me to go?” 

Instead of answering, you flung your arms around his neck. He was so startled at your sudden gesture that he almost didn’t notice your lips on his. Almost. 

As suddenly as you had kissed him, all of his apprehensions melted away. Almost automatically, his arms found themselves wrapped around your waist and he pulled you closer to him. Your lips melted together seamlessly. It was as if this was where the two of you were meant to be, and you couldn’t help but smile into the kiss. 

Sooner than you had liked, George pulled away from you slightly. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t help but dip his head down to peck your lips again. Once, twice, three times. This left you a giggly mess, your nose scrunching up in a way that was practically begging him to kiss it as well. 

“Does that mean you fancy me too?” he murmured against your lips. 

“Absolutely, head over heels,” you smiled in return. 

The pair of you spent a brief moment with your foreheads pressed together, giddy smiles on your faces. That was until a knock on the door of your shop sounded. Immediately, you sprung apart, a blush coating tip of George’s ears and cheeks. 

A few people stood outside, eyeing you amusedly. 

“Oh shit,” you said, hurrying to flip the sign on the door to say ‘open’ and to unlock the door with a flick of your wand. “I completely forgot I had a class today.” 

As the small group of people began to file inside, they sent knowing glances your way to which you only groaned softly and looked up at George.

“I’ll see you tonight?” you asked hopefully. 

With a kiss to your cheek and a mischievous grin he said, “You can count on it, love.” 

–

General taglist: @expectoevans @george-fabian-weasley @gxthsanrio @slytherinscribbles @harpyloon @nuttytani @mesmerisedangel @amourtentiaa @sarcasticallywitty15 @lumos-barnes

Weasley twins taglist: @whizboingies @pineapplesandpinas @papapapadumb @Mrs-g-weasley @a-castle-of--glass @hey-there-angels @leovaldez37 @pinkypurplemagic @werewolfslut @surprizeshawtyy

crossed out means i couldn’t tag you for some reason, sorry!

#george weasley #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley imagines #george weasley imagine #george weasley fics #george weasley fic #george weasley x reader #george wealsey x y/n #tw meal mention #tw drink mention

[retrievablememories]

picture me | johnny (m)

title: picture me pairing: vampire!johnny x black!reader genre: fantasy, romance, smut, fluff, angst summary: you meet a vampire-slash-photographer whose self-identity is increasingly lost to him, and you try to help him find some purpose again. word count: 18.3k warnings: age gap (cuz you know, vampires...but everyone is legal), mentions of discrimination/prejudice based on species, self-identity issues/self-deprecation, general angst, sheltered!reader, mentions of blood and drinking blood, oral sex (female and male receiving), fingering, thigh riding, loss of virginity, corruption kink, use of lube, unprotected sex (do not try at home), creampie, johnny is packing in this fic ok! a/n: today (the 28th) is my birthday, so i’m posting this 100% self-indulgent fic that i’ve been working on between requests since september. it was very hard to get johnny’s characterization right for this fic and idk if i actually succeeded but i’m not revising this for the 1000th time lol. i love this fic with my whole heart tho.

i haven’t seen many vampire fics that really explore the whole “doesn’t show up in mirrors/photos” concept (shout em out if you know em) and...there’s probably a reason for that, this shit is hard af to write and there are some logic issues but whatever 🤪

(the beginning quote is from “criminal,” stan taemin!!)

The moment I fall for you is the end of my innocence

—

He sits in the same coffee shop everyday, like it’s a habit he just can’t break. But who are you to judge? You’re there, too. Watching him like a creep. Or maybe like an interested coffee shop patron, trying to be discreet and failing at it.

He wasn’t hard to notice. You’d never been to this coffee shop before, but your friend recommended it to you mostly for their in-house-made pastries; she claimed the coffee was good, too, but she wasn’t much of a caffeine person. You decided to give it a try when you had time between classes and a moment to breathe, not needing to talk to this advisor or that professor.

You saw him immediately when you walked past the shop window. He was sitting at a table near the front, staring down at his phone with a small cup of coffee sitting in front of him. Its miniscule size was almost comical in contrast to his...everything. He was tall—that much was obvious even with him sitting down—and imposing, wearing all black. His hair was equally pitch-black, his bangs hanging to one side and the rest shaved in an undercut. If you didn’t know much better, you’d think you’d stepped back into 2007 and landed dead in the middle of the emo craze.

He was interesting to look at. Not in a bad way, but in a way you don’t see very often. Deciding to walk in before you made yourself look totally weird staring at him through the window, you’d stepped into the coffee shop, the small bell dinging above your head. A barista greeted you at your entrance. Out of the corner of your eye you saw the man, to your left, still looking at his phone.

You’d given your order and waited for it to be ready before taking it to a table on the other side of the shop. From that vantage point, you had a good view of the man. You tried to keep your eyes on your food and your phone, not wanting to spend the whole time looking at him, but it was a little hard not to.

When you took a bite of your pastry, you quickly discovered it was just as delicious as your friend promised—probably even more so. You made a noise of approval before you could catch yourself, and you glanced around the shop in embarrassment to see if anyone nearby noticed. Didn’t seem like it, at first. But then you glanced over to the man again only to find him looking at you below his eyelashes with a small, amused smile on his lips. He only kept his gaze on you for a second before returning to his phone.

What? You hadn’t thought you were that loud. How did he hear you from over there, and above the noise of the café? Even now, you remember how embarrassed you’d felt, ducking your head and looking away.

The man finished his coffee not long after that; he slipped his phone into his pocket and stood up. You glanced up only momentarily when he stood, but your eyes soon slid back to his form when you noticed something odd. On the wall behind him, there was a big oval mirror sitting pretty in its elaborate silver frame. He stood just a few feet in front of it, yet there was no reflection of him. The only thing you could see was the other side of the café reflected back, with another man sitting alone at a booth enjoying his own coffee. The tall man’s reflection was nowhere to be found.

That was when you figured he must be a vampire.

You’d never met one before. At least, you didn’t think you had until then.

Unbeknownst to you, vampires are notoriously able to blend in more easily than most other supernatural beings—until faced with situations like that one in the coffee shop. Ultimately, there’s no faking a reflection no matter how hard you try to remain inconspicuous.

The man had caught your eye again. Thinking back on it, you aren’t sure of what expression you had on your face or what it must’ve looked like to him. It must’ve been something akin to surprise, though; you weren’t quick enough to disguise your reaction at his lack of a reflection.

He gave you another smile, though it felt sadder than the previous one, and walked out of the store, the small bell on the door ringing at his departure. He disappeared down the street in a swirl of black fabric, almost like something out of a movie, and you watched him retreat until you could see him no more.

You scraped your index fingernail over the wood table your food was resting on, your mind whirring with all kinds of thoughts. Your interest was piqued. And yet there was no way for you to know if you’d see him again.

—

At least, that’s what you believed then. Luckily for you, your subsequent visits to the coffee shop have proven fruitful; the strange, tall vampire is there more often than not, always in the same spot in front of that same mirror. Sometimes he reads a book, other times he looks at his phone, and other times still, he stares out the window at the passersby.

He acknowledges you whenever he sees you, either with a nod or a smile. You’ve never spoken to each other, though you know what his voice sounds like from hearing him talk to the baristas. It’s a nice voice, rich and handsome like him, and you find yourself gradually wanting to hear it spoken in your direction. But you aren’t sure how to talk to him, or what you should say.

There’s a lot you want to know about him and his vampirism, but you don’t think it’s fair to bombard him with questions right after meeting him—if you could somehow work up the nerve for that first step.

When you were young, your parents made sure to keep you safely sheltered away from anyone who could potentially be a vampire or any other nonhuman being. This game kept up until you went to college, where they could no longer “shield” you. Because of their lifelong fear and disgust, your knowledge of nonhuman beings is scarce and mostly inaccurate.

The man’s skin isn’t deathly pale like you’ve heard others say vampires always are. It’s nicely tanned, in fact. Nor are his eyes red, or his canine teeth abnormally sharp. And obviously, he has no aversion to sunlight, otherwise he wouldn’t be out here during the day. The only visible marker of his inhuman nature is his lack of a reflection. Maybe he’s not a vampire at all? Maybe he’s another type of being entirely. That only makes you more curious.

It’s not rare to come across supernatural beings, but they only make themselves known if they want to, or if it’s imperative to their survival. Most of them would rather quietly assimilate amongst humans or stay safe and hidden within their own communities. Humans are still too judgmental towards those who are different from themselves for nonhumans to feel truly safe or welcomed—at least not on a global scale. Small pockets of communities forged with human allies are helpful and sometimes vital for survival, but not always enough.

These small tidbits of information cycle through your mind as September gradually bleeds into October. You continue watching the thoughtful man in the coffee shop and making up your own secret theories about his life. You haven’t told anyone from school about this, because you already know the reaction would be nothing short of awful. Your parents would only let you go to school at the one university in the city that explicitly didn’t allow supernatural beings; it goes without saying that your classmates don’t view them in a positive light.

Part of you feels like you might be breaking the unspoken rules just by being at this coffee shop all the time and allowing this man to take up space in your mind. But who will know what’s inside your thoughts except you?

One day, your friend decides to accompany you on your lunch break, finally stopping by the café she recommended to you. The man is already there, as usual, and he smiles slightly when you and your friend enter. She doesn’t catch this, too busy wondering what she’s going to get off the menu today.

“I haven’t been here in forever, I wonder if Sam still remembers me?” You know Sam to be one of the baristas there, having read it on their name tag before.

“I doubt there are very many people who’d forget you,” you answer.

When you both have your food, you take a booth farther away from where the man sits, though you can still see him easily from this distance. Your friend settles into the seat in front of you.

You try to keep things inconspicuous throughout your conversation, but you must glance over at him one too many times, because your friend eventually raises her eyebrows questioningly. She turns around in her seat, making it obvious that she’s looking, and you groan as you keep your eyes in the opposite direction towards the window.

“Who’s that guy you keep staring at?”

You cough. “No one.”

“He’s obviously someone. Someone interesting enough to hold your attention.”

“I don’t know the man,” you say curtly. You shuffle your napkin and spoon aimlessly, your nervousness rising. What if he has some kind of enhanced hearing and can hear what you’re saying right now? He definitely heard you make that noise that first day.

Your friend looks at the ceiling and blows air out of her mouth. “Whatever. I’ll find out who he is sooner or later.”

You take a sip of your drink and lower your voice to just above a whisper. Although you want to leave the subject alone, you’re curious about one thing. “You mean you’ve never seen him before? This café was your hangout spot before it was mine.”

She shrugs. “No, I think I would’ve remembered someone as...visually striking as him. Why are we whispering, anyway? It’s not like he can hear us above all this noise.”

You think to yourself, I’m not so sure about that, but you merely shake your head.

You spend a few more minutes talking before movement catches the corner of your eye. At this point, it’s practically a reflex for you to look in that direction. You try not to, but your friend has already caught you and turns her head to spy, too. The man has gotten up for whatever reason to say something to one of the baristas at the counter. Your gaze darts back to your cup after you’ve gotten your eyeful, but you’re nearly startled into dropping the cup at your friend’s gasp.

Oh. The mirror.

She grips the edge of the table. “He’s a vampire…?”

You don’t know what to say to that, and you feel oddly guilty for some reason you can’t pinpoint. Like you’ve been caught with your hand in the cookie jar. “U-um, I don’t know…?” You can hardly finish your thought before your friend is scrambling to grab her purse. She hurriedly stands out of the seat, tugging your arm as she does.

“Come on. We shouldn’t stay here.”

“Are you serious—?” You feel embarrassed heat rip through your body at her display; some other café-goers are already looking at her curiously, probably wondering what the hell she’s doing. She tugs more incessantly, and you already know she’ll get louder if you don’t get up now and defuse the situation. Leaving your half-full cup behind, you grab your things and follow her out of the store, keeping your eyes firmly on her back as you pass by the man. You don’t know if he looked up, or if he could sense the reason for your sudden departure—you’ve never left the shop before him until now—and you don’t want to know.

Neither of you talk until you’re well down the street and around the corner. “That wasn’t necessary,” you huff, your hands still sweating from the spiked adrenaline at suddenly being rushed out.

“Yes it was! We all know bloodsuckers and all these other weirdos are dangerous...even if they think they’re being well-intentioned by living among humans. I hope you don’t go back there.”

“Whatever...you’re the one who told me to visit the café,” you mumble, unable to muster up the energy to say anything more. You both know very well she can’t tell you where to go, but you hope she doesn’t mention this to your other acquaintances on campus and make it into a bigger deal than it is.

When you part ways with your friend and get back to your dorm, you realize you’re missing your planner. The planner with all your upcoming assignment dates in it. You sigh heavily and roll your eyes, knowing it must’ve happened in the chaos of her pulling you out of the shop. Maybe if you’re really lucky, it’ll still be there, picked up by an employee or simply left untouched. Knowing how many people go through that café in a day, you’re not optimistic.

For the first time since visiting the quaint little shop, you’re not anticipating returning and seeing the man again, afraid he’ll ignore you or look at you with distaste—like you’re just another unsympathetic human. And would he be wrong to think that? You’re only strangers to each other.

You try not to dwell on it too hard when you go to bed that night.

When lunch rolls around the next day, you hesitate a couple times on your way to the café, not wanting to show up. However, the desire to see what became of your planner pushes you forward. You don’t even have to stay; if it’s there, you’ll take it and leave. If it’s not—oh well. You can still leave. It’s not hard to buy another.

He’s there when you arrive, of course.

He nods at you when you step inside, though he doesn’t smile as he’s become accustomed to doing. You nod back, but you can’t ignore the renewed rush of embarrassment you feel. You linger at the entrance for a second longer, wondering if maybe you should say something. Apologize, even? But what if he really didn’t know what was going on yesterday? Then how odd would you look for bringing it up?

You decide to move on and go back to the booth to search for your belongings, but his voice stops you. This takes you by surprise.

“Did you come back for this?”

You turn to him to see him holding your planner in his hand. You stare, momentarily dumbfounded, and almost shake your head before realizing it is yours. Definitely the same sticker-covered, scribbled-all-over planner.

“Oh—y-yeah. Thank you.” He passes it to you, though you notice he’s very careful not to let your hands touch. You’re a little perplexed about why, but then the rumors about vampires having cold skin pop up in your mind. Maybe that’s actually true, too. “I usually don’t lose things so easily, but…” Your voice falters, and you don’t know how to finish that sentence without bringing up the other day’s events.

He doesn’t seem to mind as he replies, “It happens to all of us sometimes...I don’t know what I’d do if I lost my camera.”

“You take pictures?” you ask, a tinge of curiosity in your voice.

He nods. “I take photos of anything that interests me. Which often ends up being everything I see. I work at an art museum, so I guess having an eye for photography comes in handy.” He hesitates for a second, then says, “I could show you some?” He waves his phone, indicating that the photos are there.

“Oh, sure.” The man gestures for you to sit down in the empty chair in front of him, and you do so. He swipes through his phone a few times until he settles on what he’s searching for, then puts the device on the table and slides it to you. You lean forward to look at it and see that it displays an album full of pictures, simply titled with the emoji “🌌.”

“It’s okay, you can pick it up.” He chuckles. You pick up the phone and swipe through the numerous pictures. Many of them are nighttime shots of the moon, trees, half-empty streets, darkened storefronts. Others depict nature scenes at sunset or the beginning of sunrise, with the sky colored in darker hues. No matter what the subject matter is, they all look to be professionally taken, even for an iPhone.

“Wow, these are nice. You said you work at a museum…are you a professional photographer, too?”

The man shrugs, and as you look at his slight grin, you realize you still don’t know his name. “Something like that, I guess.”

“You should be if you aren’t already,” you say, looking through more photos. “I’m sure you’d make a lot of money.” When you reach the end of the album, you go to hand the phone back to him but realize he’ll probably want to avoid contact again, so you slide it across the table. He takes it and slips it into his pocket.

“I don’t really care about the money,” he responds. “I just like it because…” He trails off, unsure how to convey his thoughts, wondering if he should even get that personal with a stranger. “It...helps me pass the time.” He’s not quite satisfied by that answer—it doesn’t feel like enough—but it’s all he can think of on the spot.

“Well, that’s nice too. It’s always good to have a hobby just for the sake of it...not for anyone’s benefit but your own.”

“Do you have one?” He takes a sip of his coffee. You don’t expect to be asked about your own interests, and your mind goes blank as you try to think. Why does this always happen when I’m asked these kinds of questions?

“Um, just different things here and there.”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” he says, amused.

“It’s not that, I just don’t have a ton of hobbies or anything. I’m kinda boring, so…” And wasn’t allowed to do much of anything until I left home.

“Being boring isn’t always a bad thing.”

You lean back in your seat, shrugging slightly. “Maybe if you see it that way. My friends don’t.”

“Would one of those happen to be the same one who dragged you out of here yesterday?” He speaks casually, putting his cheek in his hand. You slump further down in your seat, feeling exposed. Of course there was no escaping this topic. He notices your mood shift and shakes his head. “You don’t have to feel so bad about it. It’s not the first time and it won’t be the last.”

“I’m sorry for all that mess,” you murmur, unable to meet his eyes. “Really, I am.” You stand up from the seat, gripping your planner. “Thanks again for this. I don’t want to take up any more of your time today.” You’re about to turn to leave when he speaks again.

“You don’t have to be afraid of me, you know…you could talk with me whenever you feel like it.” That’s the last thing you expect him to say. His voice takes on a quality that’s...not what you’d call begging, but it’s clear he’d enjoy some company. Maybe he’s doing this for your benefit as well as his own, because it’s obvious how your eyes always stray to his little corner.

You nod, giving him an apprehensive smile. “I’ll keep that in mind, then.”

The rest of your day after that is uneventful, full of classes and unexciting lectures, but you keep thinking of one thing. Though he appears to enjoy his time in the coffee shop, how lonely must he really be? There’s never anyone else around him. His eyes when he’d spoken to you held a certain sadness.

And you still didn’t get his name.

You don’t see him for the next few days, mostly because you aren’t at the café. You’ve gotten busy with a new project and haven’t had as much time to return to the coffee shop, mostly spending your time in the library instead.

When you finally get a chance to buy lunch outside campus, he’s not there. This disappoints you more than you thought it would, and you wonder what his absence means. Did he just decide not to come today, or has he found another place to frequent? You kind of hope the second option isn’t the case, though you also don’t know why you’re even caring this much about where someone else goes on their own time.

You get a drink to-go this time, deciding you’ll just take it back to the library and continue your studies there. The entryway bell rings behind you as you wait for your order to be made, though you don’t pay it much attention; half of your mind is still occupied with what you need to do next for your project.

When you turn around to leave the shop with your drink, you’re surprised to see the man standing there, waiting to get his own coffee. “You’re late,” you blurt out. You immediately feel silly for saying it, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

He gives you a slight smile. “Yes, I am.” Then he spots your to-go cup. “Are you leaving?”

“Uh, well,” you glance at your drink, “are you staying?”

He nods as he steps up to the counter. “Yeah, I’m staying. My offer’s still open, by the way.”

Right. The offer to talk to him sometimes. You’re tempted to stay awhile and talk to him now, though you don’t even know what about. Your project? That’s boring. Him being a vampire? Too invasive. Your school? Also boring, and probably not the best idea considering which one you attend.

“I...think I’ll stay, then.”

You both sit at his usual table, with you grinning nervously.

“How are you? I noticed you hadn’t showed up in a while,” he asks, settling back in his chair.

“Yeah, I’m doing fine, I’m just busy with school stuff. These teachers don’t give us a break.” You laugh a little, shaking your head.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He grins. “I never did go to college, but I’ve always heard others talk about how tiring it is. And expensive.”

“They’re right.” You roll your eyes at the thought of it. “But I guess it’ll all be worth it in the end. Maybe. If the economy isn’t in the toilet.” The sound of his laughter is nice, and you’re glad you could make him laugh. “Also, I’m sorry—I don’t know how this flew under the radar, but I don’t know your name.”

He shrugs. “Nothing to apologize for, really. It’s Johnny.”

You tell him your name, too. “Since I haven’t seen you lately...how are you doing?” You circle your hands around your to-go cup, feeling its warmth transfer to your palms as you await his answer.

“I think I can say I’m the same as always—which is fine. Life slows down a little when you have a lot of time on your hands.” Johnny’s lips quirk up at that, and you think he might be referring to his vampirism. Your eyes widen a little.

“What’s that like? Having so much free time. I wouldn’t know much about that right now, but…”

“Maybe not as pleasant as you think it’d be. But there’s good in it. Like coming and going when you want to. And you can take up whatever interests you want without worrying as much about busy schedules.” You already know he’s alluding to his photography. “I do like having a job, though…it gives me structure.”

“You’re probably right…I wouldn’t know the first thing to do if I had a ton of free time…like, which hobbies to pick up first.” You consider how you initially thought about him being lonely and wonder if that’s one of the unpleasant parts he hinted to. “Speaking of hobbies...did you take any new pictures lately?”

Johnny nods. “Most of them were on my camera this time, but some are on my phone. You want to see?”

“Yes!”

Johnny lets you have his phone again to look through the newest pictures he’s taken. There are varying shots of car-lined streets and storefronts, some of the latter decorated with glowing jack-o-lanterns for the onset of October. A pigeon sits on a streetlamp during the daytime, holding its head up like royalty upon a throne. In another image, a stray cat and her kittens huddle in an alley, the babies grooming each other while the mother looks quizzically at the camera.

You recognize a few photos from the nearby park; he also had some pictures of it the last time you looked. “Do you go to this park often?”

“Yeah, it offers some great shots. It’s especially pretty if you go just before the sun sets...the light filters through the tree leaves and it looks kinda like a kaleidoscope.”

“Ah, I’ve never seen that before…” you say a little sadly. Your parents didn’t much like taking you to that park when you were younger because of how far it is from their house. And since living away from them, you’ve only been able to visit it during the early hours of the day—like now.

Johnny looks closely at you. “Would you ever want to?”

“If it’s as pretty as you say, I should.” You slide the phone back across the table to him, not catching what he’s trying to hint at as you keep talking. “Do you go anywhere else besides here and the park?” As soon as you say it, you realize this might sound a little rude and try to make a quick save. “I mean, do you have any other favorite places? I’m not trying to say you don’t have a life or anything!”

Johnny laughs at your slight panic at thinking you’ve offended him. “Nothing too out-there, I guess. The bookstore, the photography store, the theater. Pretty much all the same places others visit.”

“The movies are fun.” You trace your finger across the table’s surface, thinking of your own favorite spots. “Me and my friends like to go downtown. There are a lot of cute little shops down there…”

You and Johnny talk for a while longer, and you almost forget you have to get back to campus until you glance at the wall clock. “Oh no, I’m gonna be late.” Flustered, you jump out of your seat and crumple your empty cup. “Sorry to cut it short, Johnny, but I gotta go back now.”

He smiles good-naturedly and nods, his dark bangs sweeping his face. “I understand.” As he watches you gather your things and get ready to go, he speaks up again. “Actually, if you want to see the park at sunset sometime...I could show you? It’s up to you.”

You pause, suddenly curious at the thought of seeing him outside the café. In the back of your mind, you feel a little paranoid and afraid of your friend or maybe even your parents seeing you there with him, though the latter is extremely unlikely. It’s hard to shake that familiar fear of judgment and ostracism when it’s been ingrained in you since childhood. “That sounds good. If it’s not any trouble for you…?”

“Never too much trouble. I usually get off around 4 on Fridays, just before the sun sets at 5. Unless the weekend is better for you?”

You nod, holding your books tighter to your chest. “Friday will work for me! I’ll meet up with you then.”

Johnny smiles. “Great; I’ll see you then, kind stranger.”

Maybe he says it to be joking or quirky, to sound like one of those characters in a movie or drama, but it makes you smile. Nodding to him again, you step out of the café and rush towards the direction of your school. Johnny watches as you retreat, your roles reversed.

You meet up with Johnny at the park that Friday, just as you both agreed. You spot him sitting on a bench near the park entrance, waiting on your arrival.

Johnny’s wardrobe is still mostly dark, but it’s a little lighter than usual today. He’s changed things up with a white polo shirt underneath his black sweater. Seeing him dressed like this, you wonder what he’d be like as a student, or maybe even a university professor.

He stands up when you get closer, hearing the sound of your footsteps approaching and turning towards you. His camera sits safely around his neck, the lens catching in the light of the sun.

When you stop in front of him, he smiles at you warmly. You try to relax into the genuineness of that smile and ignore the still-lingering traces of anxiety about being out with him. “Hi, Johnny!”

“Hi, Y/N.”

You and Johnny walk around the park as he looks for something interesting to shoot. He snaps a few shots of the trees, fallen leaves, bushes, and other natural elements along the way, though it seems like he hasn’t quite captured what he wants yet.

“Are you looking for something specific?” you ask, peering at his camera as he holds it in his hands.

“There’s an aster bush around here,” he responds. “It hadn’t fully bloomed yet the last time I was here, but it should be open by now.”

It turns out he’s right as you two finally come up on the bush. Its blooms make bright purple smudges against the rest of the landscape, which is a monochrome red-and-orange palette from the leaves changing their hues. You watch as he comes up to the bush carefully and quietly, like it’s a small animal he’s afraid to scare away. Johnny is very attentive while taking pictures of it, always conscious of getting the correct lighting and securing the exact angles he wants to capture. “Compassionate” is not a word you’d usually associate with the act of taking photos, but that’s the only word you can currently think of to describe this display. He treats the flowers with a peculiar sense of respect, as if they’re a human subject.

After he’s gotten the images he wants, Johnny offers you his camera to take a few of your own. You’re anxious about holding his prized possession and are afraid you’ll find a way to mess something up, but he promises you it’s fine. You take a few shots of the sky, still with a few wisps of clouds left, and a nearby tree that’s almost stripped bare of leaves. You know the shots will probably end up blurry from your unsteady hands, but Johnny tells you you’ve done a good job anyway.

Something about getting his approval makes a pleasant warmth settle in your chest.

As you both walk down a long trail, you finally ask him, “Sorry if this is invasive, but I was wondering how old are you? Like...as a vampire.” Your voice becomes hesitant on the word vampire, even though you’re the only two in this part of the park.

He chuckles a bit. “I’m 85.” You try not to look surprised. “I’ve been turned for 60 years. Old, but probably a little younger than most vampires you’d think of.”

“Kinda,” you say quietly. “They’re always like 2,000 years old in movies.”

“The ancient vampires are purebloods. They keep to themselves and avoid mingling with turned vampires, let alone humans. Some people are even skeptical if they exist. Supposedly, they use humans as servants or blood banks.” He gives you an apologetic look after saying this, though you don’t really know why. You don’t get the feeling he’d do that to another being, but he is still mostly a stranger... “At least, that’s what my mentor told me.”

Your curiosity is roused at all this new knowledge. “You had a mentor?”

“An older woman. She was also a turned vampire.”

“Turned, huh…”

Johnny nods, toeing at a small pile of leaves on the ground. “She went away eventually, said people are meant to pass in and out of each other’s lives. I don’t think she ever had intentions to stay. But I enjoyed her company while she was there.” Johnny stops at a short bridge above a small manmade lake, and you both look down into the water.

You place your arms on the bridge railing so you can lean over more. You notice he doesn’t have a reflection in the water, and this startles you more than you expected. Before meeting this strange man, you’d never thought much before about why vampires don’t have mirror reflections, but it seems even more unnatural to see this phenomenon happen again in the lake.

You find yourself looking at the side of Johnny’s face, trying to read his expression as he peers into the water’s depths. He turns to you, and you flinch at being caught staring, but he only smiles slightly. You force yourself to form words and break the silence. “What—what did you do after she left?”

“Lived on my own. She taught me a lot of things to help me live independently as a vampire, so it wasn’t too difficult to get along without her...but emotionally? A different story.”

“You sound like you had a very close relationship with her.”

“Yes. Quite close…” Johnny’s tone suggests something deeper, more intimate than a regular friendship. You feel a bit astounded at the idea of him having an older, more worldly lover while being only a newly changed vampire. Your reaction makes you feel foolish, inexperienced. Still, you can’t help imagining a scenario of them living in a big, dark mansion somewhere in the mountains, rolling around in a bed with bloody red sheets—and maybe drinking from the occasional naïve, misled human hiker.

Strangely, too, you feel jealous at his freedom, his ability to go wherever and do whatever with whoever he wants without overbearing relatives always just a step away.

You continue staring at the ripples as they circle in and out of the water’s surface, the motions triggered by a small orange leaf falling into the lake. You’re unsure of what could be the right thing to say to his admission, so you blurt out whatever comes to mind next. “You said she taught you to live independently as a vampire. What does that mean? How do you get...you know. Blood?”

“There are ways,” Johnny says cryptically, which makes your own blood rush faster. He turns to you with a grin, like he finds your naivety endearing. “It’s nothing drastic, though. At least, not for me. I never drink directly.” It does make sense that there are other ways to drink human blood without taking it straight from their necks, though you can only speculate on which methods he prefers. “Drinking directly is lethal, and often not worth it.”

“So, it’s true that vampire bites can kill?” You watch as Johnny pushes himself off the railing, and you follow him as he continues down the trail.

“It’s not false. But it’s never really that simple.” Johnny’s answer is mysterious, and he doesn’t elaborate further. He turns to you. “Where did you hear that, anyway? Your university? The one that bans all nonhuman beings?”

“You know where I go to school?” You feel embarrassed, thinking he must assume you’re like the rest of the student body who hates nonhumans but still nurtures an odd obsession with them.

“I saw it on your notebook one day, the school insignia. I’m not a stalker, by the way.” You laugh only slightly, and Johnny seems crestfallen when he notices your apprehension. “I don’t care if you attend school there. Just because you do doesn’t mean you think the way they do.”

“You must think I’m some weird opportunist, then,” you mutter, heat finding its way to your face. “Asking you all these questions...I’m sorry.”

“I don’t think anything except that you’re a pleasant person to be around.”

You’re quiet for a moment, letting the compliment sink in. You think you should probably give him one of his own, but before you can, he says, “Look. The sun’s already setting.” Just like he told you before, the dying rays filter through the tree leaves and create impossibly intricate patterns on your surroundings. You hold your hand out and watch the latticework that the leaves create dance over your open palm.

You let Johnny take a picture of your hand with the tree shadows flitting over it, but you shy away from the camera’s lens when he points it higher to your face, a questioning look in his eyes. “Maybe some other day.”

You walk around for a while longer until the sky bleeds into a dark purple. “I guess I should be going soon. It’s getting late,” you say, though you’re also a bit sad over your evening with Johnny meeting its end.

“Do you want me to take you back to campus? You shouldn’t walk back alone. My car is just in the parking lot there.” He points to it where it sits in the distance.

You look at Johnny with a confused gaze. “But you can’t come on campus. They have...things to ward off vampires.” Like gates made of pure silver, displaying intimidating, elaborately designed crosses. You don’t know if any of it actually works, but it’s probably better not to find out.

Johnny doesn’t seem bothered by this information. “Yeah…I know. I can just drop you at the street across from the main gate.”

You hesitate a moment longer but eventually agree. He is right; you’d rather not walk alone at night, and getting a ride with him is better—and cheaper—than calling for a rideshare.

The ride to the college is fairly quiet, with the radio filling the silence. It’s not an awkward type of stillness, at least, which you’re grateful for.

As he said he would, Johnny parks on the side of the street that sits in front of the main gate, just outside the immediate vicinity of the campus. The metal crosses stare back at the both of you, glinting in the light of nearby streetlamps. You turn your face away from them, biting the inside of your cheek.

You unbuckle your seatbelt. “Thanks again for the ride. I guess I’ll see you back at the shop next week, yeah?” Again, you get the urge to say something, anything, to remedy or cover up the foreboding source of discomfort sitting just in front of you, but there’s no one sentence you could say to wipe away decades of hatred.

Johnny nods and smiles, and still he shows no signs of being disturbed. He doesn’t cast another glance at the gates. “It’s no problem. See you then.”

You get out of his car and cross the street to get inside the gate; it’s early enough in the evening for it to still be open. Any later, and it’d be locked shut to even humans. You risk another wave at him before turning back around and heading for your dorm, which sits a few yards from the entrance. Johnny lets the car idle on the side of the street until you’ve walked into the dorm, and only then does he drive away.

It doesn’t take very long for you to warm up to Johnny inviting you to other places. The next time you and him go somewhere other than the coffee shop, you accompany him as he buys some film for his camera on one of his free days. You don’t know a ton about photography, so you’re more than happy to let him tell you all about how film works and why he buys certain kinds over others.

The place he frequents is a specialty photography shop that still carries older varieties of film—ones that fell out of favor once digital cameras became a thing. The store looks noticeably old, but not in an unkempt or decrepit way. You can tell it’s been around for a while, holding all kinds of history in its structure.

“There are so many different types.” You look over a shelf of film rolls in awe. “How can you tell them all apart?”

Johnny laughs. “It gets easier if you’ve been doing it for a while…or a few decades.” He picks one up from a row of them and holds it in front of you. “35mm is the most common type, which is what you’ll find the most of when you look through any film shop. That’s what I use.”

He sets that one down and walks past another display of film rolls, gesturing toward them. “There’s also 120 and 220 film formats here…those work for even older cameras, sorta like ones you’d see in 1930s movies. You can even turn a film camera into a digital camera.”

You nod to his words, looking over what seems like millions of film canisters—and occasionally glancing at the lines of his broad back as he walks ahead of you. “You should teach a photography class. I’d be more willing to listen to you than some old professor.”

Johnny snickers. “Huh, I don’t know. Not a professor, but I am old.”

You both continue walking through the store, with Johnny giving you the rundown on every item that catches your interest.

Like the coffee shop, there’s another mirror in this store. Many more, actually—there are whole rows of them on a series of shelves, all in varying sizes and shapes. They create a fragmented view of your form as you stand in front of them, though you don’t initially realize you’ve crossed into their glassy line of sight. You’re busier with looking at a roll of film Johnny’s handed you. When you notice your reflection shifting in your peripheral view, you look up.

Johnny’s only a few feet behind you, and you know this because you can hear him and feel his presence. Yet, it’s strange to see yourself as the only person in the aisle.

Eventually, he notices what’s got you preoccupied and comes to stand next to you. Though you see him clearly in front of your eyes, there’s no trace of him in the glass reflections.

Suddenly, you’re hit with the aching loneliness of it—how it must feel to never see yourself. You can see him with your own eyes, and so can everyone else who encounters him, but what must it be like to be virtually invisible outside of other peoples’ perceptions of you? You almost feel utterly alone even though you know he’s beside you.

Noticing your sudden melancholy, Johnny takes the film roll from your hand and tosses it up in the air, making it look like it’s moving on its own in the mirrors. He means to lighten the mood, if only to see the cloudiness disappear from your expression. It works to a degree, though you still feel downcast deep below.

“It’s not good to dwell on it.” Johnny presses the film roll back into your hand, still carefully avoiding skin contact. He has no problem meeting your eyes, though, and you shyly look away from his dark gaze after a few prolonged moments.

“You’re right,” you say softly, turning back to the aisle and away from the rows of mirrors.

—

You and Johnny head to the coffee shop after your trip to the photography store. Once you get your drinks and sit down in your usual spot, he speaks suddenly. “Something’s wrong.”

Your eyes dart around the shop, thinking he’s referring to one of the patrons around you. “What? What’s wrong?” Your voice comes out a bit panicked. He doesn’t want to laugh, but he does.

“No, I mean...something’s wrong with you. You seem far away.”

“Oh…” You wonder if you should even bring it up and potentially ruin the mood. But you have been curious for weeks now, and you don’t think you’ll get a trustworthy answer by asking anyone other than him. “I just...I was wondering why you don’t have a reflection. I know it’s a vampire thing, but I’ve never really known why...you don’t need to answer, though. Like you said, it’s not good to dwell on it.”

Johnny makes a motion like a half-nod once your question is revealed, his eyes darting to the window and back to the table. His fingers trace across the rim of his coffee cup, a thoughtful but stormy expression on his face, and you’re afraid you shouldn’t have reawakened this topic. “You know...being undead means being in two places at once.”

“Two places?”

“We are caught between the living world and the world of the dead. Something that’s not really supposed to exist, yet…” He’s quiet for a moment. “You can only imagine the kind of issues and side effects that can cause. One of them being no reflection.”

“I never thought of it like that,” you say. “Two planes of existence...what does it mean to be a part of the world of the dead?”

“Our blood runs slower. Ours is more like sludge compared to yours. The heart beats only a few times per minute. Don’t need to eat or sleep, either, though many vampires still do.” Johnny pauses. “How much do you really know about vampires?”

“I don’t know much about any of this...stuff.” You gesture vaguely, meaning all supernatural beings and not just vampires. “No one ever told me these things growing up, and it’s hard to tell truth from fiction at school. People will say anything, horrible things, and you just take it at face value, I guess. I never really thought to try to find the reality.” You sigh. “Sometimes I feel like I’m the only person in the world who doesn’t know anything.”

“Learning is good. You can always learn. I don’t think it’s too late for that.” Johnny’s voice is a little lighter. “Anyway, everyone’s knowledge is different. Sometimes it slips my mind that everyone doesn’t know what it’s like to live as a vampire, though the world never lets me forget for long.”

“Then…do you hang out with other vampires who do understand? Or…maybe humans who can sympathize?”

Johnny gives a humorless laugh. “Most humans are hesitant to interact with us, if not full-out terrified or disgusted. At the museum...it’s less pronounced because all the employees already know. They…tolerate it. But every time someone else realizes what I am and doesn’t take well to it?” He shakes his head, acts like he’ll say something else, and then abandons that line of thought. “And do you really think I’d want to spend my free time around other bloodsuckers?” He tries to play it off as a joke, but you’re more inclined to think he actually feels that way. You can only nod, feeling bad for him but also a little disturbed by his view of his own kind.

“I think you’re a kind person, and you being a vampire doesn’t affect that,” you say hesitantly. “I like talking to you. And even if you feel that way about other vampires, I…wish you wouldn’t feel that about yourself.”

Johnny remains quiet, but he nods. You wonder about the struggle occurring in his mind. The only outward hint of his uneasy state shows in the furrow of his eyebrows and the tense set of his mouth. With his right hand resting on the table, he rubs his fingers together absentmindedly, like he’s analyzing your words. You have a sudden and startling desire to hold his hand, to twine your fingers together and feel his skin on yours for the first time, but you don’t dare cross that boundary.

He finally replies with, “You’re much kinder to me, an old and bitter vampire, than you probably should be. But maybe that’s a good thing about you.”

“I think it’s a good thing,” you agree, your voice low. “Every living being needs companionship. Good companionship, anyway.”

The corners of Johnny’s lips shift in something reminiscent of a smile. He turns a rueful gaze once again to the window, lifting his coffee cup to his lips. “Aren’t I lucky to have yours, then.”

On a day when you don’t have as many responsibilities to juggle, you visit Johnny at the art museum after his working hours are up. He’d already invited you to come to the museum any day you felt like so he could show you around. 

When you get there, he’s waiting in the visitor’s lobby for you, framed by receding sunlight as the day starts fading into night. He looks the same as he always does when you see him in the café on his lunch breaks, but within the context of the museum, he suddenly seems more…alive? Vibrant? He could’ve served as a muse for one of the many statuesque, perfectly proportional sculptures in the museum, and you’d never know anything different.

Your heartbeat increases at the sight of him, just enough to be outside the normal range.

“Hi, Johnny. I hope your day went well?”

“It was fine, nothing too crazy. But it’s better now.” And he smiles at you, sincere enough to make your heart ache.

“Oh—that’s great.” That’s it? You scold yourself internally, but you aren’t quick enough to think up a witty reply to his comment before the topic shifts.

“Is there anything in particular you wanna see first?” Johnny asks, leading you further into the museum.

“I guess I hadn’t thought too deeply about that…do you have a favorite exhibit? I want to see what you like.”

Johnny smiles faintly. “Let’s see, then.”

The dark-haired man takes you to a section of the museum filled with oil paintings, all by one singular artist. At first, all you see is varying shades of black and gray and red, with some white splashed in between. When you begin looking at the paintings more closely, it’s easier to see that each one depicts a different scene of chaos. Maybe a sort of organized chaos, but disarray all the same.

There is one picture that holds a clearer subject than the rest. One of the oil paintings is of a vampire—obvious by the fangs—with bloodied lips and anguished eyes. You pause when you catch sight of it, your steps stilled by the sheer frenzy in the other being’s painted eyes. Their hands reach out for the viewer as if begging for an escape that can only be provided by whoever’s observing.

“This one was painted by a fellow vampire, you know. The same one who did all the rest of the paintings in this gallery,” Johnny explains. He points at the placard next to the painting that displays the artist’s name and a short description of the piece. The word fellow comes off his tongue wrapped in cynicism. “And it was one of the ones I personally chose for this exhibit.”

You glance at him, a tinge of surprise blooming in your chest. “Really?”

He nods. “Who better to depict the ills of vampirism than a vampire themselves? I thought it was a…fascinating change of pace from all the humans who try and fail to do so, ironic as that is.”

If you look at the painting for long enough, you think you can recognize sadness in the corners of the vampire’s eyes—pure, unadulterated sadness. Different from anguish or panic. A similar mask of sadness you’ve seen on the man next to you.

You say nothing for a while. You simply feel the painful throb of your heart in your chest and listen to the small sounds around you. Even now, there are still other people exploring the museum and walking through this very exhibit, but you can’t hear or see any of them. Johnny notices the disconcerted look on your face, and his forehead creases. “But I’m sure you want to see something less…morbid than this, right? Come on.”

“Uh, I-I don’t mind,” you insist, even though you feel like you’ve just awoken from a painful trance by the sound of his voice. But he’s already gesturing for you to follow him elsewhere.

The next set of paintings you end up in front of are a series of sunflower studies. One frame depicts the long green stems; another provides an up-close view of their lined petals. One zooms in close on the flower’s brown center, only small glimpses of yellow left at the edges of the frame.

“This is definitely very different.” You look at him, a small smile pulling at your lips. “But it fits you. I see why you like it.” You remember him back in the park, taking careful pictures of the aster bush and of your hands…and then offering to take one of you. You don’t know why that last one makes your stomach jump.

“I thought you might like it.” Johnny’s eyes linger on your face as he observes your reaction to the paintings. He’s seen these flowers probably a hundred times by now in this permanent exhibit, but the wonder in your expression is new to him.

—

You both walk through a few more exhibitions after that, all with different subjects and mediums—some consist of sculptures, others are clay vases and figures. There’s still a lot to see in the museum, but you’re starting to get hungry, and you know Johnny has already heard your stomach growling.

After the 2nd time it happens and you think you might melt from embarrassment, he grins at you and makes a suggestion. “Let’s go to my office. I’ll get my things and we can eat. The restaurant here is pretty good—or at least that’s what everyone else says…”

When you get to his office, you feel almost like you’ve stepped into a room from years past. Your gaze drifts across his desk immediately; it’s not sleek and modern like you’d expect, considering the rest of the museum’s aesthetic, but wooden and heavy and vintage-looking. It’s olden quality resembles everything else in his personal space. Even his desk chair, a big and plush thing, feels vintage with its soft leather and rustic design.

This feeling is far from a bad thing, though. You enjoy the aged look of the bookcases, the picture frames, the chairs, the small decorations here and there—everything about this room.

Johnny notices how you look around, studying everything in sight, and smiles. “It’s not the most modern, but I like it.”

“It’s perfect. Like a world of its own.”

“A woman of taste, I see.” Johnny puts a hand over his heart, giving an expression like he’s truly touched, and you can only grin sheepishly. When he has his belongings, he leads you out and locks the door behind him.

“Let’s see what they have on the menu today, then.”

—

You get dinner at the museum’s restaurant, just as Johnny recommended, and he even decides to eat too. Maybe he does it so you won’t look odd being the only one eating, or because he really just wants to; he doesn’t let on. Either way, sitting across from him like this in a fancy restaurant with both of you having a nice meal feels almost like a date. You let that thought amble around for a few minutes longer before tucking it back into one of your mind’s many small niches.

“I’ll probably be digesting this for the next few weeks,” he says jokingly, pulling a mock-disappointed face at his plate.

“That sounds like the worst constipation in history.” He snorts at your comment, his eyes creasing as he laughs. You notice he has a dimple when he smiles, and your grin mirrors his. You don’t think you’ve seen him laugh quite so genuinely before, but now that you’ve experienced it, you want to hear it again and again.

Anything is preferable to the perpetual gloom, always slinking around the corner.

—

When Johnny gets back home after dropping you off at the university, he undresses himself and showers and pulls on his bedclothes, which are nothing more than his underwear and a pair of sweatpants. His upper canines ache in his gums the entire time he goes through these motions, like two pulses of red-hot heat positioned on either side of his mouth.

He takes a blood bag from the fridge and drinks it in bed, leaning his arms against his knees. A sudden remembrance manifests itself in his mind; he hears the hazy echo of his mother’s decades-past voice in his head, reprimanding him for eating in bed. A sharp pain grips his chest, and he tries to send it back to the depths where it belongs.

When the blood hits his stomach, the pain is eclipsed by the bloodlust, which is no better. His fangs drop immediately, spiking into his lower lip. Johnny closes his eyes and, very gingerly, allows himself to draw a picture of you in his mind, of your blood in his mouth and your heartbeat roaring in his ears. The way your blood would flow out so delicately, crashing into his tastebuds like the high tide. He is usually better than this at curtailing his bloodlust, not even letting it reach the point of his canines hurting—he can’t remember the last time that’s happened—but being around you sets him on edge. Awakens him in some strange, raw way.

That only makes him more wary. And more guilty about imagining himself drinking your blood. He shouldn’t even be around you if he’s losing his grip on his hard-won control. But although it makes him feel ashamed, it also causes his heart to rush.

He drains the blood bag to the last possible drop. To his relief, it calms him significantly, though the thoughts of you don’t leave. More innocent ones now, of your outing earlier in the evening. Deep beneath, they are tinged with his ever-present guilt at his vampiric nature.

Johnny doesn’t need the sleep, but he drifts off anyway, if only to quiet the conflict sending daggers into his mind.

You’ve known Johnny for a few weeks now, not counting the time you spent silently staring at him in the café, but you find yourself intertwining yourself further into his life. You end up visiting his apartment sooner than you anticipated. You didn’t think of anything as ridiculous as him living in a coffin or sleeping in the rafters like a bat, but you also had a hard time imagining what his place might look like.

You come over on a weekend when you have more time to simply hang out and not worry so much about anything else.

Like usual, he waits in that spot on the side of the street for you to come out. In the daytime, you’re more apprehensive about him being here and someone potentially seeing him and trying to cause trouble for him, but there’s a part of you that likes the rebellious aspect of it. And if he truly doesn’t mind coming near the campus to pick you up, you don’t have much issue with him doing it.

Johnny’s apartment is clean—and a little sparser than you’d expected. Maybe he’s a fan of minimalism. One side of the wall is taken up by a wide bookcase, which features a bunch of different knickknacks, books, and a collection of larger hardcovers that look like photo albums. On the other walls are a few framed pictures of different scenes, and you assume they’re ones he must’ve taken.

“This is a nice place,” you say as he takes your jacket for you and puts it up. “It must cost quite a bit, too…” You sit down on the couch, stroking the soft material of it.

Johnny shrugs. “Thanks. It’s nothing I can’t handle...being nearly a century old gives you plenty of time to save money.” He appears charmingly self-satisfied when he’s able to make you laugh. “Do you want anything?”

“Water is fine…thank you.” Johnny nods and goes off to the kitchen.

Despite trying to keep your eyes on the wall photos, your gaze follows him as he leaves. You discreetly watch him move around his kitchen. With his dark clothes, he’s like a splash of black paint against the pale tile and stainless steel.

There are blood packs in Johnny’s fridge. Lots of them. You know because you saw them from your vantage point on the couch when he opened the fridge door. They look like the blood bags you’d see in a hospital, which makes you wonder how he even gets access to those. Another mystery you struggle to wrap your head around.

He comes back to the living room with your water, and you take it gratefully, though you also feel a little awkward. You think maybe the blood bags are something you shouldn’t have seen, although you know he probably would’ve made more effort to hide them or put them away if that were the case.

“You have a good supply of blood, a nice apartment, and a great job. Does every vampire get these kinds of perks?” Admittedly, it sounded better in your head. Your attempt to stave off the awkward feeling—which was really only coming from your end—only makes it more intense. Johnny laughs dryly in response. You can’t tell if he actually finds it amusing or is just trying to humor you, which makes you feel incredibly silly.

“All of it’s government-issued if you promise never to bite any humans.” Johnny gives a wry smile. “But it’s a mistake to think vampires live glamorous lives, filling up on blood and having no cares in the world.”

“N-no, I get it,” you stutter. “Bad joke.”

“I’m not trying to embarrass you or be mean. It’s just the way things are.” Your roles are suddenly reversed, and now he seems to feel some sort of sympathy for you, like you’re just an ignorant little human who doesn’t know any better. The last part of that is more your insecurities speaking out than anything else, but you try to ignore that and take him for his word.

Johnny gets up from the couch to go over to the bookcase as you sip your water. After looking through the photo albums intently, he takes one off the shelf and hands it to you. You set your water down and hold the album carefully as you open the front cover. The cover itself has a neat little label that reads Telluride 1976 - 1980, so you can already expect what you’ll find in it. There are numerous photos of trees, bushes, snowy mountain ranges, lakes, brilliantly vibrant flowers, and woodland creatures. You stop at a picture of a deer looking straight ahead, its black eyes wide and curious as it examines the lens.

“I lived in the mountains back then, a little after my mentor had left. I spent some time trying to reconnect with nature...and all that other hippie shit people used to do back in that era.”

You chuckle. “Did you wear the same kinds of clothes, too? Bell bottoms and tie-dye T-shirts and all?”

Johnny laughs and shrugs. “Maybe…but that’s only for me to know.”

You grin and look at the photos again. “Well…did your plan work, at least?”

Johnny gives a wistful smile. “In some ways, I think it did.”

You continue looking through the rest of the album, which you could probably do for hours if you had the time—just sit and trace every possible line, curve, and ray of light. Johnny sits beside you as you do, occasionally explaining some pictures and their backstories.

“Lately, I’ve been wanting something else to take pictures of...someone else, maybe.”

“What, like a subject?” you ask.

“Yeah, it’d be nice...I haven’t taken pictures of another person in a while.”

You nod quietly as you flip through the pages—another possible hint flying right over your head. Then a thought comes to you—one that makes your skin warm. “Have you ever taken pictures of anyone you were...involved with?” You don’t say it directly, but you hope he can get the gist of what you’re asking.

Johnny nods as if he doesn’t want to admit to it, a nervous smile gracing his lips. “A few different people…but I always gave them the pictures after we, you know, stopped seeing each other...so there’s none left here.”

“I see…” For a few moments, your thoughts circle around that concept. What was it like to bare yourself in front of someone else like that, immortalized on film? What might it be like to allow Johnny to see you like that, to take pictures of you in your most vulnerable form? The idea doesn’t make you as downright anxious as you expected it to, though you can’t completely shake the lingering embarrassment about it.

After you finish looking through the entirety of his Telluride adventures, Johnny shows you some recent pictures he’s developed, and you’re giddy to see your own blurry creations among them. Now that you’re holding them physically in your hands, you can agree that they look nice, each with its own little personality.

“I thought about putting them in a new photo album,” he says, “but you can keep them, if you prefer.”

You hold them to your chest. “Yes, I’d like to keep them. Thank you.” You smile. “I’m sure I’ll leave you with plenty other photos to put in your album, anyway.”

—

The sun is close to setting again. You aren’t ready to leave yet, though, and Johnny is content to let you stay longer. He pulls out another album for you to look at, this one dated with 1960 - 1964. Unlike the others, there’s no title to describe what’s in it except for that year range.

“This is a picture of me someone took before I was turned,” Johnny murmurs, sitting back down beside you. He turns the album to you, and in the middle of the first page is a sepia-toned photo of him sitting on a bed—or maybe a couch?—wearing a suit. White, handwritten lettering on the bottom right of the photograph reads August 4, 1960.

“Oh wow...” You touch the photo gently over its protective lining. “You look exactly the same. Of course.”

“It’s the only photo I have left of myself,” he sighs, leaning back on the sofa. “If it weren’t for that...I’d feel almost like I didn’t exist at all.”

“Do you remember this day?” you ask.

“…Vaguely.” His answer doesn’t feel like the whole truth, and the way his eyes dart anxiously as he says it confirms your suspicions. Then he sighs again, heavier this time, and he seems to be exhaling all 60 years of his burden along with it. “I was...going to be married. It was for our wedding shoot.”

You’re surprised for a reason you’re unsure of, never even imagining that Johnny could’ve been married at one point in time. Could’ve had an entire life and a family, if it hadn’t been for...

“I’m sorry, Johnny.” You know you never would’ve met him if things hadn’t happened this way, and that knowledge tugs at your heart in a way that makes you feel intensely selfish.

Johnny shakes his head and avoids your eyes. “It was long ago.” He wets his lips and his jaw clenches like maybe he wants to say something else, but he remains silent for a while.

You continue exploring the photo album in silence. With its thin size, there aren’t as many pictures in it as the others—much less, in fact, but each one is still enough to keep your interest. Your mind keeps drifting back to the one of Johnny.

You hand the album back to him when you’re done. He takes it from you, but in a gesture you don’t foresee, he allows your hands to touch for the first time. You make a tiny flinch at the unexpected coolness—not ice-cold, but enough to be noticeable—but you don’t draw away from him. You let his fingers slide across yours as the photo album leaves your hands, and it sends electricity racing up and down your spine.

“S-sorry.” You’re not sure if you’re apologizing for flinching or for making contact at all, though there is no reason to because he initiated it.

“Doesn’t it ever disturb you at all that I’m not human?” Johnny asks softly, still holding the album.

“What?”

“You’ve taken all this so easily...much more easily than many others. You aren’t even disgusted at my cold hands.” A ghost of a grin comes over his face.

“If I were disgusted, I wouldn’t even be here,” you say, trying to lighten the tension. It’s not the kind of tension that arises from anger, offense, or upset, but something else that you are lost on comprehending in this moment. “Some of it’s unfamiliar, obviously, but I’m not disgusted.”

He glances down at the album in his hands, as if contemplating something. Maybe thinking about the only living photo of himself beneath the cover. Or maybe he’s thinking back to how he was turned in the first place and subsequently lost the life he was about to have. He still hasn’t told you anything about how he became a vampire, and though you’d like to know, it’s obviously a sore spot for him.

Eventually, he nods, willing himself to smile at you. “I’m glad.”

—

Night has fallen by the time you’re done exploring the decades of his life, though there is still much you haven’t seen and don’t yet know. You let him drive you back to the school as you stare out at the passing cars, wondering how many more of these people sitting in their vehicles are nonhuman and you’d never know it.

You hesitate after he pulls up across from the main gate.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Uh, nothing really, it’s just—I still don’t have your number or anything.” And I want to talk to you more often. I want to hear your voice more often. You don’t want to say anything overly dramatic or cheesy, so you just keep those last thoughts to yourself.

Thinking it had been something serious, he smirks at your concern. “Oh, I see. I’ll give it to you now, then.”

Once your numbers are safely in each other’s phones, you finally bid each other goodnight. 

Though you try to steer your thoughts towards other things, you keep veering back to Johnny. His apartment. His fridge full of blood bags. His photo albums full of years of history. Even when you get into bed that night, you can’t keep him off your mind.

You wake up gasping and sweating when you dream of him with his fangs in your neck, your own blood running down your neck and chest. You glance over at your roommate to make sure you haven’t woken her and rest your head on your knees, trying to catch your breath and settle your racing heart. Your skin still prickles with how you could practically feel his heated breaths on your neck, ice-cold hands gripping your shoulders.

The worst part of it is that you can’t quite say you completely disliked it.

“It doesn’t make much sense to have a Halloween party and dress up as the very beings that you hate, but whatever…” you mumble, looking through a rack of costumes with a certain impassivity. You’re not very enthusiastic about going to this Halloween party, but your friend refuses to go alone. You haven’t been spending as much time with her anymore—partly because of Johnny and partly because you feel even more out of place around her than normal—and with all her begging and pleading, she refuses to let you opt out of this one.

“It’s about having fun, no one really cares Y/N. They’re freaks, aren’t they? That’s why people dress up as them, they’re practically meant for this.”

You become even more apprehensive about the party after hearing that, if that’s even possible. You smooth your hand over the fabric of a witch’s robe and sigh again, shaking your head. It doesn’t feel quite right to keep spending time in her presence—or anyone else who goes to your school—but you feel trapped on all sides, left without much of a choice. You would never hear the end of it if you tried to switch universities…or even drop out.

Your mind strays back to Johnny as always, with his melancholy aura and weird jokes and pretty pictures and monochrome clothes. The smell of his cologne, the lingering scent of roasted coffee beans, and his toothy smile, when he does show it to you. Something in you makes you want to drop everything you’re doing right now and go to him. It might even be nice to settle in his arms, feel them strong and solid around you—though he’d probably need just as much comforting as you.

“Dress up as this!” Your friend breaks the reverie as she prances over to you with a pair of fake fangs, the tips of them painted in acrylic blood. She holds them up to your mouth, and you struggle to manage a smile, if only to sate her enthusiasm. “It actually reminds me of…that vampire at the café. Say, have you seen him since then?”

You shake your head, moving away to sift through another rack of outfits as you try to maintain a detached expression. “Nope, not a glimpse. Haven’t even thought about him.”

When your friend doesn’t suspect anything, you let your expression drop just a tad, breathing out quietly.

The night of the party, the full moon is heavy and bold against the black blanket of the sky, which feels horribly cliché. You wonder if there are any werewolves out tonight, and what they might be doing right now.

“We’re going to have a good time tonight,” your friend insists as you both walk up the front steps of the host’s house. It’s someone you only vaguely know, a friend of a friend of a friend, but clearly a person who has an abundance of money judging by this expansive home. You don’t know why she feels the need to convince you, but maybe it’s because you haven’t seemed very enthusiastic so far. You only give a thumbs up to her words, which feels like an unconvincing gesture. Luckily for you, it works.

After a few hours, the party is still going strong but your head is starting to hurt from the music, and you’re growing weary of all the men crowding in too close, looking at you in your angel costume like you’re something to be devoured. You’ve rolled your eyes at way too many of them and their haphazardly put-together costumes, dressed up as vampires with terrible fake fangs or werewolves with manes of matted up fur.

Your friend keeps flitting around the party, talking to whoever she recognizes from classes or campus organizations, and you’ve given up on trying to follow her around any longer. Every time you turn around, she’s somewhere else. Noticing that you’re currently solo, a guy from one of your history classes comes up to you and begins what he thinks is an interesting conversation on how angels actually look more like Eldritch abominations than the cherubic humans depicted in paintings—so your costume is “technically inaccurate” —and your eyes glaze over as you pretend to listen to him.

You eventually manage to get away from him and get to an undisturbed corner, wedged next to two girls drinking cider and critically rating all the guys’ costumes. You pull your phone out and think about calling for a ride back to campus, but your thumb hovers over the message icon. You press it without thinking too much about it, and Johnny’s name appears as one of your most recent conversations. Though you feel somewhat nervous, you will yourself to open the box and begin typing.

To: Hi Johnny. I hope I’m not bothering you, but can I come over? 🙏🏿🙏🏿🙏🏿 I’m over this party

You put your phone back in your purse, trying not to get your hopes up for a quick response. You know there’s a good chance he’d still be awake at this time of night since he doesn’t need to sleep, but he has his own life and is probably off doing...vampire-y things. Whatever those things could be.

However, your hopes are met when your phone pings only a couple minutes later.

From: Of course. You’re not scared about spending your Halloween with a vampire? 😏

You smile at that.

To: I think I’ll be fine…as long as you don’t bite me.

From: 🦷🩸

—

You get to Johnny’s studio apartment not too long after, and you hang around outside his door for a few moments before knocking, suddenly feeling bashful about your costume. Maybe you should’ve changed before coming over here; what if he thinks it’s childish? Or maybe too revealing? Does he even care about that kind of stuff? Doesn’t matter now, though. You’re here, and there’s no way you’re turning back around.

He answers a few seconds after you knock, wearing a sweater and black pants. You notice his sweater is a cream color and not the usual black. He looks a little surprised to see your costume, and his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows.

“Wow, you look pretty. Nice of you to visit me after falling straight from Heaven.” You cringe at his cheesy line, though you also cannot deny that you secretly enjoy every bit of it.

“Thanks, Johnny...” you say timidly, stepping into his home as he lets you in. “Nice work with changing up the color scheme.”

He’s confused for a moment before realizing you’re talking about his clothes. “Oh yeah, that...um, haha. Thanks.”

Unbeknownst to you, the back of his mind is buzzing with a form of excitement he hasn’t felt in a while. Not the clawing, frantic spikes of bloodlust, but a more physical kind of desire. It’s pleasurable, but he also feels guilty about pining over how sweet and innocent you look in your all-white outfit, stockings hugging your legs perfectly and your dress just short enough to tempt the imagination. Really, you’ve painted a picture of perfect purity, and the only thing he can think about is ruining you. Putting his hands on you and peeling your dress off to reveal the soft skin underneath.

He casts those thoughts aside as you sit prettily on his couch, legs crossed at the ankles—though it’s hard to do so. “Do you want something to drink? Or eat? There isn’t a whole lot of food here, but I can order something…”

“Do you ever make your own coffee?” The question seems a bit random at first, and you try to explain. “You know, since you always get it from the café.”

Johnny smiles. “Do you want coffee? I can make it.”

You nod. “That would be nice…whatever you have.”

“I pretty much have your usual order memorized by now, so I should be good on making it.” Johnny walks to the kitchen. “You can look through the albums while you’re in there. The ones you haven’t seen yet.”

“Oh, thanks.” You feel a little nervous to be looking through the shelf of his treasured photo albums by yourself, but you’re also glad he trusts you enough to let you do it. It makes you feel important. Maybe even important to him, as silly as that might sound.

It isn’t long before the scent of coffee wafts out into the living room. Johnny returns soon with two cups of it, and just as he promised, yours is made just the way you like it.

“Thank you.” You set the album back on the shelf and take the cup from Johnny. For a while, both of you talk of nothing important—just filling the space with the details of your days.

“So how was the party?” Johnny finally asks, and he raises his eyebrows as he scans your outfit again. You grin halfheartedly.

“It was…alright. Kinda weird. I think it’d be more fun if I went to a regular university, but you know…”

Johnny shakes his head. “I can’t blame you for bailing out.”

“Yeah…I’ve been to college parties before, but the Halloween theme was a bit…”

“Strange for an institution that bans all supernatural beings?” Johnny finishes your sentence. He doesn’t look offended or irritated by it—only slightly amused.

You shrug, biting your lip. “Yeah, that.”

“Well, look on the bright side. I wouldn’t have gotten to see you in your natural form otherwise.”

This one almost goes over your head, too, but you catch it just in time. Johnny’s compliments make you feel warm all over, like you’re sitting under the sun. You grin and look down into your cup of coffee, unused to receiving such bold praise and unsure how to respond to it. Something pops into your mind, though, and you think it might be a good idea to run with it.

“You could...take a picture of me, you know. If you want to...since I’m all dressed up now anyway.” You meet his eyes only for a second and then look away, twisting the mug in your hands.

Johnny sits up a little straighter at your words, trying to catch your eyes, though you don’t hold his gaze for long. “You’re sure?” he asks.

“I’m sure. Go ahead! Before I change my mind.” You laugh nervously and carefully set your half-empty mug on the table.

Johnny’s camera is never too far away from him, so he grabs it and plays with the settings for a bit before looking back to you, a small smile on his face. “I’m gonna start, okay?” His voice is surprisingly soft. This, yet again, reminds you of him and the aster bush. He acts as if you might run away at the first shutter click, which makes you feel babied, but you don’t totally hate it.

The first few photos are a little awkward—at least to you. You aren’t sure how to pose, or if you should try to look more casual, though Johnny assures you you’re doing well. He gives you directives throughout, telling you to look in his direction or angle your face a certain way, and you follow his instructions to the best of your ability.

At one point, one of your dress straps slips down. When you go to fix it, Johnny says, “Wait. Could you keep it like that?”

You look at him, your body heating from the suggestion.

“Is that okay with you?”

“…Yes.” Your throat is dry, and your body reacts in a way you don’t expect—little nervous thrills in your hands and feet, though you try to internally explain it away as the coffee’s effects. Johnny takes a few more photos like this, and then he steps closer to gently touch your chin, guiding your face to the angle he’s looking for.

“So good for me.” It slips past his lips in a reverential murmur before he can really consider what he’s saying, and you both freeze. Your heart rate increases, and you wonder if he can hear how hard the red organ is beating in your chest. Probably.

You want to hear him say it again.

Johnny laughs awkwardly, his hand coming back to his side almost a little too quickly to be natural. “Um, I’m really sorry. That was a bit...”

“It…it’s fine.” You avoid his eyes. Johnny takes a few more photos, but the set of his mouth is a little tight, as if he’s stressed about something. Or regretting what he let slip, maybe. You want to tell him you really don’t feel bad about it, but you aren’t sure how to do that without making things more awkward…or revealing your true desires.

When Johnny has taken enough pictures of you to be satisfied with, he sits next to you on the couch, setting his camera on the coffee table and looking suddenly timid.

“I can’t wait to see them,” you say, attempting to break the tension that never really cleared the room after his earlier comment. He blinks for a moment like he doesn’t know what you mean, and then realizes—obviously, he’ll be developing the photos.

“They’ll come out nice, I’m sure. I think you’ll photograph well.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, and now it’s your turn to be unsure of how to resurrect the conversation.

“You’re beautiful.” It’s an abrupt comment. It makes your stomach twist in a pleasant, fluttery way, and you become hyperaware of his form sitting next to yours.

“Haven’t heard that one much, but thanks.”

Johnny turns to you. “Anyone who’d think otherwise is a fool.”

There’s a pause after this where you both simply study each other, watching for hidden reactions that can’t be read on the surface. The way he says it is…decisive, assured. But it also manages to be tender, as if he needs you to know what he thinks of you. Needs you to see yourself the way he does—the same way you do for him. You don’t know where the confidence comes from, but maybe his tone and his words and his endlessly dark eyes have pulled it out of you. “I want to kiss you.”

Johnny’s lips part. “Are you certain?”

“I’m certain.”

He doesn’t hesitate anymore. Johnny moves closer to you and cups the back of your neck. Something awakens in his eyes in the seconds before he presses his mouth to yours. Though he wants to drink eagerly from your lips, his kiss is languid to avoid overwhelming you, and there is an audible smack of your lips whenever he pulls away and presses back in.

His mouth tastes like the coffee you just drank, but underneath that you swear you can taste a hint of the deep iron of blood, and you don’t know how to feel about that. You think about what his fangs would feel like scraping against your bottom lip, if he’d ever show them to you, and you moan quietly.

“Do you want this? With me?” Johnny confirms once more, pulling his gaze away from your lips and up to your eyes. His own eyes are yearning, but there is also an element of something like fear roiling in them. As if you’d turn him away, even though you’ve already shown your desire for him.

“Yes. Just you. No one else.”

Johnny’s body gravitates towards yours, and you think he’s going to push you down onto the sofa, but he scoops your legs up and carries you to his bedroom instead. Even his hands on your waist and legs makes you burn inside.

This is the first time you've seen his bedroom. The sheets are cloud-soft when he sets you down on them, and his window lets moonlight shine through the open blinds and scatter in thick beams across the floor. The only other light source is the bedside lamp, which emits a comfortable yellowish glow.

Johnny joins you on the bed and lets you climb into his lap—encourages you to do so. His cool hands pulling at your thighs as you settle them on either side of his waist makes tingles go through your body. You don’t hesitate to bring your lips back together, kissing each other deeply as one of his hands cradles the back of your head and the other settles on the small of your back.

You are certain vampires don’t have any powers of enchantment—that’s for magic wielders. And yet, you feel like you’ve been put in a trance by his kisses alone, and you wonder how you could’ve lived this long without knowing how his lips feel—how they fit perfectly against your own. As if everything up to now has purposely led you together.

You shift in Johnny’s embrace, and the movement causes his thigh to slide between your legs. Your heat is pressed against his thigh directly now, your silken panties catching against the denim of his pants. You murmur against his lips, not really saying anything of substance but wanting to vocalize your desire to him. Johnny’s hand tightens slightly on your back, and he experimentally lifts his leg higher and slides his thigh across you. That draws a gasp from you.

Noticing your positive response, Johnny continues rocking his thigh up against your pussy and kissing you until you’re breathless and your nipples are straining against the fabric of your dress. You pull away from him for a moment to try to ground yourself, feeling like your nerves are already being singed with fiery pleasure. Johnny’s face is noticeably more flushed than before, but he also looks much more composed than you feel at the moment.

“It takes longer to get hard,” he explains, as if reading the lingering question in your own expression. “Since...you know. Slow blood.” You rock your hips over his thigh more enthusiastically, motivated to get him hard underneath you, and you listen to his choppy breaths as you move. Your movements aren’t the smoothest, but he helps you guide your hips in a way that feels good for you both. You’ve never been with anyone before, so it doesn’t much matter to you how long or quick it takes for him to get there as long as he does.

Feeling the bulge grow underneath you excites you. Johnny groans against your lips as you kiss him and rub yourself over his member. The sound comes from somewhere deep inside him, as if it’s something he’s been containing for a long time. Your hand goes to his waist and tugs at his belt loops, then drifts closer to his belt buckle, pulling the leather and metal apart. Johnny pauses when you get off his lap and slide further down, grips your arms like he doesn’t want you to go. “Are…you sure? You don’t have to…if it’s too much—”

“I want to, Johnny.”

With your affirmative, he lets you kneel between his legs, pull his zipper apart, and trace your curious fingers over the bulge beneath the fabric of his underwear. Johnny loses his breath when you drag his underwear down, sliding it over the heated skin of his dick. His length is thick and long—even with him not being fully hard yet—and the tip glistens wet with precum. You weren’t sure what to expect, but this is much bigger than you think you might be able to handle. It makes your face warm and your stomach do another series of flips. Still, you want it and you want him, so you aren’t going to stop now.

You lean closer to press your lips against his shaft, leaving a few soft kisses behind. Johnny’s mouth parts when your mouth touches him.

Johnny gently holds the back of your head as you leave small licks over his shaft, tasting the salty skin on your tongue. He lets out a shaky breath as he watches you, his other hand brushing the side of your face.

“Just like that…” he murmurs, his voice heavy with lust as you circle your tongue around the thick, darkened tip, catching drops of his precum. He never takes his eyes off you, and this makes you feel a little exposed, but you continue with your actions. When you suck Johnny’s tip past your lips, his thighs tense under you, the thick muscle reacting beautifully to your actions on his body.

More precum drips from him, and you find the taste strangely pleasing. It makes you want more of him, of whatever he has to offer you. You wrap your hand around his shaft, though it doesn’t fit entirely around, and begin stroking him in a way you hope feels good.

Johnny’s hand slips over yours to guide your movements and show you how much pressure to apply, what pace to stroke him at. “Like this, baby…yes, that’s so good…” He showers you with praise as you get the hang of it, and he eventually lets your hand go so you can do it on your own, his own hand drifting back to the bed to grip the comforter.

It’s hard to quantify just how much seeing you like this turns him on, you kneeling between his legs with his cock between your lips while wearing your pretty, angelic outfit. His previous guilt about “corrupting” you descends to the very back of his mind as he savors every moment of your hands on his cock and your tongue circling his slit.

“I’m close,” he whispers. You quicken your movements on him, hollowing your cheeks tighter around his dick, and the moan he gives shoots straight between your legs.

Johnny carefully pulls your head back so you won’t choke before he comes, streams of his seed shooting into your mouth and running down his cock. Your hand still squeezes around him as he comes, and he slowly thrusts into the tight circle of your fist as you milk every drop from him. By the time he’s spent, your mouth and hand and part of the sheets are completely sticky with his release. You imagine it must have been a long time since he’s last had an orgasm.

The vampire watches intently as you swallow his cum, which causes his softening dick to throb in your hand. He takes your face in his hands and kisses you deeply, uncaring of the taste of himself in your mouth. His hair tickles your face as he kisses you feverishly, his nose bumping yours and his tongue prodding past your lips.

“Come here, angel.” Johnny pulls your body up onto the bed before you can get yourself up there first. The pet name makes warmth flood through your body, like drinking a hot chocolate at the café, except a thousand times more satisfying. Johnny’s hands are once again caressing your thighs, though this time they slide up underneath your dress and squeeze your hips. “Can I take these pretty panties off you?”

“Please.”

He hooks his fingers into the sides of them and pulls them down your legs and past your ankles. One of his hands goes underneath your dress to feel you soft and wet against his fingers, and you both moan at the same time. He slides his digits through your lips and over your clit, and him leaning forward to bring his mouth to your throat is enough to have you nearly overwhelmed. His fingers tease your entrance but don’t push inside until you nearly have to beg him.

“Please, Johnny…” You push your hips up to get his attention.

“Do you want my fingers?” he asks softly.

“Y-yes…” At your words, he eases the middle one into you, slowly enough to avoid discomfort. It feels strange to have someone else’s fingers inside you. His finger reaches further than yours can, touching you more deeply than you’ve felt before; it makes you gasp a bit too sharply.

“Are you hurt?” he asks, freezing and thinking he might’ve done something wrong.

“N-no, I’m fine. Keep going.”

Johnny’s mouth edges closer to the cleavage of your dress as he starts thrusting his finger into you, warming you up enough to take a second digit. Shakily, you bring your hands up to slide the straps down and make it easier for him, and his breath hitches when you pull the top of your dress down.

His mouth envelopes one of your nipples as he slides the second finger into you. His fingers encounter a part of you that makes you moan unexpectedly and grab onto him, a little surprised at the sudden spike of pleasure.

“You’re so pretty,” he purrs, his lips moving against the curve of your breast as he speaks. “And so responsive.”

As Johnny’s mouth and fingers work you closer to an orgasm, you marvel at how handsome he looks and how good he feels. He opens his eyes to see you staring at him, your pupils wide and mouth desperate, and he separates himself from your chest to kiss you deeply once again.

When you come around his fingers, Johnny whispers more compliments to you about how good you are and how he wants to watch you come undone because of him all the time. When he thinks you might be on the brink of overstimulation, he takes his fingers out of you, slipping them into his mouth to taste you.

“I’ll take this off now. Is that okay?” He whispers this into your ear with his hands on either side of your hips, caressing the fabric of your dress.

“I-it’s okay.”

Johnny slips your dress off, leaving you in nothing but your white sheer stockings. The sight of you sitting there on his bed, breathing heavily from your climax in your pretty thigh-highs, has his cock throbbing and rising to life once again.

“Lay back on the bed.” You do, and he settles himself between your legs like you did for him earlier. When you glance at him, his eyes are heavy and piercing. In this moment, you are acutely reminded of the fact that he is not a human, with how he looks like a beast of prey about to devour a meal. You are too nervous to look back at him for long, so you stare at the ceiling with your legs shaking from anticipation.

Johnny’s mouth on you is almost jarring in how wet it is, and you arch up into him in surprise and a rush of pleasure. He gently presses your legs back onto the bed and continues licking into you, parting your lower lips with his tongue and making your thighs tremble under his grasp.

If you had to describe it in words, you probably wouldn’t be able to. He kisses your pussy the same way he kisses you on the mouth, passionately and with more than enough tongue to satisfy. Johnny slips his fingers into you again as he curls his lips around your clit, and you moan unabashedly.

You’re quickly spiraling towards another orgasm, maybe quicker than you expected; but it makes sense with you still being so raw from the climax you just had. You gain enough courage to give another glance down at Johnny, and you see the way his other arm moves back and forth from beneath the bed, stroking himself while he eats you out. Something about that pushes you over the edge, and you cry out as you come on his tongue.

As Johnny gives you time to calm down again, he stands and finally pulls his clothes off, baring his body to you. You’re not sure if you’ve ever seen a man so beautiful.

He goes to get a condom, and your words stumble from your lips before you can psych yourself out of saying them. “I-I’m on birth control.” Johnny looks back at you, his gaze filled with something you can’t quite read. He comes closer to you, holding himself above you on the bed so his face is hovering just above yours.

“You want to feel me raw?” he whispers.

You nod under his burning stare, feeling like you’re on a high you won’t be able to get off of. “I need you, Johnny.”

Johnny climbs fully onto the bed then and positions himself between your legs. His cock is thick and heavy between his thighs as it bumps against your inner thigh and leaves a smear of precum behind. After putting some lube in his hand, he slicks himself with the sticky substance, preparing himself to fuck you open. Something deep in your abdomen shudders, and your walls clench around nothing as you watch him stroke his shaft, the squelching, wet sound of his hand on his dick loud in the quiet room.

When he’s done, he grabs your thighs and pulls you a little closer to him. “If it hurts, tell me, okay?”

“O-okay.”

The slick tip prodding at your hole makes you want more, though you are a bit afraid of how this is going to feel. When it finally pushes inside of you, you gasp. Johnny watches your face for signs of pain as he slides forward further.

With two previous orgasms and the lube to help, his cock stretches you open with some discomfort, but not the kind of sharp pain you expected. Your nails leave little half-moon shapes on Johnny’s biceps as you squeeze his arms and try to keep your lower half relaxed, wanting to take all of him in—or as much as you can manage, anyway. You try to keep your breathing even as he pushes into you slowly.

Your eyebrows crease and your mouth tightens when he slides deeper still, and he pauses. “Johnny…” You worry your lip with your teeth, feeling like you’ve been stuffed to the brim—and he’s not even all the way in yet.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” you beg, maintaining your grip on his arms. “Just…try moving.”

Johnny pulls out and slowly thrusts back in again, angling his dick to find that sensitive spot within you. Your mouth falls open silently when he does; this feels much, much different from his fingers. This is better.

Johnny repeats the movement, being mindful not to push himself too deep—only enough for you to handle. Beneath him, your body begins unwinding at the pleasure he’s delivering to you, and your eyes flutter closed as the ecstasy takes over your mind. One of his hands goes to tease your clit as he settles into a good rhythm, and you cry out at the extra dose of pleasure.

“You’re taking me so well,” Johnny mumbles as he sits back and watches himself slide into you, both of your lower halves slick from lube and your own wetness. “So warm and wet, angel…” You can tell he’s using a lot of his energy to keep his pace controlled and gentle enough for you to actually enjoy. The idea of being fucked harder makes you ache deep inside, but you figure it’s best to save that for when you’re more used to this. You already know it’ll be difficult to walk in the morning after this.

Johnny leans forward to kiss your lips, changing the angle again and circling his pelvis into you, and a choked gasp escapes your mouth at the slow wind of his hips.

Johnny lavishes your neck and throat with kisses, and though he is a vampire, you aren’t worried about him biting you. His fangs have not made an appearance since all this started, and you doubt if he would ever bring them out in front of you. You don’t know if you should ask about it, either, wondering if it’s too soon after only a month and a half of knowing each other—but maybe you could say the same about him being inside of you right now.

“Johnny…” you whisper into the air, your fingers scrabbling against his sweaty skin. The mounting tension in your abdomen is close to snapping, and you are almost frightened by how intense it already feels. He moves his face from your neck to be face-to-face with you again and plants a heavy, dizzying kiss on your lips.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs against your kiss-swollen lips. “I’ve got you, Y/N.”

Falling apart in Johnny’s arms feels like a form of Heaven that’s meant to be kept hidden, because you might become addicted to it otherwise. Your inner muscles squeeze around his dick as you come. His name flows from your lips in a high song. You can’t imagine any physical sensation that could be better than this, his hips rocking into you as you tighten and cream around him, and you know innately that Johnny has ruined all chances of you ever feeling this fulfilled with anyone but him.

The constant pulse of your walls against his dick is too much to withstand for long, and Johnny’s muscles pull taut with pleasure when he comes, groaning into your neck and spilling overflowing streams of thick cum into you. His hips falter in their former rhythm, and he resists the urge to push himself as deep as he can into you.

When he pulls out, you whine from the discomfort of it, but also because you wish he could stay in you forever. You know you’ll be sore when you wake up—and you can already feel the very beginnings of exhaustion and ache settling in your body—but you’d do it a hundred times over without changing a thing.

—

Johnny curls himself around you after he’s cleaned the both of you up, as if he means to shield you from the world. You’re quiet for a while as you listen to his slow-beating heart and feel his cool skin against yours.

You look up at his face, which is hard to see distinctly in the dark of the room. With the lamp turned out, the only source of light comes from the moon now, but you can decipher enough to make out the shape of his lips and his glittering eyes. You know he can see much better than you in this light, and he takes his time tracing his fingers across your face and cheek, studying your features.

“Would you ever…make me a vampire?”

His body tenses at your question. “Don’t say anything ridiculous. You still have a whole life ahead of you to live. What I have here...this is no existence.” He’s not mad, at least not at you, but his voice hardens at the very idea of it.

“But what if I wanted to live it with you?”

Johnny takes a breath, but he doesn’t say anything to that. He just continues stroking your face and looks at you for a long time, like he’s searching for something. You don’t know if you truly expected an answer from him, or how you would feel if he did give one.

Eventually, your eyes begin to fall low, and sleep overcomes you. The last thing you register is Johnny’s chilly hand touching your cheek. When he notices you’ve drifted off, he pulls the covers tighter around you both. Then he presses you to his chest as he tunes out the sound of cars rumbling on the streets below in exchange for the beating of your heart—still alive, so red with blood.

#all these brown colors...how taurean of me #johnny smut #johnny angst #johnny fic #johnny scenario #johnny imagines #johnny imagine #johnny scenarios #nct fic #nct imagine #nct imagines #nct scenario #nct scenarios #nct smut #nct angst #ambw scenarios #ambw scenario #kpop ambw #ambw imagines #ambw imagine #ambw fic #ambw #nct vampire au #nct vampire

[olderthannetfic]

Ah, I do see your points, anon. I'm not going to post all your asks publicly because if you really feel that unsafe, it's probably best not to have a bigass chunk of your text for people to analyze and try to guess your identity from. I think one of the best points you made is about how close to home it hits when the non-fave is not only your fave but is similar to you in some way like demographic. You're not wrong for having those emotions. I do wonder if they make it hard to see how some other people feel similarly embattled on other axes.

TBH, I think one of the big problems here is that the large aggregate patterns you're talking about are racist, but most individual fics and fans are not really the problem. It's hard to know how to talk about this or who to tell to "fix" it when we're looking at free, hobbyist art.

A lot of people's tastes are certainly formed by shitty society, but once they're formed, they don't change fast if at all. Asking someone to rewrite their libido is a big ask, yet tumblr does it all the time as though it's as simple as snapping your fingers.

This leaves me with the sense that a lot of tumblr is... like... the political lesbians of porn fic or something: desire is not real, only choosing based on logic and politics. Or maybe people are so asexual that they just don't understand the lizard brain's "YES!" at some porn things and complete indifference to others?

I don't think it's great if great swaths of people feel like bottom!Nicky is super hot and top!Nicky fundamentally isn't, but I also don't think they can necessarily just turn it off like flipping a switch.

(If someone reading this doesn't like their current tastes and wants to attempt to alter them, I do think it's possible. What you should do is line up a large slate of media that prominently features characters of the ethnicity or whatever that you don't find hot/interesting. These should be leads whose emotional development drives the plot and is supposed to be central to the audience's enjoyment of the media. Watch/read/etc. this media all the time. All. The. Time. Try out many pieces because you won't like every character or every show, and we're looking for genuine enjoyment, not the fandom equivalent of a pity fuck. Spend enough time on this, and your unconscious sense of who's hot and interesting will eventually shift somewhat. This is a project you should expect to take a few years.)

But I digress.

The one tweet thing is a very toxic pattern. If TOG fandom is doing that, guys, please try to be more conscious of holding the actors of color to a higher standard (or the women or whomever). I know this often comes from a place of paying more attention to our own and wanting to set a good standard, but the effect is that minorities can't fuck up ever while white dudes get infinite passes.

Okay, on to the fic thing... Gotta say, my instant reaction to that description is "Ooh!"--as it would be for the same scenario with the characters reversed. (Ships who start out trying to kill each other are my favorite! x1000 if they're resurrecting style immortals and they literally do.) I can see how it would feel like slamming into a brick wall if you aren't kinky in just the right way and you didn't know it was coming though.

Part of why I react so strongly to a lot of discourse that runs along these lines is that I am a naturally extremely kinky person. It's not so much about what I do (which as a deeply lazy person in a long distance relationship is essentially nothing), but it's absolutely how I'm wired.

And I can tell you that my quotidian experience in fandom is sharing something I don't even realize is a big deal only to have someone I like, respect, and trust react in horror and tell me that it's triggering and awful and should not be allowed in fandom spaces because it makes "people" unsafe. It's such an instant, kneejerk reaction they don't even realize I was sharing it because it spoke to the very core of me. Lesson learned, friend. Lesson learned.

That sounds a bit off topic, I know, but bear with me: The point of that anecdote is that it's pretty common for me to get people trying to raise my awareness of things I have already thought deeply about while denying my essential humanity and not even realizing. As a kinky person who likes to make my fave the top (and generally a conflicted sadist), this constant request to explain and justify is exhausting.

I doubt most of the top!Joe fans have this precise problem simply because people who make their fave the top are much less common in fandom than people who make their fave the bottom, but I see a similar pattern with fans who are just fundamentally wired for rape fantasies (one of the most common fantasies that exists) vs. fans who just don't get rape fantasies at all. Or substitute your BDSM/kinky/messed up fantasy trope of choice. Covertly radical feminist attitudes towards kink and power are on the rise in fandom, and as a naturally kinky person, boy do I notice it!

I know that it feels like crucial activism to share these insights about why the ratio of top!Joe is hurtful, and the pain you feel is real. But it's also the case that it's a big ask to want people to listen. (Not me. Obviously, I routinely choose to engage with discourse. I mean overall.) The reason for that is that you're only seeing a fraction of what they do or who they are, and you don't know how many previous people they've listened to how many previous times. It's a very different situation from someone whose job is making some major TV series or movie or something. That person does, in my opinion, owe you some amount of listening.

Now, I'm not saying no top Joe fan was ever a jerk. I'll bet they were. There's a tendency to be rude and to publicly air your schadenfreude when you feel like everyone has been yelling at you. What I am saying is that a lot of the problem here boils down to conflicting needs, and that means there isn't a good solution. It's a situation where people are genuinely hurt, but I don't necessarily agree that other people have harmed them.

I like that you did an actual count of the explicit fics, btw. It's good to look at the real numbers. I see too little of that in these situations. My off the cuff reaction is that 2/3 to 1/3 is not a bad ratio at all compared to many fandoms, but yeah, it definitely shows a strong trend, and that can be painful. (I have a fandom where I think there's maybe like 1 bottom so-and-so fic in the entire zine era fandom. One. It's pretty extreme.)

I guess my thinking here overall is: What is the practical solution? What are we hoping to gain? What is reasonable to ask of people?

And it can't be "Well, if they would just listen..." That's just a sneaky way of saying "If you haven't done it my way, it's because you haven't listened to me yet."

So the question I would ask of people is this:

What does a non-racist fic where Joe tops look like?

What does a non-racist sex pollen, dubcon, or even noncon fic where Joe tops look like?

And if you say the latter is impossible... well... sadists exist everywhere in the world. So do doms. So do people who prefer to top in a purely physical sense. People with rape fantasies where they're the rapist exist (people who are not actually rapists, I mean). None of this is restricted to any one group. We can't categorically say fic like that about Joe is coming from a place of racism without denying the fundamental humanity of kinky MENA people who'd want to make Joe like themselves or like their ideal partner. (Yes, I agree this won't be the majority of fic writers writing top!Joe, but this is a place to start for figuring out what the better version would look like.)

IDK, maybe you're that kinkster yourself, but your asks gave me the vibe that you don't really get the drive towards those darker kinds of fics and what might be motivating it besides stereotypes and shittiness.

If we can answer these kinds of questions, we can better critique the way people write what they write without telling them all of their taste is bad and they should just stop writing. Even if we think the latter is true, it isn't going to get us anywhere. Figuring out how to make Joe more multidimensional in the fic they already want to write or finding very specific wording that should be avoided might actually work.

Beyond that, the actions I think are productive would be running prompt fests, exchanges, or other events for bottom!Joe or for top!Joe where he's the main character and the fics are required to be from his POV. Themed collections and recs lists are great. (I've seen a bit of this going around in TOG fandom in the past, and that's an excellent approach! Keep it up!) Positive actions tend to work better here. Make more of what you want. Promote what you want to see.

I don't mean this in some fluffy magical thinking way: you aren't going to change that ratio radically just by the power of positivity. But I've seen this kind of thing play out in many, many fandoms, and going after the people who write what you don't like, even in a well-intentioned effort to educate and even in a polite, kind way doesn't do much. A few people feel guilty. A few feel defensive. A lot ignore you. The overall fic doesn't change. It's not a good use of your limited time and energy.

I'm off to look up that fic to see what I think of it in practice, but I'm going to post this before tumblr manages to eat it.

[binniesthighs]

multifandom soulmate aus ✨

soulmate (n): a person ideally suited to another as a close friend or romantic partner.

✨ a/n: hello hello!! today on, “Ro’s self indulgent fics” ehehe i’ve been thinking a lot about some of my favorite kpop besties and how i feel like sometimes in a group, there’s the members who just stick like glue and it’s kinda like they were destined to meet that way! anyway hehe this concept is so fkn cute to me so i wanted to make some poly r-ship headcannons with some of my favorites! 

➛ disclaimer: the pairings that i use are def not all inclusive of all “soulmate” pairings out there, just the ones i know of atm! also, i know some of these groups better than others, so some will be more specific, and others a little more general! 

✨ groups included: stray kids, ateez, the boyz, monsta x, seventeen, txt, bts 

✨ feedback is always appreciated! who’s your favorite?✨

➛maybe if we’re feelin’ spicy i can do a part 2 with the ones i haven’t done yet ;) 

Pairing: idol x female reader x idol (see fandoms above!) 

Genre: fluff n’ smut

Tags: established r/ship au, poly r-ship, sexual content (the usual stuff also including unprotected sex-please stay safe!) comfort ahhh, mentions of food alcohol  

*all photocreds go to ops :) 

both sfw and nsfw under the snip snip! 

♡ chanlix ♡

sfw

omg where the hell do i start with chanlix we love our cannon soulmates 

arguably the softest fkn pairing on this list; being soulmates with chanlix is like meeting your other halves (thirds?). there’s some serious destiny at work here!! 

the three of you understand each other on a spiritual level--almost to the point where you could likely read their minds if you wanted to try haha. there’s also a really, really strong type of emotional intimacy that you share with them that’s out of this world. 

this soulmate bond is so fkn strong, the three of you could go through any hardships and come out of it stronger than ever! 

the three of you have cute lil nicknames for eachother that you thought up yourselves! 

 your families are close as heck! it’s really pure how by the three of you so many people can get close ahhh 

i think that chanlix would be really into more outdoorsy dates? camping, swimming, hiking, sightseeing, stargazing, picnics etc! felix also loves taking you on food tours! 

bc chan is chan, he really takes on such a protective role over you and felix, he would quite literally do anything for you two: forgot your notebook or documents on the way to work/school? he’ll drop everything to bring them to you. sad? he’ll get you your favorite food, tons of blankets, his hoodie to wear and your favorite movie/tv show to watch with you! if anyone hurts your feelings too he will square tf up. 

felix is the world’s most adoring boyfriend in so, so many ways. not only is he such a cuddle bug, he shows you that he cares with tons of acts of service similar to chan! this comes in the form of his baking of course and other silly little gifts he sees that reminds you of him. he isn’t the best at words sometimes, but will soothe you by giving you a little massage or by playing with your hair! 

nsfw 

okay...😏 damn i’ve been wanting to write some poly chanlix so fkn bad ahhhh 

once again i really see chan taking the lead in more intimate situations. he really likes giving directions and seeing both you and felix carry them out! honestly he gets a bit of an ego boost seeing the both of you all whiny and fucked out ahhh 

here i come with my softsub!felix agenda oops hehe but this boy is frickin’ angelic for you and chan oml, he always asks for permission before he does things and eats praise up with a fkn spoon. praises alone really get him off: “does lixie like it when i play with his cute cock like this?” 

there’s something that gets the three of you ridiculously amped when you do all kinds of roleplay scenarios FRICK some favorites are pet play (you and lix being the kitties) teacher/student, roleplaying strangers, sex slaves, artist/muse, oh my god there was a halloween where you once did vampire roleplay you still think about it 🤤 

since the three of you are so comfortable with eachother, experimentation feels really safe! for example, the suggestion of shibari came up and now....let’s just say lix looks really pretty tied up ;) 

chan’s got a huuuuge (cock) and size kink!! he really likes topping both you and lix and seeing a bulge omg.... also when he can bulge your throats mmmhm! 

felix loves it especially when you ride his face, and he cold do it for hours! he looks so cute between your legs when he licks over and over your clit. he’ll ask you too if he’s doing good and you better say yes ;) 

favorite position would be all cuddled up and cozy with the two of them double penetrating you real nice and slow with tons of kisses and just touchin’ all over 

cockwarming cockwarming all day, every single time, without fail, it feels wrong if you finish without it! 

♡ woosan  ♡

sfw 

idk why but the first thing that comes to my mind is that in certain settings, ya’ll are loud as fuck AHA i guess what i mean to say as that as a trio, you are all super, super unapologetic and confident when around each other! this might have lead to you getting kicked out of a couple bowling alleys and karaoke places before... 

there’s a type of unspoken understanding that the three of you have that makes your bond so special. while you love eachother so dearly, it isn’t something that you really feel needs to be said out loud, it kind of just is! 

woosan are already really clingy on their own and when you come along?? you all can’t keep your hands off each other!! ya know how in movies there’s the whole “hand in the back pocket of your jeans???” woosan!! 

their energy together is so fkn chaotic but that's why you love them! they never fail to make you laugh and this is also the best way that they know how to cheer you up! 

Bc the three of you are a bit unbridled, it’s a bit hard to be serious at times when you go on dates/hang out with friends together so often you get some affectionate eye rolls haha 

wooyoung is someone that will try anything with you! hehe even if he knows that he mind not be that into it, he’ll still go with you! of course, he might say something snarky but he really does love just spending time with you! wooyoung also shares you with all his friends (changbin, yeonjun) so lowkey it feels like you’re one of the bros at times LOL 

san is a big fan of giving you gifts! oh also! words of affirmation too, san is someone who knows your insecurities well, so hypes you tf up all the time!! he especially loves buying things for you that he knows you’ll look pretty in just so he can compliment you ahhh 

at the end of the day however, there’s nothing more more that the three of you love than the tightest cuddles ever as you fall asleep! honestly, sometimes its a little too tight haha 

nsfw 

THESE BOYS FKN RAVISH YOU LIKE YOU’RE A FIVE COURSE MEAL 

and of course they expect the same from you as well! i mean....can you blame them??? these boys are sexy as hell and they frickin’ know it!! 

i have this super clear image of both of them stripping you down and rubbing massage oil all over your body and then giving you the turn to do it to them my lord...

sort of along this line, temperature play makes these boys feral. wax, ice, blowies with popsicles you name it 

both of them really just like being touched all over because they have the prettiest dancer’s bodies and just feeling hands on their muscles makes them loose it. 

wooyoung loves to mark the hell out the both of you in a really territorial way: all over your chests and necks even on your thighssss 

san, while he often does find himself in sub space, really easily can switch to dom you in the most beautiful way. everything with him is really intimate and raw: if this wasn’t already obvious haha he would like have a hand kink and loves seeing the way that his fingers look pumping in and out of your entrance and how your juices look as well. 

back too wooyoung, he’s the king of oral. whether it’s going down on you and sucking at your clit or deep throating with master level skill...foreplay is never boring with him! 

in my brain, i can see the both of them filling nearly position so this makes for an interesting dynamic to say the least AHA 

every once and a while, they’ll let you take complete control of the both of them while they just sit back and watch you with the most smug-ass grins that you’ll see in your life! 

AH another thought: woosan fkn love when you squirt on them, in any way this might look: when you’re nearly screaming in your overstimulation they want it all over them. 

favorite position would be 69 threesome style with all of your sloppy moans in-between <3 

♡  moonbae  ♡

sfw 

HEAR ME OUT the king of soulmates that know that they are soulmates but don’t take it seriously in the slightest istg this is my most favorite dynamic ahhhh 

there is not one dull day with these two boys, they’ll have you laughing in stiches until you can barely breathe like, the best kind of wheezy, silent laughter ya know what i’m talking about 

INSIDE JOKES literally so many inside jokes with the three of you 

Kevin is never scared to call your ass out, but that’s bc he knows you so well!! it’s all just jokes don’t ya worry ;) 

Along this line, your groupchat like has some random-ass name that’s also an inside joke

Jacob on the other hand is the biggest sweetheart when it comes to you, boy frickin’ melts. There is not a day that goes by when he hasn’t told you he loves ya morning and night. 

Also the best listener in the whole world, you can tell him anything and everything and he’s just sit and listen and give advice. 

Kevin loves you a ton a ton but just shows it differently! He remembers all the little things about you that you tell him to the point it’s scary how he does it so well 

Meme king Kevin would send you memes that remind him of you and Jacob

Lowkey i can see the both of them getting into the cutest petty arguments like which one of them you love more or think is more talented AHA again it’s all in good fun hehe 

it goes without saying but...it’s cuddle central up in here. 

THEY WOULD SERENADE TF OUT OF YOU oh my god it’s literally heavenly, Kevin would play piano and Jacob would play guitar FRICK 

You have oddly specific dates?? Like they would pick a movie to go see that the three of you would all hate just to meme the whole time. Jacob would still get invested accidentally tho. 

The way to both of these boy’s hearts is their stomachs so when you cook for them they would quite literally do anything for you 

nsfw 

ok ok so i’m a baby deobi so this is the gist of what i’m getting (i also did a little research LOL thank you @ deobi smutblr hehe) 

firstly i would like to say that i’m manifesting thigh riding with Jacob and i literally can’t think of anything else for some reason just p h e w and BOY does he love it too he thinks its so fkn cute to watch you! 

i get heavy, heavy switch vibes from Kevin with maybe some sub leanings??? either way, jacob def has soft dom vibes (oh god and occasional soft sub) to me but also has no problem with you taking control and doing what you like to him if that’s what you desire! 

kevin is impatient impatient and does not do well with your teasing. also...loud as hell, like, sometimes you have to tell him that he needs to calm tf down hehe (but of course you love it when he gets like that) 

separately, both of them are very different experiences i think: kevin is a fan of hard and fast, kitchen counter over the sofa type stuff sloppy toppy in risky places, and he loves to experiment too! 

jacob is also really different where he likes much, much more slow and intimate stuff like missionary, shower sex, real atmospheric stuff like candles and nice scents ahhh BIG fan of really fluffy pet names too like baby, princess, angel etc. super visual too omggg gets hard when you strip for him i think ;) 

together it’s a fkn whirlwind i’ll tell ya that. its like, honestly the most unique experience i can think of on this list because the two of them are so different. i will say that it can end up being really giggly and sweet tho! 

when it’s the three of you, kevin’s dom side comes out a little more so you’re left with these two lovely boys who want to give you all the attention! it’s lowkey a competition lol 

favorite position is when you’re sucking jacob off and kevin gets to do literally whatever the hell he wants with your pussy...i imagine that it might have to do a lot with edging if you ask me ;) 

♡ jookyun  ♡ 

sfw

oddly, i find myself soft af for jookyun and idk how to describe it haha (considering that they can often be hard as hellll) 

the three of you are also really nonchalant, but this is really in the way that you just feel as if you’ve known eachother for a really long time! 

as we know, jookyun were a bit of an enimies to lovers arc (AHA) so with the time that they’ve spent building their bond, it’s strong asf! 

i like to think that jooheon and changkyun would really get a ton of artistic inspiration from you for their music. since both of them write and often reflect bc of this, you’re totally their muse! (they’ll write some nasty as hell lyrics thanks to you too LOL) 

while our lovely thicc mx boys have unbridled confidence at times, really, they are babie. and they are frickin weak for your pampering. 

because of this, the two of them would become flustered as all hell when you do lil things for them!! this could be making them some lunch or just giving them the off compliment that they look a lil extra handsome that day. 

your safe place is with them!! ahhh i would also like to add the number of slick ass grabs when you’re in public is a bit off the chain at times ahah 

the duality of this r/ship is really something to note LOL when you go out and about when the two of them you certainly get some stares bc they look a lil intimidating at times but when you and your boyfriends cuddle up on the subway you give all passerby's whiplash haahah

Kyun is someone who is insanely romantic. almost to the point that it is cheesy haha he’d treat the both of you to expensive ass dinners, beach vacations and maybe even matching couple’s jewelry like rings or bracelets! 

jooheon on the other hand is a little more toned down haha but has another side to him that fkn swells with pride knowing how breathtaking you both are...frankly, his ego skyrockets knowing that he’s got you both for arm candy if this make sense teehee 

the three of you call eachother “babe” interchangeably, so it can get a bit confusing when you’re all in the same place and someone says “hey babe?” you need a new nickname ooP 

nsfw 

hello and here i am to push the sub!changkyun agenda. first and foremost i would like to explain how this man is such a pillow princess with the most lovely bratty edge *sighs* all that kyun wants is for you to fkn use him and do literally whatever the hell you want!! this man daydreams about you riding him right then and there wherever the hell he is. 

also, kyun is the king of toys, both using them on you and on himself! need i also say breath play as well in the same giving and receiving form? more than anything he loves it when jooheon wraps his hand around his neck hooooly ahhh he prefers it when you tease his tip with a vibrator until he’s angrily red and begging for you to give him a break just for you to bend down and give a kiss to his pearly head which makes him jolt 

jooheon is often more of a soft to hard dom if you ask me and takes care of both you and kyun really well. also... he will manhandle the hell out of you if you feel up for it (cough cough your arm kink for him ) oh shit and his thighs....don't’ even get me started 

while the three of you often opt for the hard and fast (even in some more risque places--such as in the recoding studio) there are really some more intimate times that you share too! 

on one of changkyun’s vacations, in the middle of the night, when no one was in sight and the hot tub was free for use...it started out as a bit of making out but then turned into something else when you decided to straddle jooheon and he let his hands creep under the straps of your swimsuit...needless to say you were bouncing on both of their dicks while you were warmed by the crackling bubbles 

at times, jookyun can get a little needy and impatient without you, so this has lead to a couple situations where you walk in on them letting out their frustrations ;) of course, immediately then they’d love for you to join! 

kyun has an oral fixation too, sooo he may or may not love cockwarming with his mouth or sucking your fingers lightly when you go to suck his dick~ 

♡  junhao  ♡

sfw

here me out with this one...but...there’s something really intimate about this relationship?? oh how to put this into words LOL junhao also have an insanely deep bond that really transcends if ya ask me haha 

while they both can be really goofy around eachother when comfortable the soulmate vibes are just...immaculate! this is all i can say? all three of you are just so connected in the way that you accept each other for all that you are and just kind of naturally gravitate towards each other even before you really knew that there were romantic feelings involved! 

first, i would like to say that out of all the pairings on this list, you three are classy as FUCK. seeing the three of you next to eachother is like seeing literally three models in the flesh. the way that you dress (sometimes even to match a little) is unbelievable bc you all just look so good? 

hand holdingggg wherever you go! holding hands across cafe tables, playing with each other’s hands absentmindedly hehe 

TRAVEL BUDDIES you would go anywhere with them and take tons of pics!! i mean the prettiest pics 

hao shows his love for you in the form of so many things, all of which he makes himself!! you inspire his physical art and drawings which he shares with you and he also loves to take clothes too and personalize them for you! 

jun on the other hand would take you to the studioooo and you could watch him danceee oh my gosh he’s literally so breathtaking and he would be dancing just for you with every curve of his body he’s so magical :’) then he’d ask you for feedback and you’d just be speachless...also loves to make you smile!! just being his goofy self he’s the best at it and thinks you’re so cute! 

there’s a ton of adoration in this relationship! tons of cute little displays of skinship that might look like a poke in the cheek or the fluffing of their hair ahh 

still, i feel like you would have kind of silly little nicknames for them that match their personalities and perhaps...you could have matching phone cases with these nicknames.... 

in this relationship there’s a ton of quiet moments that are really peaceful and indulgent such as watching sunsets, drinking wine together, just talking about life n stuff like that! 

nsfw 

hellz yeah we’re in for some more intimate-ass fuckin! but also....😏

this boys are kinky as shit but in like a really classy ass way lolll this is so hard to put into words. 

well, i’ll start with junhui catboy agenda so there’s that hehehe he would most def be into pet play: that could be like ears or pretty collars and of course calling you (or him) kitten. 

minghao is really versatile and doesn’t really like labels of dom and sub, he just does what he wants and what feels good to him! bc we’re talking about how intimate everything is, the kind of sex that you share with them is often never rushed but really purposeful and even planned sometimes! 

i also see there being TONS of sensory items that would come into play with junhao such as flowers, fragrances, aphrodisiacs, all kinds of fabrics for sensory deprovision such as velvet, silk, hemp rope, and so much more! 

BOTH OF THEM WOULD SOUND ANGELLIC i see hao as letting out really pretty soft moans that kind of trail on his tongue and jun sort of choking out gasps with a bit of a rasp to them when they cum or they feel turned on

oh god MIRROR SEX that's what i have to say about this 

it doesn’t happen often, but sometimes when any one of you would be feeling needy or pent up they can certainly do hard and fast with you between the two of them. especially when this happens, oh my god hao loves it when you moan really breathily into his mouth when you’re pressed against him ooooh shit 

and jun loves it when you bite into his shoulder too when he fucks you it just makes him feral 

actually, i could really see the three of you recording yourselves, or even taking pictures when you have more intimate moments to look at later, just for your own enjoyment or to get off when you’re without the others 

favorite position: hmmm mirror sex with you on top of minghao literally just kissing him and marking his body as jun eats you out until you’re dripping down to minghao’s cock which he jerks off too~ 

♡  yeonbin  ♡

sfw 

DON’T TOUCH ME IM SOFT  

admittedly i don’t know too much about this pairing but i do know a lil so i wanted to add them!! i also did a lil research hehe 

FIRST i would like to say that the three of you would without a doubt have the cutest puppy together, if not one, then two!! they would be little dogs with perfect haircuts and likely have their own instagram account which the three of you would run! they’d be instragram famous of course 

LITERALLY EVERY DAY ITS A FIGHT OVER WHOS CUTEST i kid you not this is an ongoing battle you’re all just...so weak for the other ahaha 

being in a relationship with them is like being in a relationship with your bestfriends! 

dates with the two of them can really range all over the place bc you just like having fun together! movie dates, breakfast dates, ZOO OR AQUARIUM DATES, taking little trips to places you haven’t been before or stay at home dates like having a little indoor picnic! 

soobin is really low energy, and would often opt to hang out with you at home or at a cafe while the two of you do your thing together! he lovessss when you bake or cook for him, literally whatever it is he’ll eat it! 

his smile is instant serotonin and the reason why you fell in love with him! the two of them together all smiley is your lockscreen! 

yeonjunie prefers going out with you clothes shopping and would DEF enable you to dye your hair a color that you’ve always been dying to do! he also loves showing you new music and blushes like heck when you tell him that you like the songs that he picks! 

in their own playful ways too, they’d always call you out on your bs LOLL but they just wanna motivate you! they’re your biggest cheerleaders! 

Deep down though, both of them are quite cheesy and would love to shower you with alll the stereotypical romance that you can take even if it makes all three of you cringe ahahah 

nsfw

NEEEEDY and literally so mf horny on the dl like it’s comical to how soft and shy they can be in real life situations 

oh my god this is a godly thought but i see both of them being both switchy as heck but not really bc they like how it feels to be in those different postions but literally....bc no matter what it is they are getting off lolll 

i see both of them having sub leanings but can get real bratty if they’re feeling it. 

yeonjun does have a dom side to him that just comes with his general confidence that he gets around you! when either of you beg from him he’s ready to let himself loose. 

im so sorry but they literally handed pet play to me on a silver platter with cat & dog and there is no going back for me. SO you’re in for puppy, kitty and bunny play (shhhh yeonjun’s got his fox ears too) 

WHY AM I THINKING ABOUT HOW ALL OF YOU WOULD LIKE THIGH HIGHS

both of them love being edged to high hell by you...no matter if it hurts...they kinda like it? 

at the same time, both of your boyfriends also love giving you all the attention at times too! i’m talking about one of them playing with your breasts while the other trails kisses down your body all the way down to your pussy aching for attention too

FUCK this might be just me but soobin eating you out>>>> a GODLY sight. 

i have this other fantasy of yeonjun with either lip piercings or nipple piercings or even a dick piercing someone plz tell me to calm down 

oh please...bubble bath with the two of them holy shit baby pink bubbles all around you while you take turns givin’ each other cute kisses ahhhh 

one more thing to the pile here would be hella mutual masturbation soo much of it. the three of you get off just simply watching eachother too and dirty talking how much you love the way the others look with hands rubbing themselves away with cute whiny moans~ 

♡ taekook ♡

sfw 

omg! this is my first time remotely talking about bts on my blog hehe this is so exciting!! i don’t really read too much bts ff so this is going off of my own perception! 

i just wanna say....there’s so much to unpack here LOL but like many of the soulmates on this list, these boys are ~whipped~ for you and eachother!! its so stinkin’ cute 

another thing about these expensive boyfriends is that they loooove to sing for you too! they’d sing you to sleep, when you’re sick, sad, or just had a hard day allllways hehe 

the three of you have sickeningly adorable nicknames for eachother, the kind that honestly make heads turn LOL 

jk would without a doubt get tattoos with you!! and wine drunk lollll he’s also a huge enabler so if there’s anything that you’re considering buying or doing he’d hype you up so bad you barely have to think twice heheh 

kinda like junhao they’d also make amazing travel buddies but less for the aesthetic, but for the luxury. you’d stay at amazing hotels and eat at Michelin star restaurants wearing luxury brands that they bought for you

i feel like this goes without saying, buuuut in this r/ship, its alll about the adoring glances from afar or even just right next to you bc they love you so much!! 

i also get a very protective vibe from them as well, you’re very special to them, and they never wanna see you in harms way or disrespected by anyone! this could even look like having their arm around you on the bus or on the small of your back in a crowd 

together, they’re the biggest jokesters and flirty as HELL they think that it’s so funny when they flirt out in public AGRESSIVELY just to make you a lil embarrassed hehe  

forehead kissessss and kisses on the back of your hand! 

nsfw 

luxurious in this area tooooo 

they would rent out the penthouse or presidential suite to make an evening for you and pull out all the stops: expensive champagne, lingerie selected just for you, a breathtaking view of the city ahhhh 

ya all know how much i love my soft and intimateeee body touching and there would be plenty of this! they take their time undressing you and eachother and would plant kisses into the nape of your neck and shoulders as you do so! 

i would like to contribute to this conversation sub!jk bc this is something that ahhhhh i really like to think about as well as soft dom tae bcccc why not heheh 

these boys are utterly gorgeous under soft lighting and prowling all over your body too tho ahhh 

BUT! imagine teasing the hell out of jk, barely letting him feel your mouth besides fleeting kisses while tae drives his hips into you from behindddd 

in fact, these boys actually don’t mind a little voyeurism with the wide windows in your suite, opting to leave them open so there's a bit of thrill in the way that they fuck you too~ 

tae has a bit of...dare i sayyyy a power kink, so when you call him names such as sir, daddy, master etc oh boy 

jk himself is bit into sensory dep specifically with blindfolds especially when its your hands travelling all around his body making him shiver. 

both of them just looove cuming all over you as well: face, ass, thighs, belly, literally anywhere, they just think that you look amazing like that! 

there are a couple times here and there when the three of you also do a bit of cam work together for other people to watch--although it isn’t often, you rake it in when you do so. the three of you are a perfect fantasy! 

sex also can happen in odd places with you three too since you can just start feeling it and don’t really care ;) strangest place....hmm i’d say when you joined the mile high club with them~ 

~🌹~

Bunch of (Ro)ses! 

@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @lunarskzzz  @yourdaddychan @bubblelixie @spnobsessedmemes @lmhmins @eunaeiekim

#PHEW #hehe this took me so much longer than expected ahhh #but i'm so happy with the result! #skz smut #stray kids smut #kpop smut #the boyz smut #tbz smut #ateez smut #atz smut #monsta x smut #mx smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #bts smut #txt smut #tomorrow by together smut #bang chan smut #felix smut #san smut #wooyoung smut #jacob bae smut #kevin moon smut #im smut #changkyun smut #jooheon smut #choi soobin smut #yeonjun smut #jungkook smut #taehyung smut