#this is one of my favorite images of all time

[bunni-v1]

May we get some crk thoughts, my liege? I too have a hyperfixation—

Shadow Milk Cookie Headcannons (SFW & NSFW)

🍓Thank you for the excuse to write this shit, I feel less insane being asked to do it lol. I still think this might taint my public image, so lets hope none of my future employers fuck with tumblr. Anyway only smc since he's who I'm obsessing over. I was gonna add pv, but I write wayyyy too much to include both of them on one post. Maybe I'll do him if someone asks nicely. I'll have a mix of both sfw and nsfw so beware lol.

MDNI (I'll find u)

TW: Shadow Milk Cookie; Obsessive behaviors; Stalking mentioned; Nsfw under the cut; unedited

Info: Shadow Milk Cookie x Reader; Sfw & Nsfw headcannons

Credit for Beast Bite Idea: @rollingeevee (go give them love I adore this AU)

-To start I'm gonna say, he's insane, like genuinely. He leans into a lot of yandere-esque behaviors, but I firmly believe he's not a full-on yandere, just really fucked up in the head (trauma and such, poor thing, wah wah wah.)

-Pre-Corruption Shadow Milk surely had a lot of admirers, but admiration is very different from genuine love and connection. He was, in a very literal sense, on a different level than all the cookies on earthbread. He's immortal, a god meant to care for all cookies, romantic relationships with cookies (other than the other heroes) just aren't an option in his mind. (For the sake of these, none of the beasts have had any romantic interaction with him, because I don't wanna deal with that can of worms rn.)

-All that to say, it's highly unlikely he has much experience in relationships. Maybe he's had flings, and some sexual encounters, but I doubt he would commit to someone he would inevitably lose to time. And, sure, he certainly could artificially extend their lifetime... but that's unethical and unfair to his partner. The burden of immortality is not one a regular cookie is baked to bear.

-So when he is inevitably corrupted and sealed away, romance isn't really a thought on his mind. He's very fixated on escaping that stupid tree and enacting his revenge. Which he does, at least in part, and with his freedom comes half of his powers and ensuing chaos.

-There are not many ways he could meet you if I'm quite honest, so I'll leave that up to personal interpretation. However you do meet him, though, you have to be intriguing. He gets bored of people easily, so you have to stand out -- be that in your demeanor or the way you speak or how you challenge him, it just has to be interesting. Once he's interested he's hooked.

-He's rather... mmm... obsessive? He likely stalks you for a while before he makes any moves. He wants to learn your patterns, the cookies you surround yourself with, the things you like, your job, your favorite foods, what flowers you like, and how do you feel about his chaos? He'll even manipulate things around you, just to see how you might react. (Is it fucked up? Yeah, lol! But isn't it equally endearing? He seems to think so.)

-You have frequent reoccurring dreams about him in this period of time. You've only seen him from a distance at this point, but you can't quite shake him from your thoughts. What's very important here is that you realize that your thoughts are not your own. Acknowledge that he's watching, and make sure that he's aware you're aware. Be that by purposefully doing something he could recognize as acknowledgment, or outright saying that you're aware he's messing with you. He values curiosity and intelligence in a person, if you can break yourself out of his cycle he's 100% sold on you.

-It doesn't take much longer after that for him to make his first official appearance. Bowing gracefully in front of you as he materializes from thin air, smiling like a man driven mad by infatuation.

-Believe it or not, he's really not all that creepy or pushy. He's very playful and charming, and while you have the knowledge he'd been watching you for a long time at this point, it's hard not to fall for him. He flirts with an ease that no other cookie really has, and he's so very funny never failing to get a smile out of you at his jokes.

-Now, this may go against what others characterize him as a lot, but I don't believe he's the type to steal you away and lock you up. Shadow Milk is a cookie who wants to be wanted, he doesn't want his feelings to be entirely one-sided, it would really hurt him to pour himself into someone who does not want to reciprocate his passions.

-He's unbelievably patient with you. Despite what the mental manipulation from earlier implies, he allows you to set the pace and make the moves, mostly nudging you gently in the direction he wants you to go now that he has your attention. Again, he wants you to choose him. He wants you to love him, so he will happily wait as long as it takes for you to realize and accept your longing for him.

-He gives you the flowers you like, and listens to you talk about your exceedingly boring days (with rapt attention, of course, he loves listening to you talk as much as he loves talking). If you ask, he'll take you anywhere you'd like to go on earthbread with a snap of his fingers, showing you sights you'd only dreamed of seeing. (Whether or not these are illusions are still up for debate).

-It's very hard not to fall for him with all this considered, and he knows that of course. He was just waiting for you to confess, and you have to confess. He won't do it even if you make it clear you want him to. It's not something he'd ever admit to you -- or himself -- but he doesn't want to risk even the slightest bit of rejection. It would break him more than he's already been broken, so you'll have to do it for our poor little jester.

-When you do though? Oh, he's over the moon! Practically swooning as he scoops you up and spins you around in celebration. He's so overjoyed. He is wanted, there is someone in this world who loves him genuinely. There's no false platitudes or any worshipping done, just raw affection between the two of you. (Just the tiniest bit of manipulation at the start, but obviously you've dismissed and forgiven that at this point).

-Again, he doesn't immediately take you away from your life if you don't wish to be. He does heavily encourage you to come spend your days with him, though. He can take care of you, he's literally a god, you'll never ever want for anything so long as he can control it (which he can, duh).

-I feel it very important to emphasize that in a relationship with him, you are equal. Even if you literally cannot be equal in stature and power, you are equal in the relationship -- if anything you have more sway over him than he does over you. He's very, very in love with you, and he will do just about anything you ask of him so long as it doesn't interfere with obtaining his souljam.

-Having established that, let's get to the fun stuff.

-Shadow Milk Cookie is very physically and verbally affectionate. If you are around him it's likely he's touching you in some way. Whether that's him literally hanging off you like a baby monkey or just a hand on your arm, he likes to have a physical tether to you.

-Plenty of messy wet kisses all over your cute little face, he loves seeing you get all flustered and feeling your dough burn up from his barrage of affections.

-It's also very common for him to carry you around in various different styles. Over the shoulder, piggback, princess style, like a sack of potatoes... doesn't really matter. It's also a regular occurrence that you fall asleep as he floats around the spire of all knowledge. He doesn't need sleep, and he does not sleep often, but he likes holding you while you do so. It's proof of your trust in him, and he usually uses the time you are sleeping to be more genuinely affectionate. Soft words whispered in your ears bringing you sweet dreams as he runs his hands up and down your back, kissing the crown of your head with such love it would make a grown man blush.

-He calls you cute little nicknames, like shortcake or sweet thing. The most common, and his favorites, are doll/dolly and little star. (Little star is something he hums with such affection it makes you weak in the knees. You know he's feeling more adoring when he uses it.) Talks about how cute you are, how pretty you are, how desirable you are. How any cookie would be so lucky to have you -- too bad they could never compete with him!

-That being said, most of his affections are pretty surface-level stuff at the start of the relationship. At least, what you get to see. He has a hard time opening up to others, he's a very sensitive cookie deep down in his dough. It takes quite a while to get him out of his shell and start showing you who he is as himself.

-Who he is, is a very aching cookie. He lost so much, struggled with his own corruption, and still hasn't fully accepted it himself. He feels as though he has been betrayed and discarded by everything he once loved, it's no wonder he has a hard time showing you such ugly sides of himself.

-You warm him up, melt him slowly, and you get to see peaks of genuine love and adoration behind those heterochromatic eyes. He may never allow you to see all of him at once, but you do get to know him. If you continue to love him despite seeing the uglier side of things, there is a distinct shift in the way he showers you in affection.

-Initially, he's very showy with everything, his love is a spectacle for the two of you to watch. It's almost like he's put himself outside of the relationship rather than in it. After he opens up, it's quieter, more intimate. He's more involved in it, like it's less about showing you how much he loves you, and more about sharing that mutual feeling between the two of you.

-You didn't have much room to show him how much you cared for him, but now you do. He allows you to initiate physical affection and doesn't flinch away at the touch. He accepts your words of admiration for what they are, not questioning your intentions for any reason.

-Kisses are softer, more full of emotion. Less like he's drowning you and more like he's trying to swallow you up. Desperation to have you as close to him as possible can take him over quite frequently during make-out sessions, and they leave you breathless and fuzzy rather than burning and flustered.

-Now, you can't write Shadow Milk without acknowledging how fucking jealous he is all the time. Now, I believe it's less of a jealousy thing (though, that really is something that is frequent), and more of a possessive/protective thing.

-He doesn't get jealous of the average cookie, alright, not unless you show interest for whatever reason. They're not really a threat to him, and why would they be? He's secure enough to know that you wouldn't leave him for some random half-baked simpleton. HOWEVER, he DOES get jealous of the other beasts and especially Pure Vanilla Cookie.

-The other beasts aren't as powerful as him, but they're still powerful and cunning (some of them at least). Truly, on a level of divinity and ability to care for you, they are his closest competition. Even still, he only gets jealous if one of them seems to want to stake a claim on you, or you become too fascinated with one of them.

-If neither is the case, he highly encourages you to form relationships with them. They are cookies that, seemingly, he cares for. While they can be difficult to get along with, if you are someone Shadow Milk deems worth his time, you are someone they will also deem worth their time.

-Ah, I should also mention he gets... pouty about Black Sapphire and Candy Apple. He doesn't see either of them as a threat, so I couldn't say he's jealous... he just gets annoyed when you're being attentive to them when he's around. Black Sapphire is smart enough to set hard boundaries with you to start, for both of your sakes, but your relationship with him is very positive. You are Shadow Milk Cookies partner, after all, you're a very important Cookie and Black Sapphire has no reason to be unkind to you.

-Candy Apple Cookie on the other hand is the one who's jealous here. You find her positively adorable and her little crush on Shadow Milk is nothing but endearing in your eyes, but she very much is huffy about your relationship with him. Of course, she can't do anything to you, that would only turn against her in the end so she just pouts. You can win her over slowly, though, just by being sweet to her and comforting her when Shadow Milk rejects her once again.

-Your relationship with them seemingly pleases Shadow Milk, though you can't really tell if he's happy or not. Sometimes he seems pleased, other times he's pouty, so who really knows other than him.

-However, the cookie that really seriously gets under his skin the most is Pure Vanilla. He does everything in his power to keep the two of you as far away from one another as possible, but it's almost inevitable that you meet PV, especially when he becomes Truthless Recluse.

-Pure Vanilla is everything Shadow Milk is not. Kind, gentle, patient, soft-spoken, and of course truthful. He's very afraid you may meet PV and realize that you do not want to be with him anymore. You would rather have someone like Pure Vanilla Cookie to dote on you in a fashion that he cannot bring himself to do openly yet.

-Of course, you don't, but that doesn't stop the fear from seeping into his dough. The only way to ease him is by being patient and displaying your loyalty through and through. He won't really be calm until Pure Vanilla is take care of, but you can assure him that you won't be leaving him for his other half anytime soon.

-Circling back to his possessive and protective tendencies, Shadow Milk does see you as an object of his affection. He is fully aware you are your own cookie, you are not something he ever wishes to control entirely and remove autonomy from, but you are his. His to keep and love and protect.

-He's very obsessive about your well-being and happiness. If something hurts you (alive or not), it's gone, destroyed. He won't even make a show of it, it just disappears. If you are upset, he is there doing everything to make you feel better. Whatever you want, whatever you need! He's here for you, please rely on him (he needs you to rely on him).

-If you are out and about he keeps an eye on you, which you are aware of. It's rather obvious, so even if he doesn't tell you, you can feel him watching you. Ignoring it becomes easier with time, but if anything happens to you he wastes no time in popping up and taking care of whatever happens.

-This leads into my next headcanon (inspired by the ever-talented @rollingeevee go check them out!), he has a bite of sorts that he uses as a means of monitoring you. It's something he uses to pinpoint where you are at all times, even when he's not monitoring you actively. The bite acts as a connection between you and him, emotionally and physically tying the two of you together.

-You can feel what he feels through the bite, anger, sadness, joy, pretty much anything he feels you can feel. It also acts as a reminder to you that you should not stray too far from where he is, sending an uncomfortably heavy feeling through your dough. (This is a manifestation of his worry, and it only really happens when he notices you've gone somewhere a little too far from the safety of the spire).

-However, this goes both ways. He can also feel what you feel at the same intensity that you feel it. You can, likely less so, also tell where he is. There is a pull in the back of your mind from the magic telling you where to find him at all times, and it only lets go when you are in proximity of him. If you miss him, he feels the same heavy feeling in his dough reminding him that you would like him by your side.

-Now, finally, we have to address the topic of mortality. Shadow Milk is likely more aware than you ever will be of how mortal you really are. This is why he's so very protective and possessive of you, he doesn't want to lose you prematurely.

-However, if you are okay with it, he is completely fine with artificially extending your life span. In fact, he does it happily. He might even start doing it without asking if the topic hasn't been broached in a certain amount of time. He wants to spend as long as you'll allow him by your side, and if that means breaking a few rules of magic and cookie society then so be it. He's a god after all, he doesn't have to answer to anyone (other than the witches).

-Anyway, let's get to the shit you freaks are really here for. (Me, I'm freaks.)

-I don't really think sexual intimacy is something Shadow Milk desires all that much, but he more so likes it because it's... interesting? I'm sure he derives physical pleasure from sexual intercourse, but less so than the average cookie might. Most of his enjoyment comes from seeing you enjoy yourself.

-It goes without saying, but Shadow Milk Cookie is a freak. He's into pretty much anything under the sun (except maybe one thing...), and so long as you're down to try something he's happy to oblige you.

-He is a switch, but he leans dom most of the time, and you won't get him to sub early on in your relationship. That requires a bit too much trust for him, so he'll need time to be cool with giving you that kind of control over him. But he will bottom for you as your relationship progresses, and that's a whole different side to him.

-Lets start with him in a dominant role, though, since it's more common to get from him.

-Obviously, he's a tease, through and through. He loves to watch you squirm and react to the things he does. Tantalizingly light touches drawn over your dough, teeth grazing your soft body almost piercing but never quite getting deep enough, heated breath blown over your most sensitive spots but never relieving you with his mouth as you so desperately need.

-Truthfully he could spend another thousand years just tracing over you, committing each inch to memory until he's satisfied in knowing every inch of you. Unfortunately, (or fortunately), he's not nearly as patient in the bedroom as he is outside of it. Not with all of you on display for him, so trusting and open, ready for him to defile you. Oh, his sweet, sweet little dolly~

-Even with his impatience, his teasing does not stop. His hands continue to ghost over you, making sure you're still squirming even as he succumbs to his need to taste you.

-Oh, and tastes you he does. He doesn't have to subscribe to regular cookie physical limitations, so he somehow manages to swallow you whole. Jaw unhinging so he can get as much as he needs from you, tongue splitting itself to give you attention everywhere, and god is it long and dexterous. He can reach so very deep and it moves with such precision, it makes you cum embarrassingly fast.

-That is if he allows you to cum in the first place. He's a big fan of edging, which shouldn't be a surprise. He likes to get you so close, then deny you of your pleasure. Your whining and grumbling is the cutest thing on all of earthbread, don't you know? He can't help but edge you when you're so damn cute every time.

-Your pleasure is in his hands, and it requires such relinquishing of power and trust. In a weird way it makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside, especially when you thank him over and over once he finally allows you to come undone after hours of teasing.

-Speaking of, he is a big fan of being praised for the work he does on you. Your moans and pleas are reward enough, but if you mumble out about how good you feel, how much you love him, how amazing he is he'll become drunk on your praise. Chasing after it with fervor, meaning he's going down on you with so much more excitement somehow.

-He's into blood (jam?) play. He likes leaving physical reminders of your relationship all over your body (yes, even ur vag/dick if you let him). With how sharp his teeth are, it's impossible for you not to bleed when he does so, and he does really like the sight of your jam. It's so pretty and so different from his own, another reminder of how different you are, and how much you trust him. (He'll lick it up and purr at the taste.)

-Bruises are also littered about your dough, his grip on you is tight, like you might slip away from him. The treatment is rough and harsh, but it feels so nice to be manhandled by him. The bruises are just nice little reminders of who you belong to. (He gets all proud when other cookies worry about them, like he's done something worthy of praise).

-He likes watching, he's very much a voyeur. Occasionally requests that you pleasure yourself for him so he can watch you struggle to get off, and he'll only help you out when you're near tears begging him.

-He prefers coming across you by himself, without having to request it. Or just feeling waves of pleasure through your bite. He'll watch you quietly fuck yourself without letting you know he's there. (Though, you most certainly can feel his eyes on you, that's what makes it so fun right?) Sometimes he'll join you after, and other and times he'll leave you be, it's 50/50 either way and regardless you still end up happy.

-If anyone else walks in on you when you're alone, he's very unpleasant. Accident or not they'll learn to be more aware of their surroundings next time.

-That doesn't mean he's against being watched though. Actually, he finds the idea of someone else seeing how well he treats you enticing (especially if it's someone like Pure Vanilla hehe). If you are together and someone walks in (or spots you in public), he won't stop. Instead, he'll lock eyes with them and smile big and wide, showing off his favorite little dolly for them.

-He's just so proud of you, and you're so very pretty beneath him, the whole world should get to see how you fall apart for him. He'll even make you look at them just to see how you fluster.

-If the offender tries to do anything other than watch, though, well... I really hope they didn't want to live for much longer. He's very much not a sharer, at all. The idea of anyone even thinking they could touch you and make you feel good both makes him laugh and want to tear them apart at once.

-He's very much into roleplaying and can get really into it. To the point, it loses the sexiness and is just the two of you playing around, which can be a bummer but is usually really fun. He likes things that lean into power dynamics but explicitly avoids god/king and worshipper/subject. A little too close to home for him, and would honestly be too boring and basic for him.

-He loves it when you dress up for him in pretty little outfits, be it lingerie or something more cutesy, he adores it regardless. Going out of your way to pretty up for him is a huge turn-on. He also loves it when you let him dress you up how he likes. Regardless of what you're wearing, it's not coming off the whole night. It will get ruined and he won't apologize for it. Besides, he can just replace it, right?

-Sex is more fun for him, but he can be intimate when he wants to be. Usually, when you're in control, he is at his most gentle. Yes, he's a brat when he bottoms and he'll fight you tooth and nail, but once you get him to submit he's the softest and sweetest you've ever seen him.

-He looks at you like you're the god, wide eyes taking in everything you do with such admiration it might make you crumble on the spot.

-He's much quieter, treating it less like a spectacle. Moans soft and squeaky, like he's not used to using his voice in such a way. He clings to you like a vice at each little movement, almost afraid you might disappear if he lets you go.

-Oh, and he praises you so much. 'So good', 'Thank you', 'You're perfect', and 'I love you' all tumble from him with such genuine gratitude.

-Being allowed to let his guard down and have you take control is cathartic for him, which is why it's so uncommon to have it happen. It's why he fights you for control so hard because this is an intimacy he isn't used to. It is hard for him to allow you to see him so weak, but you never use it against him. You're so very sweet and loving, and it makes him melt like butter in your grasp.

-If you have the bite I mentioned earlier, it only makes things so much more intense. Both of you can feel the raw emotion connecting the two of you, making the pleasure heighten further.

-In fact, when he gives you the bite it's the first time he allows you to top him. To connect you to him makes him very vulnerable, so he would naturally have to be in a vulnerable state already when he does so.

-It's unlike any of his other bites, it's far more painful when he initially bites down, but when his magic flows through it your body feels light and airy. The pleasurable feeling wrapping itself around your spine, and you feel what he's feeling. All that adoration pours into your being at once, and it's overwhelming to really feel how much he loves you.

[xylatox]

Loving you is forever, a Lee Heeseung fic by Kiki :) I'm so excited to finally read it!!

(I reblogged this on the wrong account for a sec lmfao oops)

I just wanna say, her daughter's names being Heejin and having the same starting syllables as Heeseung is so cute whether it was intentional or not. And her nickname being Bambi:(((( I bet she has boba eyes like her dad, this is so cute:((

karina is your best friend, sister even, you have known each other since you were little, even though she was only a few months older than you she was often that older sister you never had, guiding you through new experiences together and you just wished that when you grew up together, you realized sooner that she was also navigating those new experiences alongside you.— already loving the sisterly bond she has with Karina despite not being blood related. Reader staying in Seattle 👀 I wonder what's her relationship with Jay lol, I can't help but think about it.

Omg they're cousins😭 that is so cute, I already love the calm and chaotic duo vibes they have going on thats so heartwarming.—when you got in trouble for getting a C- on your chemistry exam, jay vouched for you and said that the chemistry teacher at your high school was sexist and punished all the girls in the class. — LMFAO😭😭😭 no but if a teacher ever did this that's actually insane. I love seeing all the memories reader and Jay have shoeing how deep their relationship is, it's so cute.

His relationship with his niece is so cute too like, the nicknames🥹🥹 I'm softly.—“yes… bambi. it’s her favorite movie so i nicknamed her bambi…” you respond, trying to avoid his stare. “no other reason?” he asks and you shoot him a glare. “alright alright. i’ll drop it. it’s a cute nickname anyway.” he confesses and you mutter a small thank you, thankful that he’s not prying any longer. — Jay and I on the same wavelength frfr.

Getting the history between reader and Hee:(((( omg, I'm so sad and the fact that only Jay knows Hee is the dad ahhhh :((

she looks up at you with her big doe eyes and for a second you see the uncanny resemblance of her and her father. “mama, who is my dad?” the question comes as a shock to you because although she had asked before, she’s never let the absence of her father trouble her the way it has now. your mouth slightly opens at her question but you quickly recollect yourself so she doesn’t notice your demeanor falter, afraid that your expression could cause her more worry if she was to realize how you reacted to her question. — going to cry my eyes out, poor baby :(((((

even if it made him feel crazy because love makes you do crazy things. — Hee is so in love with her I'll sob.—you were truly the girl of his dreams and now that you were back; he wasn’t going to let you go so easily like last time. — we love a man who's dedicated. It makes me wonder if reader was afraid or misunderstood things causing her to leave :((( seeing how he dealt with things when she left breaks my heart sm.

you were a bit upset, especially because jay was the one that knew what happened with everything out of all of the people in your life. you made sure to bring this up to your cousin when you had the chance, keeping in mind that jay would get a piece of your mind about this. — reader is so cute, but I definitely think confrontation is best and getting clarity and closure.

“are you ok, yn?” heeseung asked and his voice sounded muffled to you and as he scooted closer, the image of heeseung in your vision blurred and doubled like he was a mirage. you were starting to get light headed and that was when you knew that you were going to faint, the anxiety had taken over your brain and before you knew it your eyes were fluttering closed and heeseung was catching you in his arms before your body could fall over onto the coffee table. — wait omg, this is such a real response, like, I didn't know it happened to others but my anxiety attacks are the exact same way😭

Now the full backstory is known:((( I understand reader's perspective and I absolutely don't blame her for thinking she's a rebound, that's so sad no :( it's just a big misunderstanding, but it will take time to deal with that too but I love that she invited him to Heejin's birthday.

“you know.. not to be a conspiracy theorist but doesn’t heejin look like.. heeseung?” winter asks, whispering to sunghoon as she walks a bit closer to him. “no, i see it too. also, the nickname? we used to say heeseung looks like a baby deer all the time when we were in college and yn nicknamed her daughter bambi?” sunghoon adds and winter looks at him like he’s just spilled the deepest secret one can hold. — it absolutely took them long enough to realize it imo😭

Heejin calling Heeseung dad by mistake and him not even knowing its his child yet, my heart can't take it.

Omg, I absolutely loved the ending, I loved how they resolved their misunderstandings and just became a completed family. Their dynamic is so cute and I'm so glad they got their happy ending.

loving you is forever ⋆˚ʚɞ

pairing: lee heeseung x reader 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ ♡

synopsis: after a one night stand leaves you with a lasting memory of the boy you left behind in the name of your daughter, heejin. you finally decide that it was time to move back home to south korea after living abroad for the last 5 years. reuniting with your old friends was everything you could've wished for as they welcomed you and your daughter; but you don't think you could ever prepare yourself to face the father of your child.

warnings: profanity, kissing, suggestive, mentions of hooking up/one night stands, drinking, characters are in their late 20s, absent father!heeseung (but its not his fault) implying that they didn't use a condom (wrap it up!!), overall 18+

genre: single mom!reader x heeseung, old friends to lovers, kind of exes to lovers, one night stand, angst, romance, drama, hurt/comfort, slow burn-ish

wc: 16558 (idk what happened i swear i blanked out writing this)

hoonieyun notes: she's finally here djfkd it took so long to finish this because i didn't want to rush it and feel like i just had to get it done to get it done. i really hope you all enjoyed this piece of work, i loved writing it and i just want to say: happy valentine's day!! you are all so deserving to be loved and surrounded by those who love you <3

the days of being in seoul, south korea felt just like yesterday when you were a college student awake at 3am eating a hot bowl of ramen after a long night of studying. ramen was your favorite thing back then but as you’ve gotten older, the days of being a broke college student turned into meticulous routine based days where all your focus went to raising your daughter, heejin. 

ramen was your favorite, past tense. 

you cut the habit of eating ramen so often because you needed to choose healthier options for yourself, setting an example for your daughter that although convenient and inexpensive, eating instant ramen so often wasn’t the healthiest for you. 

even though you were her mom, your daughter taught you a lot and you were constantly learning as you grew together. she taught you new habits that made living better like learning to take it easy and lounging around the house with your favorite snacks while watching your favorite show was the best way to clear your head and relax. 

you also learned that your previous lifestyle of putting others over yourself was something that would stay with you as you’d do anything for your daughter even if it meant that you sacrifice things that are meant for you if it means that your daughter would have what she wanted. 

the air when stepping outside of the airport is crisp, the snow has melted into a thin layer of water coating the ground and it’s slightly cold but nothing a puffer coat couldn’t fix. you looked over to your daughter who was fiddling with the zipper on her own puffer coat, “bambi, you have to keep your jacket on or you’ll get sick.” you softly tell your daughter as you crouch down to her level, zipping her coat back up and adjusting the hood of her hoodie that she had layered under. she pouts to herself but ultimately knows better than to argue because she knows mom is right and because she hates being sick. 

when heejin was 4 years old, she had gotten a cold for the first time and although she enjoyed being at home cuddled up under a fuzzy blanket with her favorite plush toy; she hated having a runny nose and being forced to take the yucky medicine, her words not yours– although you agree. 

your phone rings and karina’s contact photo lights up on the screen, “hi, yn! i’m here, what pick-up area are you at?” she asks on the other end of the phone, slightly louder than usual so you assume she’s yelling into her car’s built in phone call feature to avoid having to drive with her phone in her hand. you tell her that you’re at arrivals 12 and soon enough you can see karina driving up to you and heejin in her silver suv. karina is your best friend, sister even, you have known each other since you were little, even though she was only a few months older than you she was often that older sister you never had, guiding you through new experiences together and you just wished that when you grew up together, you realized sooner that she was also navigating those new experiences alongside you. 

“yn!! it’s been so long!!!” karina cheers as she steps out of her car, rounding the vehicle to give you a warm hug, rocking the two of you side to side as you wrap your own arms around her. “been too long.” she says, emphasizing the words like you were away for a long time. in a lot of ways you were. 5 years is a lot of time away from someone but to you those 5 years went by so much faster.

“is this heejin?” she asks, crouching down to your daughter so she can greet the child. “hi heejin, im aunt karina but you can call me rina, ok?” she says, softly shaking heejin’s small hand with two fingers. “hi auntie rina!” heejin says happily, throwing her hands into the air with a smile. 

your daughter was probably the most cheerful and joyful child you’ve ever met. she never threw fits, rarely cried after the age of 2, and was very social with strangers. flashing her cute smile that would instantly melt stranger’s hearts garnering you a, “such a cute baby!” every time they’d see her. 

karina stands back up straight and helps you pack your luggage into her trunk, “is this all you brought?” she asks and you explain that you didn’t want to pack too many things because moving with a lot of belongings would make it difficult. you had only flown with 4 suitcases and had 2 boxes shipped over from your old home. opting to only take what truly was important and other material things could simply just be repurchased. 

you and karina share another hug before strapping your daughter into her carseat and taking a seat into the passenger side of the car. you and karina catch up like no time has passed, acting like you two were only separated for a few days when in reality it was 5 years. of course the two of you spoke on the phone every now and then while you were abroad but the time difference interfered. 

“how was seattle? do you miss it already?” she asks and you have to think about the question. do you miss seattle? or were you happy to be back. 

“i'm not sure to be honest. i don’t think ive been away long enough to miss it yet.” you simply say and she nods, “well i know you must’ve seoul. i know we missed you.” she says, glancing over to you 

you smile at her remark and tell her that you’ve missed korea and her a lot. those 5 years in seattle went by fast because of your daughter but being away from all of your friends and even your parents was tough. you stayed with your aunt and uncle who lived in seattle who so kindly opened their home for you and 2 years after giving birth to heejin, you had enough saved up to get the two of you a small but perfect 1 bedroom apartment. it was enough for the two of you but to your daughter it was like she was living in a castle; and that’s all that mattered– knowing your daughter was happy. 

“you ok?” karina asks and you’re brought back to reality. “yeah, just reminiscing i guess.” you respond and karina chuckles. 

“don’t tell me you’re already thinking about going back? you can’t leave just yet, i’m not letting you go.” karina retorts and the two of you burst out into laughter. you reassure her that you weren’t going to leave korea any time soon and that you’d have ample amount of time together to catch up and make so many more memories. 

“plus, i’ve got 5 years to catch up with my favorite niece. right, heejin?” she asks, looking over to your daughter in the rearview mirror. “yes aunty rina!” heejin says cheerfully. you laugh at them both and give karina a funny look, “she’s your only niece dude.” you say and karina shrugs, “and? she’s still my favorite!”. 

the rest of the car ride is filled with more chit chatting and laughing, happy that the two of you are finally reunited and that you weren’t separated by thousands of miles. soon enough karina is pulling up to your home and she’s quite impressed. while living in the states you had saved enough money to purchase a beautiful home here in seoul. 

it’s not the biggest but it has everything you need for you and your daughter. it has 2 rooms and 2 bathrooms, an office space for your work, a big living room with enough space for your daughter to run around in and a backyard for the same reasons. you were happy to have gotten to this point in your life and you were so happy to have a life like this with your daughter. 

karina doesn’t stay long after dropping you off, only staying to help you bring in your things, and do a small tour of your home. “i promise i’ll come back tomorrow! i’ve just got some things i need to finish for work.” she explains and you let her know that it’s fine and thank her endlessly for picking up you and your daughter from the airport. you and heejin wave her goodbye as she drives away. 

you walk back inside still carrying heejin on your hip. “alright, bambi. it’s just you and me, and our new home.” you say softly and heejin smiles at you. 

“just you and me mama!” she says and it makes you smile as you nuzzle your nose with hers. 

⋆˚ʚɞ

the next few days are filled with unpacking boxes, waiting for deliveries of furniture and food, and exploring the neighborhood and town. your car was delivered on your 2nd day back in seoul so thankfully you didn’t have to wait around at home or feel guilty of asking karina to drive you around places since she had her own fair share of responsibilities. 

your other friends have asked you when they could come visit, especially your cousin; jay– who said, “i can’t believe you let karina see my niece and she’s not even blood!” when he found out karina met your daughter before your cousin. 

karina was like your sister but jay was actually blood. jay is your cousin on your mom’s side and you had stayed with his parents while living in seattle until you were able to get a place of your own. he’s a few years younger than you but he was always the wiser of the two of you; he was like the angel on the shoulder of life while you were the devil– however you weren’t evil… just chaotic. 

you, jay, and karina all grew up together so you all had a bond that's unbreakable. people often made comments about how jay was the gentleman he is because of all the women he grew up around and you’d agree. he was the kindest and most mature boy you know and even when he loosened up a bit and got chaotic like you, he was always the level-headed and mature jongseong at the end of the day. 

when you would sneak out with boys in high school, jay would cover for you. 

when you got in trouble for getting a C- on your chemistry exam, jay vouched for you and said that the chemistry teacher at your high school was sexist and punished all the girls in the class. 

when you found out you were pregnant, jay was the first person you called and was right by your side every step of the way up until you were boarding the plane to seattle. 

jay was your rock and you wished he was your brother but a cousin would suffice just as long as he was always there for you. 

you’re about 90% moving into your new home, the last thing that needs to be completed was just tossing out all of the trash and recycling that has accumulated from all of the items you bought or takeout that you’ve been getting so you didn’t have to worry about cooking for the first week of moving back. 

you’ve invited jay over for dinner after he’s insisted on cooking dinner for you and your daughter, claiming that he wants to make a good impression on his niece so he wasn’t necessarily going to take no as an answer, and honestly– a home cooked meal by jay sounded nice. he was a great cook, excellent even, you? not so much. 

you knew how to cook a variety of things but most of it was out of convenience so that you weren’t always eating takeout. your daughter was simple when it came to her taste buds and favorite foods, 80% of the time she just wants to eat chicken and thankfully she doesn’t complain much about having to eat vegetables. however, never brussel sprouts. she hates brussel sprouts. 

it’s around 5PM when you’ve finished putting all of your trash bags outside, giving you just a half hour to freshen up your daughter and you before jay would be arriving. he felt apologetic for not being able to help you move in but you told him that he had nothing to feel sorry for and that you knew he had a busy schedule ever since he took over his dad’s company at the beginning of the year. jay’s dad owned a construction company in seoul and although jay had different passions like music and fashion, he was the type of child to never refuse his parent’s wishes and eventually accepted that he would become the owner when he grew up so there was no point in arguing with his dad. 

he was an only child so it was hard not to feel bad for him and see that he had so many things he wanted to do for his life but was often shortsighted and left responsible for whatever his parents wanted because he was their only child. 

that was probably why you often felt like you needed to bring jay out of shell and loosen up a bit. being so caught up with the responsibilities he had at home, you wanted to make sure that he still had fun as a teenager because his life as an adult was already planned out for him. 

when jay turned 16 you spent all of your christmas money on a guitar he had been talking about for months. jay rarely cried but you remember the pure joy and gratitude in his eyes when he unwrapped the box and saw the familiar leather case he had seen so many times at the guitar shop. you swore you could see his eyes glow from excitement when he unclasped the guitar case and finally saw the instrument on the inside. the fender eric clapton stratocaster electric guitar shined onto his face and you’d never forget the smile on his face as he set aside the guitar next to him so he could get up and give you a hug. telling you how grateful he was and that no one would know how much that gift meant to him besides you. 

after changing yourself and your daughter into a fresh pair of clothes, jay was ringing your doorbell. he barely greets you when you answer the door, placing the bags of ingredients into your arms when you open them for a hug and instead he runs into your home to scoop up his niece into his arms. 

“jinjin!” jay says as he carries her above his head. a nickname they both came up with whenever they’d facetime. 

“uncle jayjay!” she says, giggling at him as he gently tossed her into the air and hugged each other. “yeah i’m here too y’know!” you say, narrowing your eyes at your cousin as you put the bag of groceries down onto your kitchen counter. 

“yn-ieee!!” jay says, setting your daughter down onto the counter next to the groceries and giving you a hug of your own. “been so long cousin!” he says and you hum in agreement. 

“well it’s not like you couldn’t come visit me in seattle!” you say teasingly and jay rolls his eyes, “oh, please! you wouldn’t even let me no matter how hard i tried– plus you know how busy i got after dad passed over the company.” he says and although he didn’t mean it in that way, you felt a slight tinge of guilt. 

“i know, i know jong, just teasing. i missed you.” you say, hugging him again but this time ruffling his hair like you used to do when you were younger. 

“so what’s on the menu today, chef?” you ask as you help him unpack the groceries. 

“yeah, uncle. jinjin hungry!” your daughter says and you and your cousin laugh at your daughter’s remark. as she’s gotten older and has begun watching toddler shows, she’s picked up on their habits of speaking in 3rd person. 

“well, jinjin. uncle jayjay is going to make you ravioli and meatballs. sound good?” he asks, staring at your daughter with a box of ravioli pasta in his hand. 

“ravioli?” she asks and jay nods.

“right, you’re 5; you don’t know what that is.” he mutters and you just chuckle. 

“come on, heejin. why don’t we set up the table while uncle cooks, hmm?” you ask and she nods eagerly– always excited to be a part of the activity in some way or another just as long as she’s included. 

“i want the pink plate!” heejin says as she raises her arms so you could pick her up off the counter and set her on the ground. while you and heejin were at ikea shopping for home supplies, she saw a pink plate with the face of a pig on the top and the tail on the bottom and just had to have it. and honestly, your daughter looked so cute looking at it that you couldn’t say no. as a matter of fact, the plate wasn’t even very expensive and it was cute so it wasn’t a hard decision to say yes. 

jay doesn’t take long to finish cooking dinner; knowing to choose something quick and easy to make so that he could feed the two of you and so he could have ample time to hang out with his niece. 

needless to say, heejin loved the ravioli and was completely baffled at how they got the cheese inside of the pasta– constantly asking jay how they did it as if it was some sort of magical spell to create a ravioli. 

after dinner is over and your daughter insists on dessert, the three of you enjoy some ice cream even though it’s still winter and with jay’s help in convincing you because “ice cream tastes good in every season”. you offered to wash the dishes since jay cooked you dinner and although he insisted on washing the dishes, you told him that it was okay since he could spend more time with his niece instead– to which he didn’t argue. 

the rest of the night was filled with giggles as jay got to hang out with his niece outside of a phone screen. learning so much about her and how similar he was to you. he even got the opportunity to put her to bed when she got sleepy after watching bambi, her favorite movie. 

“bambi, huh?” he asks after the two of you quietly slip out of her bedroom.

“yes… bambi. it’s her favorite movie so i nicknamed her bambi…” you respond, trying to avoid his stare. 

“no other reason?” he asks and you shoot him a glare. “alright alright. i’ll drop it. it’s a cute nickname anyway.” he confesses and you mutter a small thank you, thankful that he’s not prying any longer. 

“i know, she’s cute like a baby deer, what can i say?” 

you and jay find your way into the kitchen, putting away the dishes from the dishwasher and beginning a new topic of conversation. 

“does everyone know you’re back?” jay asks genuinely, not intending to allude to a certain person from your past. 

“yeah, karina and ningning know. i spoke to jake and hoon yesterday and i told them i’d come up with a day they could all come over for dinner.” you explain. 

you had a close friend group going into college. you, karina, and jay all grew up together and early during college you had met ningning, jake, sunghoon, and another… friend. 

the seven of you were inseparable and were always together despite having completely different college majors. you, ningning, and karina all moved in together for the last half of your college career while the guys did the same. you’re all older now and have all of your own lives but most of them kept in touch with you after you decided to move away all of a sudden. 

opting to not ask questions out of respect but always making sure to check up on you every once in a while. 

“should i reopen the groupchat? haven’t seen the silly seven back together in a while.” and just as fast as the words leave his mouth, jay regrets it just as fast. he notices you tense up a bit as you’re putting some dishes away into the cupboard and he realizes he’s made a mistake bringing up your original seven friend group. a certain member becomes a tainted memory inside of your heart that you wished to not remember but are forced to remember in the most endearing and loving way. 

someone you wished you could leave in the past but you’re glad you chose not to as the memory continues to live through your daughter. 

“um, i’ll let you know. i’ve got some things i need to finish up before i start reuniting fully with everyone– plus i still need to get heejin caught up on all of her medical stuff for school so…” you begin to say and jay catches on. 

“ahh, don’t worry about it! just got a bit excited to see everyone back together again. i’ll look forward to it when it comes.” jay says, softly rubbing your back and offering you a smile that you return. 

“thanks jay…” you mutter quietly as you try to avoid his gaze. 

⋆˚ʚɞ

after three weeks of being back home in korea, you’ve finally gotten somewhat of a routine down as you’ve settled into your new home and neighborhood. you’ve got pretty accustomed to being back in korea and although it’s only been five years since the last time you were here; a lot has changed within those five years. 

you’d wake up on weekdays around 6am to get your day started, making breakfast and your daughter's school lunch before you woke her up at 7am to get her ready for school. she hadn’t started school yet back in the states so you wanted to ensure that you enrolled her into school once you had settled into your home. 

she was surprisingly excited to start school and make new friends. her favorite part of kindergarten so far was break time when she and her classmates would spend 30 minutes a day at the playground. she’d come home with unruly hair opposite of the sleek bun or pigtails she had previously had when you dropped her off. 

when your daughter was at school you’d spend the day cleaning around the home, finishing up the last parts of your move that had to do with papers and legal stuff, and would spend the rest of the time before your daughter got off school to run errands like going to the market or getting used to driving around your neighborhood. 

it's about an hour before your daughter is off of school so you decide to quickly freshen up before heading over to pick her up. 

today, you had plans to have an early dinner with karina as you hadn’t seen her since you had gotten there so it was due time to catch up now that you’ve settled in for the most part. 

⋆˚ʚɞ

“where are we going, mama?” heejin asks as you help her into her car seat. “getting dinner with auntie rina, remember?” you remind your daughter and she cheers, excited that she gets to see her auntie rina again. 

“why are we eating early? i want chicken!” she says and you just chuckle at her. “ok, i’ll get you chicken, ok?” you say, kissing your thumb and putting it towards her and your daughter does the same, connecting your thumbs, at the same time the two of you turn your hands 180 degrees with your thumbs pointing downwards so that your hands make the shape of a heart.

it was a small gesture the two of you did, a small way to be connected with your daughter through a special handshake between mother and daughter. 

⋆˚ʚɞ

dinner was filled with laughter as you watched your daughter and karina bond over chicken, your daughter having the time of her life with all of the different flavors of chicken; her favorite being the cheese flavored one. 

“so, when are we getting the gang back together?” karina asks as she places another piece of chicken on heejin’s plate, the both of you watching your daughter pick up the piece of chicken and munch on it like her life depended on it. you tried to tiptoe around her question, afraid that it would only lead to the inevitable that you were constantly postponing. 

karina waves her hand in front of your face as she realizes you’ve somewhat spaced out and reiterates her question, “um.. i’m not sure. i really want to see everyone but you know..” your voice getting quiet at the end of your sentence as you realize only jay, your cousin, knew who heejin’s father was. 

your friends knew of your longtime crush on heeseung when you were all in college and all somewhat knew that you’ve avoided him because of some reason that you haven’t told them. there were theories amongst the friends of why you no longer spoke to heeseung but only jay knew the reason. your friends didn’t want to pry but curiosity always filled their minds whenever they would think about you or see the photos you posted online of you and your daughter. with all of the theories they came up with, no one seemed to put together the most obvious reason and you’d rather keep that way. 

it wasn’t that you didn’t want any of them to know, you just weren’t ready for them to know and aren’t entirely sure when you’d be ready. karina noticed your shift in behavior with her question and chose to ask any more questions. the rest of the dinner was karina giving you suggestions on things you and your daughter could do like activities, sports and extracurriculars, and whatnot. 

“i’ll see you soon, ok?” karina says while giving your daughter a warm hug. the two of you bid each other goodbye and go your separate ways. karina’s question weighs on your mind heavily as you drive home, thinking about how long you could keep this a secret from your friends and also hide the fact that you were back in town from heeseung who just seemed to constantly be on your mind since you’ve arrived back in korea. 

a part of you wanted to see him, you missed him so much, the way he made you laugh, the way he knew you so well that he used to always bring you breakfast during your 8am lectures because you loved to sleep in until the last minute so you never ate breakfast, the way he knew when you were sad, the way he knew you were uncomfortable, everything. 

he knew you so well but that night, that unfortunate night, it seemed that he was the person that knew you the least in the world. 

⋆˚ʚɞ

a few days after your dinner with karina and some encouragement from jay, you finally decided to send out invites to all of your friends to come over for dinner. your place was getting to a point where it was feeling like home and you wanted your daughter to meet some of the most important people in your life. you obviously weren’t going to invite heeseung but you thought about it and you quickly found yourself shutting down that idea. 

“hi guys! please let me know if you’re free this saturday around 6pm! i’d love for all of you to come over for dinner and meet heejin! if it’s okay could you all bring a small dish? heejin isn’t picky but she is allergic to fish so keep that in mind. she’s very excited to meet her uncles and aunties!”

karina: i’m always free for you! minjeong: i’ll bring the chicken hehe jake: lets goo!! can’t wait to meet little yn! sunghoon: i already know i’m gonna be her favorite uncle jay: yeah right i’m her favorite already, nice try bro

all of their responses made you smile and for once you weren’t stricken with the anxiety of the past and how all of this could crumble down onto you– but you were dedicated to not letting that happen. you missed your friends dearly and being surrounded by your loved ones you haven’t seen in years was long overdue. 

⋆˚ʚɞ

friday rolls around a lot sooner than you expected, which you didn’t mind because it was all you were looking forward to after spending the weekdays trying your best not to spiral. you were constantly thinking about what would happen if they brought up heeseung or if he miraculously showed up unannounced and uninvited. you made several dishes as the main course and set up your kitchen so that everyone could eat buffet style. 

there were rolls of kimbap that your daughter helped you prepare, tofu stew simmering low on the stove to keep it warm, and other food that you knew your friends and your daughter loved. 

as the day went by and the time that your friends would all slowly start arriving would come, you noticed that heejin seemed to be antsy. like something was bothering her, she was constantly squirming around unable to find a comfortable seat at the dinner table, the couch, or even her favorite bean bag chair designed to look like a peach. she was fidgeting with the hem of her dress so much to the point that she had pulled a loose thread, causing the dress to tear. you were more worried than upset, it was just a piece of fabric it didn’t matter if it broke, although you did keep a mental note not to buy from that store again; so you sat her down to talk about it. 

“bambi.. what’s wrong?” you asked her as you helped her change into new clothes, something she had chosen and although it was more casual than the previous attire she had on; she was way more comfortable in it. she shook her head with a pout, indicating she either didn’t want to talk about it or that there wasn’t anything wrong– and considering her actions moments ago, it was the latter. 

“you don’t have to tell me what’s wrong but just know mommy is here for you ok? i don’t want my little bambi to be sad or upset and feel like she can’t talk to mom about her problems..” you told her softly, fixing her hair as it had gotten slightly messed up while you dressed your daughter. heejin was everything to you, she was your life and blood, she was your light and you’d be damned if you ever made your daughter feel like she couldn’t fully be herself or come to her own mother to help her fix her problems. 

even though heejin was still young, you made sure to make an emphasis on communication with your daughter, teaching her to articulate her feelings and emotions in a way that was healthy to her and those around her– and for the most part, she did that. she often told you if she was uncomfortable or if she was feeling upset about something as small as her socks making her feel itchy– but right now; she wasn’t communicating to you why she was acting the way she was and it left you stumped. 

you weren’t necessarily sure how to go about it. you didn’t want to pressure your daughter to tell you what was wrong but the mother inside of you couldn’t continue without knowing what was bothering your daughter and how you could alleviate her troubles. “are you ok, heejin?” you ask and she once again shakes her head. 

“can you tell mom what’s bothering you?” you asked, lightly patting your daughter's head as you finished doing her hair. 

she looks up at you with her big doe eyes and for a second you see the uncanny resemblance of her and her father. “mama, who is my dad?” the question comes as a shock to you because although she had asked before, she’s never let the absence of her father trouble her the way it has now. your mouth slightly opens at her question but you quickly recollect yourself so she doesn’t notice your demeanor falter, afraid that your expression could cause her more worry if she was to realize how you reacted to her question. 

you so desperately wanted to comfort your daughter, tell her everything you knew about her father and how he lived only miles away; but you couldn’t bring yourself to do that. it may seem selfish, and it was, but you simply weren’t ready to have that conversation with your daughter. even if it broke your heart to see her pleading eyes begging you for a single crumb of information on her dad, you couldn’t do it. it caused you an immense amount of pain to deny your daughter something she seemed to want so badly. 

“bambi, why the sudden interest?” you ask and she goes on to explain that when she was waiting to get picked up from school that day, she saw all of her classmates getting picked up by their dads and it got her thinking of her own, more specifically, the absence of her own father. 

your heart broke even more at her words but you chose to give her the answer that you’ve given her several other times she asked in the past. 

“bambi, your papa may not be here but he’s always in your heart, ok?” and you were glad that it provided her some form of comfort because it seemed like she knew you were going to say that so she closed her eyes and gently placed her small hand over her heart. it was moments like this that made you question yourself as a mother. denying your daughter from someone who was half of her all because of your own selfish intention and pain that you aren’t able to heal from. 

the two of you share another tender moment as you engulf your daughter into your arms for a warm embrace and try your best to get her to smile, which was fairly easy as your daughter was very ticklish. 

just in time, your doorbell rings indicating that some of your friends have arrived so you decide to carry your daughter to your front door to greet everyone. you gently rub her back to further soothe her worries, hoping that the emotional and vulnerable moment the two of you just shared didn’t cause her anymore worries despite the fact that she still had that longing look in her eyes. waiting for the day she could get the answer she was looking for and the day she’d get to meet her dad. 

⋆˚ʚɞ

you’re carrying your daughter in your arms as you open the door to welcome your friends and all of their eyes light up at the sight of you and your daughter. one by one they file inside of your home with a dish in their hands, greeting you and heejin with bright warm smiles. you return with a smile of your own as heejin waves at the strangers entering your home who she will grow to learn are the aunts and uncles that would love her and support her as she grows older. 

once everyone has gotten inside, you point to where they could all settle the dishes they brought and soon enough you’re setting heejin down to introduce her to everyone. 

“heejin, you know auntie karina and uncle jay, right?” you ask her while you crouch down to her, she nods her head in agreement, slightly shy as she still doesn’t know the several other people in the room. 

“this is uncle jake, he has a really big puppy, you like puppies right?” and once again she’s nodding but this time with a smile as she gets excited at the mention of  a dog. when heejin started to learn how to speak, one of the first words she spoke was “dog” and would later on constantly ask you to get her dog when she learned how to form full sentences. 

“heejin, i’ll introduce you to my dog, ok?” jake says with a smile and she cheers, happy that she finally gets to play with a dog since you wouldn’t let her get one of her own. 

“this one is auntie minjeong, can you say hi to her?” you ask and heejin shyly waves her hand and when minjeong waves back and asks if she can have a high five, heejin gives her one excitedly as you’ve taught her that high fives were a gesture of encouragement and sharing a high five with a friend was a good thing so she instantly felt happy when minjeong asked for one, already identifying her auntie minjeong as a friend. 

lastly, you point to sunghoon, “that’s uncle sunghoon, you like the snow right? uncle sunghoon is really good at ice skating.” you explain and her eyes and mouth widen at the thought of ice skating. “ice skating? do you make snow angels?” she asks and it causes the lot of you to laugh; to which sunghoon nods and tells her that he’ll teach her how to make some of her own. 

introductions go very well and heejin is calling everyone auntie and uncle in no time, opening up and breaking out of her shyness once she chats with your best friends some more as she tries all of the food they’ve brought. 

“yn, all this food is amazing by the way but you should’ve let us help more or at least bring more food so you didn’t have to cook so much!” minjeong says as she’s putting away her dish into your sink. 

“yeah, yn. this is delicious but next time let us take care of all of it okay? we’ll be sure to bring all the food that heejin likes. heejin, what’s your favorite food?” jake asks her and she cutely raises the chicken wing in her hand and shouts chicken and once again the room is filled with laughter because of your daughter’s cuteness. you were so happy to see your daughter being accepted by everyone, not necessarily because you thought they wouldn’t but because for the time that you’ve been gone; you were afraid that this drastic change in your life would affect the dynamic between you and your friends. 

but it didn’t. 

at least not completely. 

jake is slurping on his noodles when he suddenly says, “yo, heeseung brought me these noodles one time; it was so good we should all go some time.” and at the mention of heeseung’s name you’re almost frozen in your spot at the table. 

the room is instantly silent when they notice your attitude shift after hearing heeseung’s name. no one besides jay really knows what happened between the two of you and even then you’ve left out certain details from the story because you couldn’t bear to relive the pain from that night just so that someone could fully understand why you did what you did. 

sunghoon shoves jake lightly at his careless action and he soon realizes why the room had fallen silent, he glances over at you with an apologetic look followed by a string of apologies, “i’m so sorry, yn. i shouldn’t have brought him up- i wasn’t thinking.” jake says and you shake your head explaining that it was okay and that he had nothing to apologize for. 

“it’s fine, jake. he and i just don’t talk anymore.” you leave it at that and everyone chooses not to pry because it was truly none of their business. 

before the night ends you all take a group photo with heejin in the middle, you decided to have her sit on your shoulders as your friends crowd around her with warm smiles that could be felt through the photo. you were so happy to see the happiness radiate through the image that you didn’t necessarily care that all of your friends were quick to post that photo, the possibility of heeseung seeing it nowhere in your mind because you were more focused on the love that your friends were giving you and your daughter. 

you bid goodbye to your friends but not before you pack them their own little containers with leftovers because it was way more than what you and your daughter could finish alone. heejin happily waved goodbye to her aunties and uncles and had long forgotten about the sad moment the two of you shared before this dinner. 

she was so happy to meet them and to her they were all just her friends. your friends are equally as happy to meet your daughter and be a part of her life and yours again. 

⋆˚ʚɞ

on the other side of the city, heeseung is scrolling through his social media alone in his bed when he scrolls past the group photo you all took on several accounts. a pang of jealousy budding in his chest as he sees you in the center, happily carrying your daughter on your shoulders. 

heeseung couldn’t help but feel left out but all he could think about was why you hadn’t let him know you were back in town after disappearing for the last five years? 

so, he does what he thinks is right and opens the groupchat he has with the boys. 

“yo, you guys free tomorrow? wanna grab lunch?” heeseung taps into his phone and presses send and in a few minutes, sunghoon, jay, and jake are all responding to heeseung’s text. 

they all coordinate a plan to have lunch the next day. heeseung plans to let it come naturally, bring you up as smoothly as he can without coming off like he wanted to hang out with the guys just to find out information about you. 

but he knew deep down that he was going to get the information he needed one way or the other. 

even if it made him feel crazy because love makes you do crazy things. 

⋆˚ʚɞ

when the next day rolls around and heeseung is making his way to lunch, he realizes that his dreams that night were filled with one thing: you. 

he dreamt about all the ways he wanted to make up for lost time, he dreamt of past memories, he dreamt of you and he slept soundly knowing that you were so happy in his dreams. only hoping that he could make you as happy in real life like how you were in his dreams. 

you were truly the girl of his dreams and now that you were back; he wasn’t going to let you go so easily like last time. 

“whats up guys!” heeseung says as he walks over to the guys who had gotten a table for the four of them. they were all browsing the menu when heeseung arrived and they all did their usual greetings, asking how one another was and all of the normal things. 

they soon order food and jay could tell that heeseung was a bit antsy, sending glances over to jake and sunghoon with a gesture to look at heeseung and they do; realizing his leg hasn’t stopped bouncing since he sat down and he was chewing on his nails– something that he’s never done in the past. 

heeseung could no longer wait, he just had to ask about you even if it made the air between all of them awkward. “so..” he begins and jay cuts him off before he could finish. 

“heeseung, i know you’re going to ask about yn.” jay says and heeseung stops in the middle of his sentence, his mouth slightly ajar as those words leave jay’s mouth. he’s shocked that they knew, was he being less subtle than he thought? or was he just that predictable. 

heeseung and you were inseparable when you were younger, you couldn’t take one without the other coming along, the true meaning of  a package deal. but when you left, heeseung was left with so many questions, none of which could be answered by you as you cut off communication with him completely. 

the rest of lunch consists of the guys informing heeseung about you, small details that they thought you’d be comfortable with sharing with heeseung, and although heeseung wanted to learn more; he was happy to learn anything new about you since you’ve been gone for the last five years. 

they could tell that heeseung’s love for you never died or diminished in any way possible. when you first left, heeseung was a wreck and if they didn’t think he loved you then; his reaction to you leaving solidified that. he didn’t sleep, he cried almost everyday and he would try to write you letters even when he didn’t have an address to send them to. 

it wasn’t until about a year after you had left that heeseung started to somewhat go back to normal. he stopped moping around and he returned to the heeseung all of your friends once knew. but deep down, he and all your friends knew that he would never be the same without you in his life. he threw himself into his work and other priorities to distract himself so he didn’t have to think about you but in the end, it always came back to you. 

he’d be walking on the street and would pass by your favorite restaurant and he’d think about you. 

a song would play and he’d be reminded about all of the times you two would dance and sing along to it. 

he’d see a cloud shaped like an animal in the sky and would remember all of the times you two would spend hours laying on the grass and spotting clouds shaped like whatever your mind could identify it as. 

everything he saw reminded him of you and although it hurt him to think about you, thinking about you was the only thing keeping you close to him when you were unknowingly so far away. 

when the four of them part ways from lunch, jay pulls heeseung aside for a quick chat before he leaves, “hey, i shouldn’t tell you this but…” jay says, whispering something to heeseung and sending him a text. heeseung’s eyes widen at the text and he’s instantly bringing jay into a hug, thanking him for whatever it was jay had told him. 

“yeah, yeah.. don’t make me regret this, she is my cousin; i’ll beat your ass if you fuck this up.” he warns and although he was slightly joking; jay was speaking with some truth because he knew how much all of this affected two people that were so important in his life. 

heeseung slept with a smile on his face later that night, not only because he was excited to be able to see you in his dreams again, but also because of what he had planned for tomorrow morning. 

⋆˚ʚɞ

“heejin! let’s go, bambi!” you call for your daughter as you slide your shoes on. heejin appears with her backpack dragging behind her, taking a seat next to you so she can put her shoes on to which you help her. you’re about to bring her to school, glancing at the clock near your front door when you realize you’ve only got 20 minutes to get her there. 

when you open the door, however, you’re met with a face that you hadn’t prepared yourself to see, at least not for a long time from now. 

“heeseung?” you ask as you look at him, standing at your front door with a smile on his face, flowers in his hand, and eyes as bright as they were when the two of you first met. 

“hi, yn.. long time no see.” heeseung responds, a sheepish grin on his face as he’s finally able to see you for the first time in five years. “sorry, i need to take heejin to school.” you explain, slightly moving him out of the way to lock the door and make your way to your car. 

“let me take you?” he offers and although a part of you wants to deny, you know that heeseung has always been stubborn and that if you were to try to decline; the two of you would just be going back and forth and before you know it, heejin would be late to school. 

so, you reluctantly accept his offer; quickly grabbing her carseat from your car and setting her up in the back of heeseung’s car. “mama, who is he?” heejin asks and you explain that he’s just a friend. “how come he didn’t come to dinner?” heejin continues with another question and you answer with something dismissive and tell her he was just busy. 

“ready to go? don’t want her to be late.” heeseung says and you look over at him and he’s still got that smile on his face like he knew exactly what he was doing and was happy that you were going along with it. you give him a tight lipped smile as you place a kiss onto heejin’s forehead before taking your seat at the front passenger seat next to heeseung. 

in the past whenever you two were in a car it would always be you in the front next to him because he trusted you the most with directions and music but mostly because he loved being able to see you next to him.  it was such a simple and innocent thing to be so close to you even if you were just sitting next to him but it never failed to make his heart race whenever you would look over at him, catching him staring at you when he needed to be focusing on the road. 

you’d tease him by saying, “eyes on the road” and talk about how you’ll crash if he keeps staring at you and he’d just respond by saying he would never hurt you or do anything that would put you in pain. 

heeseung tried to keep that promise and broke it without even knowing that he did. 

⋆˚ʚɞ

“bye heejin, have a good day ok?” you send your daughter off to school, watching her small figure skip away as she waves and greets the friends she sees as she walks into school. “she’s adorable.” heeseung says as you turn towards him. a part of you slightly forgetting that he was there because all of your focus was set on your daughter. 

“thanks.” you mutter, barely above a whisper. 

“wanna grab breakfast? my treat.” heeseung asks, a cheesy grin on his face as if he’s using his smile as a way to convince you to say yes; it worked… just a little bit. 

“fine.” you say while rolling your eyes, a part of you only saying yes because you had nothing better to do and he was the one that drove. the car ride was silent, filled with awkward tension as you couldn’t get comfortable in your seat knowing that you haven’t seen heeseung in five years and had no idea where this was going to go. would everything be the way it was before you left? or would it be filled with boiling tension that would eventually blow up. 

heeseung was fiddling with the steering wheel, tapping on the leather of the wheel, messing around with the car compartments, and constantly clearing his throat to drown out the silence that was so loud. 

“so… how’ve you been?” heeseung asks, slightly looking over at you as if he was suddenly nervous to make eye contact, fearing for how you’d react. 

“okay.. yeah i’ve been ok.” keeping your answer short so that you didn’t end up saying more than you wanted. you weren’t sure how comfortable you’d become with heeseung, someone who you once would’ve associated with the word “comfort” now was more closely aligned with “unknown”. 

“thats- thats good..” heeseung stutters. 

he doesn’t ask any further questions after he’s taken notice that you weren’t inclined for small talk or maybe just talking to him in general. which he couldn’t blame you for, you haven’t seen each other in five years and he understood that things were a lot different than before. 

you and heeseung used to be able to talk about anything and everything, whenever one of you or both would be stressed; you’d just talk for hours about anything to distract yourselves from whatever was troubling your minds. one time the two of you had even spent 63 hours on facetime, uninterrupted because you were both away from each other for the first time and couldn’t stand being that far away. 

the two of you were only separated for a weekend but it was too long for either of you. 

“order anything you want, ok?” heeseung says as he looks at the menu, browsing for what he wants to eat. you mirror his actions but you lift the menu a bit higher to cover your face because you were a bit shy. you didn’t know how to act around heeseung anymore and felt like shielding yourself away from. 

“are you two ready to order?” the waitress asks and quickly jots down your order, coming back momentarily to drop off your drinks and returning about 20 minutes later with the food you had ordered. heeseung had ordered ramen for breakfast, it came on a small personal burner so that it remained hot as he ate. you slightly smile to yourself, trying your best to hide it because this habit of heeseung hasn't changed in that aspect. 

heeseung always loved ramen, it's his favorite. 

you had just gotten rice with some grilled meat and a fried egg, something simple but delicious. heeseung is busy slurping on his noodles when you decide to break the silence, “how did you find me, heeseung?” you ask, causing heeseung to choke a bit on his food at the random question. 

he quickly apologizes, grabbing a tissue to wipe his mouth before responding, “oh, yeah about that. don’t be mad but jay told me. it’s not his fault though, i practically begged him.” heeseung says, eye widening as if to prevent you from getting upset that jay had given heeseung your address without permission. 

you were a bit upset, especially because jay was the one that knew what happened with everything out of all of the people in your life. you made sure to bring this up to your cousin when you had the chance, keeping in mind that jay would get a piece of your mind about this. 

the rest of the breakfast was filled with the same awkward tension as you two ate your food in silence, every once in a while asking each other questions for some small talk but nothing that the two of you talked about did anything to cut through the awkwardness. when you and heeseung finished eating, he kept his word about taking care of the bill, and although you wouldn’t have cared if he didn’t, it was nice because it felt just like old times. 

back in college, when you and heeseung were little broke college kids; he always paid no matter what it was. a late night snack? heeseung paid. you were craving boba? heeseung paid. it was your birthday? heeseung paid. even when it wasn’t food, heeseung paid because he loved taking care of you even in small matters like paying for your things. 

a sign you should’ve seen sooner that heeseung saw you as more than just a friend. 

“thanks for breakfast and dropping off heejin at school. have a good day, heeseung.” you say while exiting his car. you’re startled by heeseung’s sudden action when he shouts when and runs out of the car and around to your side, you give him a confused look from inside of the car as you watch him. heeseung closes your door and reopens it for you, “madam.” he says, while gesturing with his hand and a slight bow. 

you couldn’t help but laugh but when heeseung raises his head to look at you, your expression instantly changes because you didn’t want to give heeseung the satisfaction that you found it amusing. you were still upset at heeseung for something of the past and although it’s been harbored inside of you for years on end, you couldn’t help but feel it slowly rising back to the top ever since you had returned to korea. 

heeseung walks slowly behind you as you make your way to the front door like a lost puppy and when you get to unlocking your door,  he clears his throat, gaining your attention. 

“look… i know we haven’t spoken or seen each other in years, but i’m not going to act like it wasn’t the hardest five years of my life. you kind of just disappeared without explanation and when i tried to reach out… i didn’t hear back. 

i had even asked our friends and they didn’t have anything to tell me, i mean- i knew jay would’ve known because he’s your cousin but he didn’t tell me anything. 

can we please just talk?” heeseung was rambling and you felt bad because you could tell he was a bit anxious and probably rehearsed this in his head. 

“yn.. i missed you so much and i tried to practice what i wanted to say to you when i saw you again but i’ve just thrown that all out the window. 

say something..? please?” and you could feel yourself slowly falling back into that old familiar place. the one where you could look into heeseung’s eyes and you could tell how he was really feeling even if he tried to mask it with his rambling. 

“heeseung, why don’t you come inside and then we can talk… not out here..” you said with a chuckle and heeseung eagerly nods, a smile on his lips at the invitation into your home, a stepping stone back into your life. 

you don’t know where this conversation was going earlier and now that it’s almost been two hours since you saw heeseung again, you still didn’t know what to expect. 

“can i get you something to drink?” you ask and he lets you know that water is fine so after a few minutes, you return to find heeseung standing in your living room, admiring the photos you framed of yourself and your daughter. 

“you guys look so happy.” heeseung comments as he joins you on the couch, setting the two cups of water in front of the two of you. “heeseung.. i don’t know what to say to be honest. there’s a lot i’ve wanted to say to you and over the last five years, i’ve only wanted to say more. 

i didn’t mean to disappear i just-”

“then why? why did you leave?” heeseung says, interrupting you and his eyes have transitioned into one that expressed that he was pleading, begging, and waiting for an answer from you. an answer that he had been waiting for since the day you left. 

on the other hand, you were too. you had so many questions for heeseung but you knew that you couldn’t get answers without having to answer any of heeseung’s questions. you weren’t sure how to answer heeseung. you wanted to be honest and tell him the full truth but you didn’t even know if you were ready to face that. 

it was five years ago but now, sitting in front of heeseung as he looked at you with tears threatening to fall from his eyes, you couldn’t bring yourself to relive those moments where you felt the most alone, unwanted, and misunderstood person in the world. 

you stuttered to answer and the longer you thought about the more complicated it became in your head. your breathing started to become heavy and your eyes were constantly blinking. you couldn’t look at heeseung any longer because it made you feel uneasy and nauseous, the anxiety of this moment having built up inside of you for so long that now that it was all happening, it was corroding the stability you had worked so hard to build in your head. 

“are you ok, yn?” heeseung asked and his voice sounded muffled to you and as he scooted closer, the image of heeseung in your vision blurred and doubled like he was a mirage. you were starting to get light headed and that was when you knew that you were going to faint, the anxiety had taken over your brain and before you knew it your eyes were fluttering closed and heeseung was catching you in his arms before your body could fall over onto the coffee table. 

heeseung catches you instantly when you notice your body start to go limp, rocking back and forth. he wasn’t sure what happened but something must’ve been bothering you so much that you had fainted in his arms. heeseung tries his best to gently position you onto your couch in a comfortable position, moving your legs into place and softly setting your head on the armrest with a pillow propped up under. 

he admired your sleeping figure and if it wasn’t for the fact that you had fainted, he probably would’ve found this moment cute. it reminded him of the first time heeseung had realized he liked you more than he thought he did. the two of you had gotten very drunk one night after failing your economics exam and you had a habit of getting sleepy when drinking. 

you were in the middle of talking when your head started to get wobbly and your eyelids had become heavy and before you knew it; you were falling asleep next to heeseung; your head softly landing on his shoulder like a makeshift pillow. he found it cute and he still does. 

⋆˚ʚɞ five years ago

you had been texting with heeseung all night, he had been going through something and although you wanted to know what it was; you settled on just making him feel better. like a good friend would do. your crush on heeseung has something your friends had known about for a while and although you’ve wanted to confess your feelings to him for a while now, you were too afraid of ruining your friendship and it potentially affecting your whole friend group. 

heeseung was currently on his way to your dorm and it was like you were waiting for a blind date. you fidget with the tassel on your throw pillow as you wait for him on your bed, running through the different scenarios in your head of what’s been bothering him. 

he was fine the last few days but today something had shifted; heeseung felt like he was carrying something heavy on his mind and it was showing. he had sent you a string of messages that represented someone on the verge of a crash out and all you could do was worry for him, eventually inviting him over so you could talk and find a way to make him feel better. 

to which heeseung accepted instantly as if that was what he was waiting for. 

after a few minutes, a knock on your door softly echoes throughout your dorm as you’re just about to text heeseung if he was alright. “hee-” you say, getting cut off when heeseung storms into your room, breathing unsteady as if he had run over to you. 

“what’s wrong, are you ok?” you ask, worry settled onto your face as you shut the door behind you. 

heeseung is standing facing away as he tries to catch his breath, unsure of how to talk to you about what has been weighing on his mind heavily. a reality that he’s finally chosen to come to terms with despite thinking it was all his delusions until recently. 

“hee?” you ask again and he whips around to face you, your expression softening when you see that it looks like he hasn’t slept and looks absolutely exhausted. his eyes were red, cheeks a bit sunken, and the shadows around his eyes were more prominent. he looked like he’s so emotionally and physically drained you couldn’t help but rush over to him, cupping his face in worry– rubbing his cheek with your thumb and you could feel heeseung melt into your hand. 

his eyes flutter closed as he breathes a sigh of relief; like your touch alone was enough to soothe his mind even though the reason for his distress partially had something to do with you. you guide heeseung to your bed and you can’t help but frown at his appearance, you didn’t know how long this has been going on but it seems that it was enough to reflect on his face. 

“hee? are you ok?” you ask and he finally takes a deep breath before responding, “yn.. i just want you to know that i don’t want any of this to change us.. and i hope we’ll be okay after this but-” heeseung begins. 

“heeseung you’re scaring me..” you whisper, anxiety building inside of you as heeseung tries to avoid eye contact with you. 

“just- please listen.. i don’t want you to think of me any differently after i say this but…

i think i love you.” 

and when those five words leave heeseung’s lips, everything goes silent. 

you’ve been wanting to hear heeseung say those words for so long, wishing that he would reciprocate your feelings, confess his love to you the way you’ve been too afraid to confess to him, and now that he has; you didn’t know what to do or say. 

heeseung was finally able to look into your eyes, looking for an answer because the silence after his confession had him thinking that he shouldn’t have said anything in the first place. 

“please, say something..” he whispers, voice trembling like he’d be in tears at any moment. 

“hee… i just-” when you try to respond even though you weren’t sure what to say, heeseung brings his hands to your face and brings it closer to his; “please tell me you feel the same way or else i might go insane.” he whispers, his lips just a few inches away from yours. 

heeseung’s gaze trails from your eyes down your face and lands to your lips, heeseung absentmindedly licks his own as if it were a physical reaction to seeing yours. “i do heeseung-” you begin but before you could finish your sentence; his lips are on yours. 

the dryness of his lips instantly disappears as your two lips dance with his. a kiss that both of you had been longing for since you two have first met, like there was tension between the two of you that could only be relieved with one another. everyone in the room could feel it but neither of you ever wanted to confront that no matter how badly you wanted to. 

heeseung pulls away for a moment, allowing the two of you to catch your breath; “i’m sorry, i should’ve asked but i just couldn’t wait any longer..” heeseung murmurs, his bedroom eyes glued onto yours as you try to gather your thoughts. you had been waiting to share this moment with heeseung for so long but for some reason it wasn’t like how you’d dreamt.

“heeseung, this is wrong.. what about your girl-” you’re about to bring up heeseung’s girlfriend but he just shakes his head. “you’re the one i want.. it’s always been you” he says, connecting your lips once again, the kiss being just as passionate and filled with hunger like you’re both deprived of the other. 

your dorm was soon filled with you and heeseung’s pleasure, a craving that was finally satisfied after so many years; finally having you in his arms. you never thought this day would come and although you thought that it would never come; you were going to cherish this moment with heeseung. 

the next few days felt like a dream. you and heeseung were inseparable and it’s everything you had hoped for when you used to think about how your life would be after confessing to heeseung about how you truly felt. 

only for him to confess first, leaving you shocked that he felt the same way. 

the conversation after that night in your dorm room was a bit awkward but the two of you quickly learned to laugh it off and move forward with your relationship. you had agreed that you’d keep this between yourselves for now because you were unsure of how it would affect the dynamic of your friend group. you even held off from telling jay, your cousin, who you told everything to. 

it was hard for the first few weeks to hide your relationship with heeseung because whenever all of you were together, you wanted nothing more than to hold his hand or sit on his lap, the tension from before being converted to secret longing glances and smiles that you two would try to hide from your friends. 

the good lasted for only a few months, until the fateful day that would change your life forever. you had woken up feeling like a ton of bricks had fallen on top of you while you were sleeping. you were fatigued, nauseous, and spent the morning hunched over your toilet as you threw up your dinner from the night before. 

you weren’t sure why your body was suddenly feeling unwell so you made a trip to the pharmacy to grab some medicine, browsing the aisles to see what would help with your symptoms, and that was when your eyes landed on the sleek white box towards the end of the shelf. 

“pregnancy test: accurate results in just under 10 minutes” it read on the box in bright blue font. there was no way that could be the cause of your distress, you didn’t have sex with anyone else besides.. heeseung… that night.. three months ago. 

your mind starts to spiral as you think about the possibility that you could be pregnant with heeseung’s child as that night replays in your head– now just remembering that the idea of a condom was absent from both of your minds as you were both in the heat of the moment, exploring one another’s bodies. 

frantically grabbing a few boxes, you make your way to the cash register but are stopped in your tracks when a voice calls out to you; “yn?” and when you turn around it’s heeseung’s ex-girlfriend. 

the conversation with her was short but awkward. she just wanted to clear the air, letting you know that she had no animosity towards you or heeseung and that she wished you two the best. which confused you because you certainly didn’t tell her and know that heeseung wouldn’t have told her without discussing with you first. when you asked her to clarify, her explanation only heightens the mental distress you were currently in. 

“heeseung and i broke up a few months ago and i just figured you two would be together by now..” was all she said before walking away. 

the night that heeseung confessed his love to you and where you had shared one of the most intimate moments two people could experience together; also happened to be the same night that heeseung broke up with his girlfriend. 

leading you to believe that it was the only reason he felt so inclined to be with you. like you were just some rebound that heeseung knew would be waiting for him like a lost puppy who had been left at home all day, knowing that if he called out to you– you’d come running to him. 

you were a rebound. 

did he even mean anything he had said to you or was it all just a way to get you to play along with his desires? did he even know you felt that way about him? and he used it as a way to get what he wanted? 

you felt disgusted knowing that the moment you shared with heeseung that you had been waiting for was merely just a way for him to get over his ex-girlfriend. a second option that he knew he could fall back on but not in the same way that he would’ve been supported by his friends who he could fall back on during a hard time, but more so like you were just a stepping stone and a temporary fix for the despair he was in that night. 

using you to forget his ex if it meant that he would feel better at your expense. 

it feels like the ten minutes that you were waiting for the pregnancy test to be ready was the longest ten minutes of your life. “less than ten minutes, my ass” you scoffed as the clock showed it’s been ten minutes and the results weren’t being shown through the small indicator window yet. 

your head falls back in annoyance and to your surprise, the next time you look at the test, a giant plus sign is clearer than day. you swallowed the dryness in your throat, throwing the test into the garbage and ripping open into the two other boxes you bought to test again. 

refusing to believe that the first one was accurate, like it was a fluke, a false positive, anything to convince yourself that this was not happening. 

but it was. 

⋆˚ʚɞ 

when you wake up, about an hour later, you almost don’t recognize where you are until you realize you’re wrapped up in a blanket on your bed. you remember being on the couch but don’t recall how you ended up on your bed. you sluggishly roll out of your bed, eyes half open as you scratch your head and make your way to the living room; only to find heeseung sleeping soundly on your couch. 

shock shoots through you as the memories of what happened before you fainted return to your mind, remembering that you and heeseung had reunited after not seeing one another for the last five years when he showed up unannounced at your front door. 

you slowly walk over to him, momentarily admiring his peaceful face as he snoozed on your couch, clutching onto the small pillow with his arms. “i know you’re staring at me.” heeseung murmurs, opening one eye to look at you; a grin on his face when he sees the annoyed look on yours. 

“what are you still doing here?” you ask, crossing your arms and tilting your head to one side as you questioned him. “wow, already kicking me out? if we were in college you would’ve begged me to stay while you tried to convince your roommate to leave.” he says, sitting up straight with the same playful smile on his lips. 

“okay, if you’re gonna stay then i guess we need to have this talk don’t we?” you ask, swallowing the lump in your throat as you try to muster up the courage to have this conversation after it led you to faint just an hour prior. you take a seat next to heeseung, much like how the two of you were positioned earlier and the night when  he showed up at your dorm, both of you sitting on your bed; looking into each other’s eyes as if you were the only two people that existed. 

holding one another so closely like at any given moment one of you would be torn away from the other. only if heeseung knew that you would be torn away from him months after, maybe he wouldn’t have made the decision he did that night. 

but that night was nothing that he’d ever regret. 

“so.. where do i begin.. you say trying to think of how you wanted to start– 

that night, when we hooked up in my dorm room; i know why you showed up. when you told me that you loved me it was everything that i could’ve hoped for. i feel like i started to fall for you the day we first met and every day since then i fell for you even more but i just thought that i wasn’t someone that you could ever love. 

so, even though it hurt me, i settled with being okay with just being friends; because it was better than not having you in my life at all. 

but when you told me you loved me that night, i was the happiest girl in the world. until i wasn’t. i felt like the few months that we were dating was the happiest moments of my life, obviously not compared to now because i have my daughter, but i’ll cherish those moments forever because it truly made me so happy to be with you–” 

“then why did you leave?” heeseung pleads, begging for an answer as you somewhat tiptoe around it. “a few months later, i ran into your ex while i was in the store and i found out that the two of you had broken up the same night we hooked up…” heeseung was now shaking his head in denial at what he was hearing. 

“heeseung, you used me as a rebound for your breakup– no, yn. that’s not true. i promise i would never do that to you.” heeseung whines, shaking his head in frustration that you’ve harbored this misunderstanding about him for the last five years which drove you away from him. 

⋆˚ʚɞ five years ago, two days before moving away

“why have you been so distant?” heeseung asks, his doe eyes looking at you as he pleads for your attention, lights reflecting in his eyes that made it look like he was tearing up, and he was trying his best not to cry in front of the girl he’s loved for so long. 

you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him, this battle inside of you that you’ve been going through on whether or not you wanted to tell heeseung the life changing news, your oversized hoodie covering up the secret you have. 

“heeseung, i just don’t think we can do this anymore.” was the only thing you could say before having to do the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do. 

walk away from the boy you’ve loved for so long. 

heeseung didn’t know what he had done that led you to breakup with him but he held onto this idea that you hated him ever since. he respected you enough to let you walk away from him even though it took every ounce of strength inside of him to not run after you and engulf you in his arms. he would’ve begged you to stay if he could, but he didn’t. 

not running after you and fighting for your love was his biggest regret. 

two days later, he’d find out from jay that you left the country and although he begged and begged jay to let him know where you moved to, how to reach you, and to help him get in contact with you; jay respected you too much after learning what led you to leave to just set you back by allowing heeseung to waltz right back into your life. 

jay tried his best to not let his judgement of heeseung be clouded by what you told him, but he couldn’t help but feel empathy towards you. his cousin who’s life was going to change drastically because of his best friend and all he could do was support you from afar even if it meant helping you move into his childhood home where jay’s parents would be there for you to help you throughout the whole thing. 

⋆˚ʚɞ 

“heeseung, this is all too much for me right now. i want to have this conversation, i’ve thought about it every day for the last five years, but i don’t think i’d ever be ready for it. 

i think you should leave.” 

and as much as heeseung wanted to stay, beg for you to let him stay and talk it out, but he respected you too much to fight with you. 

so just like that night, he walked away even if he didn’t want to. 

you sighed as you closed the door behind heeseung, peeking into the small window beside your front door to watch him leave, shoulders low and head hunched over as he walked to his car. you close your eyes and exhale before swinging the door back open and calling for heeseung, “heeseung!” you shout and he’s instantly whipping around at the sound of your voice. 

“heejin’s birthday is in two weeks, you’re invited if you’d like to come.” and heeseung’s attitude changes, a bright smile spreading onto his face as your words ring like church bells in his ears. 

“i’ll be there.” he says before waving goodbye and driving off. 

a small smile tugging on your lips as you tried your best not to feel like that young girl you once were whenever you’d get shy around heeseung. 

⋆˚ʚɞ 

the next two weeks is filled with heeseung’s endless attempts to make his way into your everyday routine whether it was showing up again unannounced to take heejin to school, to which she’d never deny because heeseung always brought her the juice box she really likes, or if it was him asking you if you needed help with anything for heejin’s birthday. 

heeseung was going to find his way back into your life even if he annoyed you– but all you had in your mind was her birthday despite heeseung’s attempts to occupy your every waking thought. 

the build up for heejin’s birthday was filled with excitement and anxiety as you tried to make her 6th birthday something special because it would be her first birthday in korea. in the past, her birthdays in seattle was mostly just you and her, sometimes your parents would fly in town to visit but not often. 

and now that you’re back in korea and surrounded by so many people that loved you; you were going to make sure this birthday was something that she remembers. her birthday was in just 24 hours and everything was set in place. 

it was somewhat difficult to keep everything hidden from her because she was one curious girl and was constantly rambling about what she wanted for her birthday, unicorns, rainbows, the color pink, a cake that was chocolate but also vanilla and had strawberries, the color pink, a pinata that was shaped like bunny or maybe a unicorn, and oh, did i mention.. pink? 

pink was her favorite color and it showed with every since thing she always picked out for herself was pink. 

at midnight when the clock indicated that it was finally her birthday, you snuck into her room as she slept soundly with a small cupcake and a number six candle in the center. you gently walked over to her and softly sang happy birthday, waking her up and her eyes instantly widened at the sight of you. 

She was smiling from ear to ear and clapping her hands together in joy. “happy birthday my sweet bambi.” you said after singing happy birthday, softly patting her head as she makes a wish and blows out the candle. 

“thank you mama.” her small voice coming out just above a whisper. “sleep now, okay? you have a big day tomorrow.” booping her nose as she enthusiastically goes back to bed, eager to fall back asleep and wake up the next morning to her big day. 

birthday preparations started earlier for you as you made sure to do some last minute cleaning and organizing for the party. setting out all of the stuff in your backyard with the help of jay and your parents. your mom busied your daughter so that she wasn’t running around and to stop her from looking through every single thing at her party. 

she was so happy, a type of happiness you wished would stay with her forever. 

soon after, the preparations were complete and heejin was dressed in a sparkly pink dress, one that she had picked up several weeks in advance when the two of you were shopping together on a mommy and daughter date. 

your friends, sunghoon, jay, jake, karina, and winter had shown up with gifts that made your daughter smile so bright. her classmates had shown up, excited to celebrate heejin on her big day– you watched from the side as you took in all of it. some of the people you loved most in one place to celebrate the person you loved most. 

seeing your daughter happy made you happy and that was all you could wish for. 

you took a gander at all of the people enjoying the party when a knock at your front door catches your attention. you jog over to the door and are met with heeseung, a cheesy grin on his face as he carries several boxes in his arms, peering from behind it to reveal himself. 

“i hope i’m not too late?” he says and you just chuckle, telling him that the party was just beginning. you invite him inside, instructing him to set her gifts onto the table in the far side of the kitchen as the two of you join everyone in the backyard. 

you can hear gasps coming from your friends as they see you and heeseung standing together, a sight that none of them thought they’d see so soon. “yo! heeseung, you made it man.” jake says, standing up to shake his friend’s hug as everyone follows to do the same. 

karina and winter send you a teasing glance, the two of them pointing to you and heeseung like you were all kids teasing their friend when their crush walks by, earning them an eye roll as you laugh it off. 

“where’s the birthday girl?” heeseung asks, still holding onto a small gift as he walks back to you. you pointed at heejin who was playing tag with her friends; unafraid to get rowdy with the little boys in her class. “heejin, bambi! come here, you’ve got a gift.” you shout and she comes running as she hears the word gift. 

heeseung crouches down to her size and hands her the gift, “happy birthday heejin.” he says with a soft smile, one that heejin returns. hugging him to thank him, “can i open it mama?” she asks and you gesture her to ask heeseung since it was his gift– earning an eager nod from heeseung who encouraged her to open it. 

heejin tears into the small box, a gasp escaping from her tiny mouth as she sees the box, the gift wrap revealing a soft brown deer plushie with a pink bow and blushing cheeks. she jumps up and down in excitement, her arms wrapping around heeseung’s neck to show her appreciation for the gift. seeing heeseung hug her back pulls at your heartstrings as you watch all of it unfold, an image in your head that you thought you’d never see. 

your daughter and her father sharing a tender moment with an embrace. 

⋆˚ʚɞ 

the party dies down once the sun has set and most of the guests have gone. the only people left were your parents, winter and sunghoon, and heeseung. your friends had offered to stay back to help you clean and because your mother was your mother, she wasn’t going to let you clean up alone even if you had your friends to help. 

heejin was in the living room with bright eyes as she looked at all of the gifts she had received, several gifts of stuffed animals, toys, clothes, and other presents that a small child would appreciate. “okay, bambi let’s get ready for bed. you can play with all of your toys tomorrow, ok?” and heejin nods, grabbing the deer plushie that heeseung got her and taking it with her as you help her get ready for bed. 

heeseung notices you and heejin walking away and excuses himself from your mother to which she just nods and tells him it’s okay and she’ll take care of the rest of the chores in the kitchen. heeseung parted with a small bow as he makes his way to what he assumes is heejin’s room. 

winter and sunghoon on the other are glancing at each other, having confirmation with just their eyes as they watch heeseung run after you. 

“you know.. not to be a conspiracy theorist but doesn’t heejin look like.. heeseung?” winter asks, whispering to sunghoon as she walks a bit closer to him. “no, i see it too. also, the nickname? we used to say heeseung looks like a baby deer all the time when we were in college and yn nicknamed her daughter bambi?” sunghoon adds and winter looks at him like he’s just spilled the deepest secret one can hold. 

sunghoon and winter send each other knowing glances as they both arrive at a revelation. 

“hey, you guys alright?” heeseung asks while popping his head into heejins room with a soft knock. you tell him that you’re just her ready for bed when you wave him inside. “thank you for the gift, she loves it a lot. i’ve been looking for that thing for months and i can’t believe you were able to find it.” you tell him and heeseung chuckles.

“it’s no big deal” he responds and you ask him about how he knew to get that for her. “she talks about it whenever i drive her to school, she also mentioned that her mommy calls her bambi and i figured it would make the perfect gift.” he explains, making it a point to reference the bambi part as he knew that was also a nickname he had within your friend group, one that you started. 

you hoped that you weren’t too obvious with that but chose not to dwell much longer on the nickname as it could just be coincidence– although it wasn’t. 

“thank you for the bambi!” heejin says as she walks back into the room in her pajamas. heeseung pats her small head as she climbs into her bed, tucking her into her blanket as you ask her about her day– heejin rambling on about her favorite parts of the day which just turned out to be every single aspect of her party. 

you smiled at her as she went on and on, “but my favorite is the bambi.” she says while stretching her arms out with the plushie in her hands and then bringing it into her arms for a hug. “thank you dad.” heejin says and it catches you and heeseung off guard– heejin herself doesn’t even realize what she’s said as she gets cozy in bed. 

there was a sense of awkwardness between the two of you at the comment by your daughter and it causes heeseung to start questioning things and putting puzzle pieces together. the possibility that he could’ve been heejin’s dad hadn’t crossed his mind once and now that it’s been brought up; it’s all he was thinking about. 

“goodnight, baby.” you say before placing a kiss onto heejin’s forehead and as you’re about to leave; she calls out to you. “mama, can you sing me a lullaby?” she asks and even though you were exhausted, you weren’t going to say no to your daughter. 

“can i?” heeseung asks and you couldn’t bring yourself to say no when heejin looked so excited, so you nod and heeseung takes a seat on the bed next to heejin who was still hugging the deer plushie. 

heeseung then begins to sing a song to your daughter. you haven’t heard his voice in so long, the melodic trill of his vocals, a symphonic honey like sound that lulled your daughter to sleep in no time, her soft snores mixing with heeseung’s beautiful singing. 

when the two of you were certain that she was sound asleep, you carefully walked out of her room and shut the door as softly as you could. as you try to walk back to finish some cleaning, heeseung holds onto your hand and whips you back around to look at him, his gaze filled with love and the same type of longing that has lingered inside of him for years on end. 

“can we talk?” heeseung says and you nod, letting him know to continue. 

“i know that i hurt you when i made it feel like you were just a rebound, but that couldn’t have been more wrong. it was always you, i’ve always loved you and i would always choose you. my ex and i were constantly fighting throughout that week and the day i came running to you was when we broke up but i never told you why… 

we broke up because she realized how much i loved you in comparison to her and it wasn’t fair that whenever i was with her, all i could think about was you. 

i’ve loved you since the day i met you and i just never had the courage to say that, but i would write your name in the sand again and again after the waves have swept it away if it means that my love for you is shared across the seas.” 

tears streaming down your eyes as heeseung’s hands gently cup your face, his thumb wiping your face of your tears. heeseung brings you into his arms for an embrace and when he feels your arms wrap around him, he breathes a sigh of relief knowing that he was finally able to get that off of his chest.

something that he’s had weighing on him for so long and was so happy to finally profess his love for you. the girl he loves and will always love. 

when you pull away from him with a sniffle, heeseung wipes your tears again as you lock eyes, “is she mine?” he asks in reference and you nod, finally telling heeseung the secret that you’ve held for the last five years. 

tears sting heeseung’s eyes at the information and he holds you even tighter in his arms when he hears the news. he couldn’t believe that the beautiful girl he just sang to sleep was his daughter. joy was an understatement to describe the emotion that he was feeling. the type of love only a family could share where they’d do everything to keep the family together and happy. 

you and heeseung spend the night sharing stories of what you’ve missed in each other’s lives in the time that you were gone. tears, laughter, and tender touches shared between the two of you as you do your best to rebuild your relationship from scratch. 

“thank you for giving me another chance.” heeseung whispers as you lay in his arms, the moonlight shining onto your faces, leaving a small white cast into the room. 

“thank you for not giving up on me.” you respond, heeseung placing a small kiss onto your temple before you both drift off to sleep. a type of joy and delight radiating from your bodies that neither of you have felt in so long. something you would have only gotten from one another. 

⋆˚ʚɞ 

you’re awoken to the smell of grilled meat wafting throughout your home, your nose dragging you to the living room to find heejin and heeseung in the kitchen cooking together. “what do we have here?” you ask and they turn to look at you, “mama! he’s teaching me how to make pancakes and bacon.” she says, running over to you and hugging your legs. you pick her up and walk back to heeseung who was setting the last pancake onto the plate. 

“let’s eat.” he says and you all sit at the table together and enjoy breakfast like a family for the first time. a moment that you’ve always wanted to share as a whole family and now that you’ve finally been able to share the truth with heeseung, it’s everything you’ve ever wanted. 

“heejin, i have something to tell you, ok?” you tell her and she’s looking up at you with her big doe eyes, identical to heeseung’s who was shyly sitting to the side. “remember when you asked me where your papa is?” and heejin nods, a small pout on her lips. 

“bambi, heeseung is your papa.” and you’ve never seen heejin move so fast before as she’s jumping out of her chair and into heeseung’s arms to which he welcomes her, hugging his daughter with so much love that you could feel it coming off of them. heeseung extends one of his arms to invite you over and as tears fall from your eyes once again, you join in on your first ever family hug. 

you didn’t know when this day would come and you were elated that it came sooner after you had been running from it for the last five years. the happiest moment of your life with the family you’ve created could’ve never happened if you didn’t face heeseung and allowed for him to bare his soul and heart to you. something you should’ve never been afraid of. 

heeseung waited for you every single day, thinking about the day that you’d come back to him and when you’d finally be his. to his surprise, you gave him a beautiful daughter that, although he has a lot of time to make up for, was so happy that he wasn’t too late to watch her grow and be a part of her life. 

no matter how hard you tried to run from having to face this hardship, heeseung was thousands of miles away back in korea waiting for you with only love in his mind. wanting nothing more than to have you back in his life and to never let you go like he had done the first time. 

the image of your broken face replayed in his mind every night when he slept, thinking about the pain he must’ve put you through without knowing the full capacity of what you had to experience alone. he wished he was there by your side through every single step, holding your hand in the delivery room, taking photos of you as your stomach grew, witnessing his daughter’s first steps and first word, everything. 

but now that he was back, he was going to make sure that he didn’t miss anything else. 

you and your daughter instantly became the most important people in his life, knowing that he’d love the both of you endlessly, unconditionally, and forever. 

forever. 

something that he’d always associate with you because you are his forever and now, so is your daughter. 

love should be forever and you were forever going to be loved by him. it was like love and forever was synonymous with you because to heeseung, loving you is forever. 

⋆˚ʚɞ

ᡣ•.•𐭩♡ @pagemiah @jiiyen @jnysaln @xh01bri @rairaiblog @laurradoesloveu @17ericas @manaah02 @heeseung64 @zorange13 @firstclassjaylee @leipforggy

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[creatingblackcharacters]

could i please ask for clarification on your post here?

"But I have been questioning. I answer a lot of questions on character design. And there were a ton of submissions for the Black characters and entertainers that we loved. That is all well and good!

However, when I present an opportunity to apply, to create a piece to speak directly to a Black audience, whose support we want, who we claim to want to represent respectfully and ask for so many resources to do so... It seems like it's been a lot quieter."

does this means you would like non-Black people to share their works with Black characters here more? or am i misunderstanding? sorry for the trouble and thanks for all of your resources

It means this:

I will admit, perhaps I was too ambitious in this challenge and I might just cancel it 😅 but we can at least use this as a reflection experience. Everything is a lesson!

We live in a society that often writes media with a white audience in mind. On this page, one of my key goals is to shift your perspective to actively think about your Black audience when you create Black characters, because when you recognize and care about someone's humanity, you recognize that getting the depiction of their humanity correct matters. And thus, you should work more intentionally to get it right.

So when I asked everyone to participate in the challenge in September, to submit all their favorite Black characters and actors- a source of entertainment- everyone had a lot to say. And that was good, we should love Black characters! And every day I am being asked questions with the intent of creation, so clearly something is being attempted!

But when I ask you to apply by showing that same sort of kindness toward the people, to create something specifically for a Black audience for this one time event during Black History Month, there seems to be nerves and confusion.

And it makes me realize I asked the wrong reflection questions in the beginning, when I really should have asked... Who is this effort for, if it's not with your Black audience in mind? Do you actually care about your Black audience, or do you just care about not being perceived as antiblack? Because those are two different things, and these are things we have to be honest with ourselves over if we want to create more intentionally!

I am challenging you to do something that should not be that hard- to openly care about your audience the way you care about using their image- but is something many nonblack creators simply do not consider. And that's why their Black characters so often miss the mark!

[withacapitalp]

Stuff Me, Hug Me, Take Me Home

@stevesbipanic B HAPPY VALENTINES!!! Tis I! Your secret admirer!!! I loved this prompt and I had so much fun with it thank you so much and I hope you love it!!! Special thanks to @thefreakandthehair and @hairstevington for listening to be a little feral and insane about the first thing I'm writing in a very long time

Read on AO3 instead

If there was one place Eddie never expected to end up at on Valentine’s Day, it was the mall. 

When Steve had asked to ‘take point’ this year, Eddie had imagined a day at the lake, maybe a secret picnic, perhaps even a scenic road trip. Something that was their style. A tucked away moment, quiet and held close, so it belonged to just the two of them. 

There was no way the mall - the epicenter of American greed and capitalistic cannibalism - would have that. 

“I can’t believe I found this parking spot!” Steve crowed, tossing Eddie a winning smile as he threw the car into park and grabbed his phone from where it was charging, “Wasn’t that lucky?”

“Sure, Stevie,” Eddie agreed, trying to hide his disdain, but definitely failing given the way Steve’s smile dipped. The mall loomed over them, blocking out the sun with its oppressively boxy architecture, and Eddie couldn’t help his own glow starting to dim. 

The day had started so promisingly. Steve had woken up early and slipped out of bed without Eddie realizing, coming home with ludicrously over decorated heart shaped donuts and coffee from their favorite bakery. They had traded lazy sugar-filled kisses, cuddling and watching Labyrinth. 

Hell, Steve had even managed to almost hide how much he disliked the movie, commenting on David Bowie’s ass and conveniently ignoring the plot and puppets. He hadn’t even texted Robin all morning!

And now…well now they were at the mall. 

“Are we going to a movie or something? We could’ve just gone to The Hawk. You know IMAX movies give me headaches.” Eddie said as they exited the beemer. Steve came around the front, grabbing Eddie’s hand and squeezing it twice - their signal for needing the other person to listen. 

“Trust me?” Steve offered, chewing on the inside of his lip and giving Eddie the big puppy dog eyes he could never resist. Eddie groaned, grumbling softly to himself as he lifted their joined hands up to his lips. 

“Always,” he whispered back, sealing the promise with a kiss. 

As much as Eddie hated to admit it, the mall actually wasn’t as bad as he had imagined. His brain had conjured up tortuous images of packs of useless husbands trolling around for a cheap gift to pawn off on their wives, or hordes of angsty teens lamenting not having someone to share the holiday with. 

But at almost four in the afternoon it was sleepy, practically dead. And besides, it was hard to look around when Steve was dragging him forward with a single-minded determination. All Eddie could do was try and keep up, shooting glances at his boyfriend to try and catch his eye, wondering why Steve was suddenly loath to meet his gaze. 

Then they were stopping short, Eddie stumbling and nearly tripping as Steve let go of his hand out of nowhere. He righted himself, about to tell Steve off for acting so weird, when he looked up and was struck speechless. 

“You mentioned that you always wanted to go here, but that Wayne never had the money for it,” Steve mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck and leaning out of Eddie’s space as he continued to avoid eye contact.

Eddie had told him that, but just once. Only once. He could remember the exact moment. The two of them in the kitchen of their apartment right after the move, unpacking mugs as Eddie told the story of each one and placed it with care on the shelf. It was the last mug, the final story of that night. 

“My dad promised me he would take me to Build-a-Bear for my fifth birthday. And my sixth. And my seventh. By my eighth, I stopped answering when he asked me what I wanted, ‘cause I knew it didn’t matter. By ten I was already living with Wayne, and I didn’t even want to ask him, I knew we couldn’t afford it. Wayne found out anyway, because he’s Wayne, and so he got me this mug for my eleventh birthday, and told me it was an IOU. I don’t even know why I wanted to go to build-a-bear so badly, I just got it in my head that having my own bear would be special. Something that was mine, and always would be, you know?” 

And now here Eddie was, standing in front of an ostentatiously yellow store with his heart settled neatly in his throat. 

“I know it’s kind of silly now, because we’re almost thirty. You might not even care anymore, but I thought maybe it would be a nice Valentine’s Day gift? We could build you a bear, and then you would have him forever and always,” Steve explained, his thoughtfulness continuing to choke Eddie to death. 

Eddie didn’t believe in God, but it was hard to believe there wasn’t something looking out for him. Something had to have given him Steve. There was no way this wonderful, beautiful man just landed in his lap. 

“I’m sorry I-” Steve began, obviously misinterpreting Eddie’s silence. 

“I love it,” Eddie said, cutting off the apology before it could truly begin. 

He couldn’t let Steve doubt this, not even for a single second. Eddie cleared his throat roughly, blindly reaching out and latching onto Steve’s wrist, pulling his boyfriend close and wrapping him in the tightest hug possible as he continued to ramble.

“I do, I love it and I- thank you, Stevie. You’re so- you’re just- thank you, thank you, thank you,” 

“Easy, Eds,” Steve murmured, the tips of his ears turning pink as he pressed their cheeks together and gave Eddie a parting squeeze. Eddie let him pull away, but didn’t let him go, interlocking their fingers as he began to bounce in place. 

“We’re going to Build-a-Bear!” Eddie giggled, his joy beginning to spill all over the place.

Steve nodded, smiling just as brightly as Eddie. But, when Eddie went to pull him forward, Steve held fast, keeping them both in place. 

“There’s just one rule. I don’t want you to look at prices at all. You get whatever you want, however you want it. Got it?” Steve said with a mock stern look. Eddie opened his mouth to agree, then hesitated.

It wasn’t like they were destitute. Between Steve’s job as a sub and Eddie’s work at the garage, they were making good money. But with rent, Steve's tuition, and the regular expenses, they didn’t exactly have a lot of cash to blow on fulfilling a childhood dream. 

“I’ve been saving for this, baby. Been doing extra tutoring on the nights you were with the guys playing dungeons and dorks,” Steve admitted, a pretty blush sitting high on his cheeks. Eddie’s heart clenched up again, and he couldn’t resist dragging Steve into a chaste but forceful kiss. 

“You’re the most amazing partner, you know that, right?” Eddie whispered against his lips. Steve ducked his head, pulling away and squeezing Eddie’s fingers silently as they walked into the store.  

The store was almost empty, even quieter than the mall itself. A couple of parents were watching their daughters giggle over clothes for their new stuffed animals, and a young couple was chatting by the little clawfoot bathtubs in the back, but other than that it was just the two of them. There was some bubblegum pop playing in the background, the kind of thing Steve liked to listen to when he made dinner at night. The sound of it settled Eddie instead of setting his teeth on edge, and he couldn’t help leaning against Steve as they approached the bins of unstuffed bears. 

“Go on, pick your new friend,” Steve said, nudging Eddie forward and taking a step back to watch. 

It was easy to eliminate some choices off the bat. Eddie took away anything that was themed for Valentines, or promotional, and he pretty quickly decided against anything that wasn’t a traditional bear. Normally he would’ve loved the contrarian energy of building a dragon or a unicorn, but he wasn’t just making this for right now. This was also for the little Eddie that had dreamt of having that perfect plush bear to snuggle with at night. 

But the problem was, he had never really imagined what the bear looked like. 

“Help me?” Eddie whined, turning back to Steve who shook his head fondly but walked forward anyway. Steve perused the options for a second before reaching into a bin and pulling out a charcoal black bear with brown eyes.

“What about this one? If you give him a battle vest and a band tee he would be a mini-you,” Steve offered, holding the bear out. Eddie took it, letting his fingers run over the fur and imagining the bear properly stuffed and dressed. 

It was perfect. 

They walked past the bear bins, up to a stand with plastic cases and the words “HEAR ME” above it in bright red letters. 

“Okay, one more rule for today. Cover your ears and turn around,” Steve ordered, putting his hands on his hips and giving Eddie a no-nonsense look. Eddie raised a brow, briefly considering putting up a fight, just for the heck of it. 

But there was something in Steve’s face, a glint in his eyes that just bordered on the edge of panic and a crook in his smile that made it sit not quite straight on his face. Whatever he was doing, it was probably something big. 

So, instead of being a gremlin, Eddie remained obedient, turning on his heel and cupping his ears, humming one of the band’s latest creations for good measure. He managed to get all the way through the first two choruses and up to the bridge before he felt a soft hand on his shoulder and opened his eyes. 

“Time for the best part,” Steve said in a soft sing-song tone, pushing Eddie towards the machine filled with stuffing where an employee was patiently waiting for them. 

“Hi there, guys!” She said with a bright grin, “My name is Rosie, and I’m here to help you bring your friend to life.”

Steve, being the amazing boyfriend he was, somehow sensed Eddie’s hesitancy, speaking for both of them as they got closer. “I’m Steve, and that’s Eddie. It’s his first time here.” 

“That’s so great! Okay so I am going to stuff your new friend exactly how you’d like him, then you’re going to pick a heart out of this box and follow all my instructions,” she explained in a patient but authoritative tone that reminded Eddie so much of Nancy he almost laughed out loud. He willingly handed over the bear, watching as she lined him up with the machine. 

“Firm or soft?” 

“Soft,” Eddie answered automatically, going with his gut. 

Rosie nodded and went through the process of stuffing the bear, methodically filling up each paw and giving them a good squeeze before handing the bear to Eddie for a quick check. 

“Before we do the heart ceremony, do you want to add a smell to your bear? We have some of our scents here, and I can go to the back and get you any one off this list if you want.” She offered as Eddie held his bear close. 

“Remember our rule,” Steve whispered loudly in his ear, and Eddie rolled his eyes, his heart almost filled to the bursting. He pointed out a lemon scent on the list and they watched Rosie leave to grab it. 

“Why lemon?” Steve asked, cocking his head to one side. 

“Reminds me of how the house smells on Sundays,” Eddie replied. “All your favorite cleaning products smell like lemons, and all you drink from May to September is lemonade.” 

“It’s a refreshing smell,” Steve grumbled, not a trace of heat in his tone. Eddie chuckled and pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

“Whatever you say, Lemon Boy,” he managed to get out just as Rosie returned, a yellow bear paw held in her hand. 

“Now while I put this in and add some final touches, you choose your heart and then we will do the heart ceremony.” She instructed. 

Eddie peered into the box, his eyes immediately locking onto a plaid heart. He plucked it out, showing it to Steve who couldn’t resist laughing. It was the exact same pattern as the god-awful wallpaper he had in his room when they first started dating, and, without words, they both knew what they were thinking about. 

“Okay, are you ready?” 

Eddie nodded, bouncing on the balls of his feet as Rosie stood in front of them and held out her hands. 

“So you’re going to hold the heart just like this,” she demonstrated, cupping her hands and beginning to rub her palms together, “and you’re going to make the heart all nice and warm and toasty for your new buddy over there!” 

Eddie followed her directions to the letter as she had him flip the heart and tap three times (“To wake up his heart and get it beating!”) and lifted the heart up to the sky and waved it back and forth to give his bear very high hopes. He even turned in a circle, delighting in listening to Steve laugh at his antics. 

This was the exact kind of thing Eddie loved to do most - put on a show and lose himself in being a little silly. 

“Now, rub the heart down your back, that way your buddy always has your back. Rub it down your side, so they stay by your side forever and always. Rub it across your cheeks, so your buddy is always smiling each and every day, and hold the heart to your chest to make a nice big wish!” 

Eddie paused for a second, closing his eyes and taking a second to think. He had lots of wishes. He wished his van would hold out for just one more paycheck, that the kids would enjoy the campaign he put together for them. He wanted Wayne to stay healthy, for Steve to pass his classes, for someone, anyone, to find the band and give them their big shot. 

But there was one wish that was more important than the rest. 

“The last thing is giving it a nice big kiss, so your buddy is always full of love.” Rosie said with a flourish. 

Eddie was about to lift the heart to his lips when he paused, turning to Steve and holding it out. Steve’s lip curled in a small, indulgent, smile, and he leaned forward, pressing a long kiss right in the middle of the fabric heart. The edge of his lip touched Eddie’s thumb, sending a shiver down his spine. 

From there the process moved quickly. Rosie sewed up his bear with deadly efficiency, and Eddie and Steve tag teamed the wall of outfits to find the perfect battle vest for Eddie’s bear. Before he knew it, Eddie was sat at a tiny little computer with his bear in his lap and Steve’s chin hooked over his shoulder, both of them staring down at the blank bear birth certificate.

“I don’t know what to name him,” Eddie moaned, leaning back against Steve, who appeared to be deep in thought. 

“Beddie.”

“Beddie?” Eddie repeated incredulously, turning to look at Steve properly. 

“Bear Eddie,” Steve shrugged, as if that made any sense at all. “He does look just like you.”

Eddie snorted, leaning forward and typing out the name, then hesitating and typing some more. 

“What do you think?” he asked, trying to hide the sudden nerves that were lighting up his veins. The last name wasn’t a huge risk to take, but it meant something, something far more than either of them were willing to admit just yet. 

“Perfect,” Steve said with a kiss pressed to Eddie’s cheek. 

And that was how Beddie Bearington ended up nestled between Eddie and Steve that night as they lounged on the couch. Steve had fallen asleep two episodes deep into their Survivor binge, and Eddie was content to stay exactly where he was for at least a few more hours. He dipped his head down, pressing his face to the center of the bear’s chest and smelling the candied lemon scent that permeated through the fur. As he continued to cuddle his bear, Eddie felt something hard and square in the left paw. He pulled back, perplexed by the sudden change, carefully feeling around the object and wondering what it might be. 

With a jolt, Eddie finally put together Steve’s behavior from before. He had somehow hidden a  sound box inside Eddie’s bear, that was the secret Steve hadn’t let him hear before. Eddie slapped his forehead with a palm, unable to believe he could’ve missed something so obvious. The boys would’ve had words to say about their DM being so unobservant. 

Eddie took a cursory look down to make sure Steve was still asleep, and then pressed it, putting the bear's paw up to his ear. He had expected a song, or even some funny sound. 

Nothing could have prepared him for the soft tone of Steve’s voice, fulfilling the secret wish he had put into his bear’s heart. 

“Hi Eddie, it’s me, your boyfriend, Steve. I want you to know that you are the funniest, sweetest, most creative person I know, and I’m so happy that I get to love you…because I do. I love you, Eddie.” 

“It’s true,” a voice whispered from below. Eddie moved the bear and there was Steve, staring up at him. “Sorry I couldn’t say it before.”

“I love you too,” Eddie whispered, almost in awe that he could finally say it and hear it back. 

He could hear it whenever he wanted. Eddie pressed the button on the box again just because he could. Steve’s words filled the air as Eddie nestled Beddie into the couch and dipped his head down, hair falling in a curtain around them as they shared another kiss. 

[rwshfordgirl]

"I HOPE THEY LIKE ME."

all images were taken from pinterest.

where he meets her parents for the first time.

pairing: hector fort x reader!

a/n: the last one 💔 i feel like i could have developed it more but i hope you like it.

𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬

"Cariño, you look good in anything." I said looking at my cell phone screen watching Hector try to choose an outfit. "I just want to make a good impression." He said as he changed his shirt for the thousandth time.  "Just wear the clothes you normally wear, my parents don't care about that." I tried to calm him down.

My parents know who Hector is, I just don't know if they remember him, but we studied together in the early years of school. We weren't close, but we stayed together because of our friendships. I lost contact with him when I moved to Valencia because my grandmother had become ill and my mother decided it was best for us to stay close to her, and she certainly wouldn't live in Barcelona even if you offered her all the money in the world.

So I spent four years there, I would come to Barcelona every now and then to sort things out with my parents but I didn't stay for long. I remember when I left, my friends organized a farewell snack after school, it felt like I was going to the other side of the world. And my favorite memory of that day is Hector saying, "I'm going to miss you so much, don't forget me." And I replayed that phrase in my head every day before I went to sleep.

Until I got back to Barcelona, I went with some friends to a birthday party for someone I didn't know and do you know what was the first thing I saw? Hector Fort, leaning against the wall and laughing uncontrollably at something his friends had said to him. He stopped laughing when he saw me, waved and came walking towards me excitedly, the huge smile on his face almost made me fall apart. "Why didn't you tell me you were back?" he said hugging me.

That hug changed my life. After that we spent the night talking, every detail about how our lives had changed was shared. Before I knew it, I was already going to Barcelona games, I sent him good luck messages and worst of all, I lied to my parents every time I met him. 

But it was on a random Wednesday where I was sitting on the couch watching a movie with my mother, I opened my cell phone, went into the gallery and turned the phone towards her. "Your son-in-law." She almost spat out the water she was drinking. "Seriously? Why haven't I met him yet? Why hasn't he come here yet?" Later that day, my father came to my room. "Your mother told me about Hector." I smiled, but the tone in his voice was serious and I felt apprehensive "I'm only accepting this relationship because he's one of ours! Visca el Barca." He made me laugh and then closed the bedroom door.

"You're coming to my house on the 15th, don't forget." I sent him an audio message. "Why? Are your parents going to be there?" He replied by text and then sent me a playful photo, but I could already feel that Fort was nervous from the start. "Yes boy, they want to meet you."

Hector arrived about forty minutes after the video call, I was waiting for him on the porch. "I told you you looked beautiful either way." I kissed him as he approached, in his hands he had a bag and a bouquet of flowers. "I'll give you your present later." he said as he held out his hand to me. I gently pulled him into the house, my mother was finishing the food in the kitchen and my father was watching the news in the living room.

"I hope they like me." he commented and I smiled without showing my teeth, I gave him a little kiss on the cheek. "it's impossible not to like you." I replied. My father looked at us when he saw us approaching, he promptly stood up smiling and already offering his hand to my boyfriend. "Hector Fort in my house, what a privilege!" he said and I felt Fort's cheeks blush "Thank you for having me, sir! I was looking forward to meeting you." Fort was so nervous, I wanted to hug him "We've only heard good things about you! I hope you and my daughter work out." my father patted him on the shoulder.

My mother appeared in the room all happy, she greeted Hector with a tight hug. "Make yourself at home." she told him.  The player gave her the bouquet and an autographed Barcelona shirt to my father, and I knew that he had won my parents' hearts. My mother loves flowers and my father loves Barcelona.

"My brother-in-law just lost his position as favorite son-in-law to you." I commented before giving him a peck on the lips. "He's going to hate me." Hector commented. "I told you it's impossible not to like you."

[shiro-s2e2-erukinzu]

Anime only watchers and people who aren't caught up with the Manga, BEWARE... Cuz I'm about to discuss Spy X Family Mission 112 (Part 1)... You have been warned...! 👌

[SPOILERS AHEAD FROM THIS POINT ON]

THIS CHAPTER WAS BOTH FUN & FUNNY!!! 😆 Plus, IT'S ANOTHER MUTI-PARTER!?!? 😵 (We haven't had a chapter split into multiple parts since Mission 67, back in 2022!! 😌)

That's right folks, we got ourselves another chapter split into parts, and it's a fun one so far!! 😄 Endo has done this three times before this chapter with Missions 58 (2 parts), 62 (3 parts), and 67 (2 parts); so now I wonder how many parts will this chapter have (my guess is that it's gonna be a two parter...! 👌😌) But enough of all that mumbo jumbo that probably only I care about, let's finally talk about the chapter in question, shall we...? 😉

So this chapter begins with Twilight trying to wake up Anya because it's time for her to return to Eden...!! 😲

But... Since Anya is freaking relatable AS HELL, she doesn't want to go and tries to come up with anything to get out of going back to school, even claiming to be sick...!! 👌😌 Loid, of course, doesn't believe her, but since Yor is the best mom ever, she wants to make absolutely sure that Anya isn't actually sick, which leads to this:

This family, I swear... 😌

At school, Anya (who actually thought about this before Twilight woke her up) tries to find out from Damian if his dad can truly read minds by asking "What's your dad like? Is he super scary?", but...:

...It didn't really work, so Anya gave up immediately... 😅 This girl, I swear...!! 😌

Then, two of Anya's classmates come to greet her and Becky, AND NOW THEY FINALLY HAVE NAMES!! 😆

We've seen Connie and Meg pop up in several other chapters before this one, but now they are officially out of the "Characters Who Have Shown Up Multiple Times, But Don't Have A Name" Club...!! 🎊 And I'm especially excited that Connie has a name now because she was featured in one of the early Omakes and even Franky commented on her (as seen in the image below):

Which in turn had made me wonder if Anya and her would eventually become friends at some point...!! 😄 Well, that time might be now because Anya was just reminded that she and everyone else will all be in different classes now (though, Becky specifies that they'll only be in different classes for the subjects that were on the test, so at least they'll still have some classes together...!)

Speaking of which, we see that Anya and Damian have at least have Language Studies together, so that's good...!! 😁 Then, Anya heads to her next class with a bunch of new faces and some that we recognize, including Arnold Crowley and Connie, who got pushed by someone, then Anya read her mind and well...:

...She's actually kinda scary...! 😰

So um, yeah... I'm not 100% sure if her and Anya will be friends quite yet...! 😅 Then, we get introduced to two other kids; some prince from the north named Tertius...:

...And this kid...:

...Who might've just become a favorite of mine...!! 😆 (I think that he's pretty dang funny so far...!! 😂)

Closed Eyes Kid apparently flicked a booger onto that Tertius kid and now he's got to GET RID OF THE EVIDENCE before anyone notices...!! 😎:

So when Closed Eyes Kid tried to get rid of the booger on Tertius' face, Tertius just kept dodging him, and now it seems that these two are gonna fight each other...!! 😵

And that's the end of the chapter!! Anya is sure having an eventful day on first day back at Eden...!! 😌

This chapter was really fun, I loved it!! 😄 I honestly hope that Anya makes some new friends, especially with Closed Eyes Kid (he's my favorite so far 😁), Connie (maybe? 🤷) and possibly Arnold Crowley (he actually seems like a pretty nice kid so far...! 👌😌)

So yeah, I'm excited for the next half of this chapter and pretty sure that it's just gonna be a two parter (though, who knows at this point because I never know what Endo is gonna do...!! 😌) Anyway, until the next Mission; take care, be safe out there and be kind to one another...!! LATER ALLIGATORS!! 👋😁

[funnypages]

More examination of stills from Wheel of Time Season 3 Trailer

Perrin with his golden eyes. I saw some people concerned they would just have them show up when he uses his abilities, but no looks like they are permanent

Perrin in an apple orchard. Book people know the significance

Nukâka Coster-Waldau as the Aeil Wise One Bair

This scene. When I listen to the audio books of this chapter for the first time, I started tearing up. My god this moment is one of my favorite in the books, and in the entire series

Elayne's brother Gawyn and half brother Gallad sparing in the White Tower courtyard, and in the second image we can see they are being watched by Elayne, Matt, and Nynaeve

Won't say who these are as its a minor spoiler, but they are the best archers in all of Wheel of Time

No idea who this is but based of clothes, i've seen some speculate its Egwane

So note the guy in the front, I think that is the bearded Rand we see at another point in the trailer. Which leads me to suspect these are the Da'shain REDACTED

[silenzahra]

Today marks a year since my very first Luaisy fic was originally posted, so I decided to bring it back with a reblog and to also add the beautiful song that inspired the dancing scene that takes place in chapter two 💚🧡

To this day I still remember how much I enjoyed writing this story. I loved imagining how a first date between the two sweeties would go, their interactions, their teasing... and also adding a little bit of my own headcanons into the mix, specifically some of Luigi's hobbies. And of course, I had a BLAST with both the dancing and the kissing scenes 🥹🥹 They were my most favorite to write as they allowed me to give free rain to all the passion and the many emotions that this couple makes me feel 💚🧡

The dancing one specifically, I have the image so clear in my head that I just wish I'd be able to bring it to life other than just with words. That's how much I love it, not just for them but also for the beautiful and magical music 🥰💖

I want to thank everyone who supported this story ever since I first posted it a year ago, and I hope it's okay that I tagged a few more friends just in case you'd like to check it out! (Totally fine if you don't, of course 💖) It's a very special fic for me as it was my very first time writing my favorite couple and it holds a very special place in my heart 💚🧡 And it also means the entire world to me that it remains as some of my closest friends' favorite story that I've written! 🥹💖

PS: In case you're also looking for some Mareach sweetness, I posted a little something today that's entirely new (and also inspired by music hehe)! You can find it here 👇🏻

Thank you all so so much! 💖💖💖

Green, Orange and a bit of Purple✨

This story was originally written and posted on 14th February 2024 in two different posts. My dear friend @itsavee4117 reblogged them, which I obviously appreciate, but I'm afraid some time after he did, I edited both posts to add the chapters to Tumblr so people could read them here as well.

That's why I thought of redoing them, and I decided to share the entire story in just one post so as not to drive everyone crazy 😅 You can find it on AO3, where you'll see it's divided into two chapters (and I even added a title to them 🤭), or read under the cut to find the entire fic. It's long though, so make sure to grab a snack and/or a drink and take all the time you need. Of course, likes, comments, kudos and reblogs are always more than welcome! 💖

My original source of inspiration was @sarahrsketches's comic Plumber's Bouquet, which you can see dubbed here!

Special thanks to @itsavee4117 @whippedcremepi and @mario-movie-brainbug for reblogging the old posts and to @elitadream for leaving such wonderful feedback on them 💖 (You can find them here and here if you're curious).

For those of you who will read this for the first time or would even like to give it a reread: I really hope you enjoy! Thank you so much for your support, and please remember that my asks and PMs are always open for you. Reblogs are deeply appreciated 💖

Also, this story got many lovely comments on AO3, which I'm obviously very thankful for! Still, it didn't get much feedback here on Tumblr (no disrespect to those mentioned above of course 🫂). I hope it's not too much to ask, but would you please consider leaving some feedback here, even if it's just one sentence? 🙏 I'd love to hear your thoughts on my beloved Luaisy story! 🥰

Before I go, I'd like to add yet another source of inspiration, specifically for the dancing scene: the beautiful and magical music from Howl's Moving Castle 💖

@vulpixfairy1985 @bberetd @peaches2217 @ask-rosalina-and-her-family @aqua-peri @kimasousparky @megamagimugi @pepperycar @teegeeteegee @kelbreyworshipper @artycomicfangirl @smokszyvverstar @doodleydoo101 @eleventhhourfactor @roscolate @c-lavanda @pinkcreamypeach

(Of course, if you want your tag removed, just let me know! 💖)

Without further ado: Luaisy for the soul! 💚🧡✨

Chapter 1: The beginning of the date

Luigi can’t believe it.

What he has been wishing for months is finally going to happen.

His first date with Daisy is about to begin.

Nervously, he smooths out the green shirt he’s wearing, the most elegant in his closet, so that there’s not a single wrinkle on it. From the corner where he waits, the one closest to his building, he takes quick and constant glances at the pipe through which Daisy is going to arrive, located at his back. Fortunately, it’s hidden in a seldom-traveled alley, so the chances of New Yorkers stumbling upon it by accident are slim. Of all the pipes in Brooklyn that are connected to the Mushroom Kingdom, this is the one closest to Luigi and Mario’s former home.

Which makes it the perfect pipeline for the brothers and their new friends to travel between dimensions while going unnoticed by the inhabitants of Earth.

As he patiently and with growing anxiety awaits Daisy’s arrival, Luigi goes over and over in his head the places in his city that he wants to show her. Everything will be fine, he repeats himself. He has been planning this date for months, long before he could even muster the courage to ask Daisy to go out with him.

He recalls that instant in his head very often. The way his legs trembled. His dry throat. His back sweating from nerves. How he kept fiddling with his fingers as, step by step, he approached the spot where Daisy was sitting in the garden of Peach’s castle, with whom she was having a lively conversation. Mario’s words of encouragement echoed in his head, along with the sentences they had rehearsed together so Luigi could say them to Daisy later. He remembers that Mario was waiting for him not far from there, hidden behind a corner and ready to intervene should Luigi require his aid. He remembers that Peach, as soon as she saw him arrive, apologized to Daisy and hurried to join Mario, giving Luigi a quick nod of encouragement as she passed him.

He remembers that Daisy, upon noticing his presence, smiled and greeted him by waving her hand with her usual energy, which made a smile blossom on Luigi’s lips. He remembers that, when he finally reached her side, she got up to give him a quick hug, causing his heart to bounce in his chest and her sweet vanilla scent to envelop him, before inviting him to sit next to her.

Of course, Luigi obeyed. Smiling nervously, he listened to her chatter for a few minutes, his eyes fixed on the dimples that appeared when she smiled and on the constellation of freckles that dotted her cheeks. Meanwhile, he was trying to find the right moment to start talking and the courage to push the words out of his mouth. From the corner of his eye, he distinguished that Mario and Peach, from their hideout, were gesturing to him. She did so discreetly and sweetly, but he was waving his arms and vocalizing in an exaggerated way, to incite him to finally start.

And Luigi, after swallowing, chose to do it in the same way as when removing a band-aid: in one go and without thinking.

“Daisy.”

His voice was barely a nervous whisper, but it was enough for the desert princess to interrupt herself and give him a warm smile.

“Yes, honey?”

“Er...” Luigi looked down, flustered by the affectionate nickname, and took a deep breath before continuing. “I-I thought that... W-well, I thought that m-maybe... you’d like to... c-come to B-Brooklyn?”

He scolded himself for his stammering. He’d practiced endlessly with Mario until he managed to deliver his sentences without stuttering, but standing in front of Daisy, the first person he’d been drawn to in a very, very long time, and trying to carry out the plan as intended was a very different thing.

“Luigi.” Her voice, full of curiosity, caught Luigi’s attention, making him set his eyes on her at last. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

Her voice sounded defiant, of course, but Daisy accompanied it with a mischievous and amusing look that Luigi even found... suggestive? No, he must have been imagining it, he was too nervous and his eagerness to spend more time with her was playing a trick on him, Daisy could not be...

... Or could she?

“Uh-huh... W-well, uh...”

What should he answer now? Why hadn’t it occurred to Mario that Daisy might react like this? Why hadn’t it occurred to him?

“W-well, uh, I-I don’t know, I mean, o-only if you want to, I mean, I thought you might want to, but if you don’t, it’s okay! Of course you don’t want to, why would you, it’s a stupid idea, I-I’m very sorry...”

With every mumble that escaped his mouth, he felt himself shrinking more and more, to such an extent that he wished he could disappear, bury his head in the ground like an ostrich and never have made that suggestion to Daisy. Why did he think she would be interested? Why did he think she would want to spend time with a simple, clumsy, skittish plumber like him?

However, Daisy surprised him with a soft chuckle in which there was no trace of mockery, but rather... tenderness?

“Oh, Luigi,” she exclaimed, and slapped him on the shoulder so hard that Luigi thought she had just broken a bone. “Don’t underestimate yourself, sweetie! Of course I want to!”

Despite the pain in his back, Luigi sat up like a spring and turned to her with wide eyes.

“R-really?”

“Of course!” Daisy nodded vigorously, her grin so wide that it brought back those dimples that made Luigi feel like he was melting inside. “I really want to see Brooklyn, and I can’t think of a better guide than you!” she added with a wink.

With his back leaning against the red bricks so characteristic of his district, Luigi smiles, his cheeks flushed at the memory. Daisy’s joy at his suggestion was genuine, as was her eagerness to tour Brooklyn with him. Luigi really hopes, wishes, to be up to the task and get Daisy to have fun by his side. He fiddles with the flower he holds in his fingers and wonders if the desert princess will be much longer in coming.

He can’t wait to see her again.

A hand on his shoulder startles him so much that he lets out a shriek and is about to drop the flower. At the last moment, he manages to hold it close to his chest and places his other hand around its petals to protect it. As his fluttering heart tries to calm down, he hears a well-known chuckle, and a familiar and adored vanilla scent reaches his nose.

“D-Daisy,” he mumbles with a smile, beginning to turn his head.

“Sorry, honey,” she apologizes. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Luigi is about to reply that it’s okay, that it’s his fault for being so easily scared, but he can’t do it.

He’s speechless.

Daisy looks gorgeous. More than that: she looks stunning, dazzling, radiant. Her pretty auburn hair shimmers in the evening sunlight, and a sparkle under her ears reveals the golden, daisy-shaped earrings she has chosen for the occasion. Her lovely eyes, as deep blue as the sea, gaze at Luigi with affection. He notices the eye shadow that Daisy has applied, a beautiful shade of purple that matches the full skirt she is wearing, which reveals the lower half of her legs. Her sandals, on the other hand, are orange, and the heel of them causes Luigi to see her even taller and slimmer than usual. Her blouse, matching her shoes, is adorned with yellow flower patterns, and leaves her slender shoulders bare. As he notices them, Luigi swallows, wondering what it would feel like to put an arm across them and thus touch her beautiful skin, just to see firsthand if it’s as soft to the touch as it seems.

But what catches his attention, no matter how hard he tries to avoid it, are her lips. Daisy often puts on lipstick, but today she’s wearing a nice earthy color that matches her beautiful brown skin, and Luigi is seized by the sudden and compelling need to find out what they taste like. He reddens immediately and chides himself. This may be a date and they may have both dressed up for the occasion, but it’s not like him, nor right for Daisy, that that, kissing her, is all he can think about at that moment.

He wants to say something, anything, make some silly joke to try to relax and make her feel welcome, but only one word comes to his mind.

“Beautiful,” he whispers.

Daisy covers her mouth with her hand to hide a giggle as her freckled cheeks light up under the blush she has applied.

“You think so?” she says playfully. “How cute.”

Luigi gasps. Did he just say that word... out loud? He feels his whole face burning immediately with embarrassment, and he’s about to apologize when he finds Daisy looking him up and down intently.

Suddenly he feels ragged, disheveled, very far from the elegance of the young princess. Almost unintentionally, he takes a quick glance at himself, searching for any wrinkles or stains on his green shirt or his blue jeans, even though he has carefully washed and ironed them for the occasion. His brown shoes are also shiny, as he has rubbed them incessantly, and he has used more shampoo than usual when showering, as well as making sure that not a single hair was left out of place when combing his hair. Including his moustache.

All in the hope of making a good impression on Daisy, but it wasn't enough. How could it be? He works non-stop day after day, he gets dirty often, so he's sure he's left something out, some tiny detail that he's missed because of his nerves, and Daisy has noticed it immediately and is judging him and is going to leave at once, because how could she want to go out with him?

“Handsome,” she then says, slowly, looking him in the eye.

“Wh-what?”

“You just used an adjective to describe me,” Daisy says, and winks at him. “So I just used another one to describe you.”

Again, Luigi is speechless. He pants, trying to find his voice, but he feels like a fish that has been plucked from the sea and thrown to the bottom of a volcano. A green, clumsy fish that doesn’t know how to react to the fact that the girl he’s getting crazier and crazier about every day has just paid him a compliment. To him, no less. Does that mean, then, that there’s no problem with his appearance?

In a reflex action born out of fear that Daisy will laugh at him or, worse, get tired of waiting for an answer and leave, Luigi stretches out his arm in her direction. She gives a start and looks down, and a beautiful smile lights up her face when she notices the gift he is offering her.

“A daisy?” she says, delighted, and brings both joined hands to her cheek. “And it’s purple!”

“Y-yes,” he manages to murmur, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I-I grow them in my garden, in my house in the Mushroom Kingdom.”

“I love it! Thanks, Luigi!”

Daisy reaches out with both hands to take the flower, and Luigi struggles to ignore the tingle of excitement that runs up and down his body as her fingers brush his and send a pleasant electric shock sensation to his nerve endings. Daisy brings the flower to her face to inhale its scent and admires its pretty purple petals with delight. Luigi smiles tenderly as he sees her take the aster to her head to try and pin it in her hair.

“Wait,” he offers without thinking, reaching out his arms to her. “I’ll help you.”

Daisy slowly lowers her hands and lets him do it. Luigi holds the stem of the flower and carefully moves a lock of Daisy’s silky hair aside, taking care not to muss it. He places the plant so that it’s held securely to the side of her face and its purple petals sparkle almost level with Daisy’s lovely blue eyes. Which, Luigi suddenly notices, are watching him attentively. Surprised, he turns away from Daisy and takes a step back while letting out a nervous giggle, blushing again. He hadn’t even noticed coming so close to her, nor that his tongue, as it usually does when he’s focused on something, was sticking out between his lips.

Fortunately, although Daisy is observing him with interest and a wide smile on her face, she does not utter a word. She just stares at him, as if seeing him for the first time, and Luigi suddenly finds himself at a loss for what to do with his arms.

“W-well... D-do you want to...?”

He points forward with his hand, unable to finish the question, as his throat feels dry and he needs to drink urgently. Daisy’s jump, as if her mind had wandered away from there and just suddenly returned, disconcerts him and makes him wonder if he has inadvertently done something wrong because of his usual clumsiness.

But Daisy soon pulls herself together and gives him a dazzling smile.

“Sure!” she exclaims enthusiastically. “Where are we going?”

“Not far from here.”

Luigi starts walking in the direction of Punch-Out Pizzeria, which is almost at the end of the street. It’s one of his favorite places in Brooklyn and he can’t wait for Daisy to try their famous pizzas. He really hopes she likes them, because then he’ll always have an excuse to invite her to dinner.

As they walk down the street, Daisy stops to look in the windows of the various stores they pass. She points at them with her finger, which she presses against the glass, and talks to Luigi about how much or how little she likes the products for sale and how exorbitant or affordable she finds them depending on the price. He listens to her without interrupting and smiles, his heart full of tenderness at the genuine enthusiasm with which she examines everything.

When they get to the bookstore, however, it is she who listens to him talk. This is Luigi’s favorite bookstore, the one he goes to at least once a week to browse through the new releases and, if possible, take home a new book. The same thing happens when they reach the florist’s shop, although this time the enthusiasm is shared, as they both have a passion for gardening.

By the time they finally get ready to enter the pizzeria, it’s almost dark. Luigi can’t help but be surprised, as the walk from his house to the establishment usually takes him no more than five minutes. But he’s not going to complain, since, almost unintentionally, he’s had a chance to take a nice walk with Daisy and show her two of his other favorite places in Brooklyn besides the pizzeria.

Luigi opens the door and steps aside with an exaggerated bow.

“After you, milady,” he pronounces with feigned refinement.

He hears Daisy let out a soft chuckle that, unexpectedly, makes him feel connected to her in a way he’s unable to explain.

“Very gallant, gentleman,” she replies as she passes him, imitating his tone.

Luigi stands up straight, laughing as well, and enters after her. Daisy moves to a free table by the window and Luigi follows her without hesitation. He feels strange: on the one hand, he’s on familiar ground, in the pizzeria he has been coming to with his brother since they were teenagers, which floods him with an intense sense of security so powerful that he believes nothing could bring it down. In fact, he knows for sure that, if he’s been able to make that little joke with Daisy when opening the door for her, it’s thanks to that feeling.

On the other hand, his companion is none other than the ruler of the Kingdom of Sarasaland. A warrior and brave princess who’s won his heart with her exorbitant and inexhaustible energy, her desire to prove herself all the time and her lively personality. A princess, a young woman, who has the power to make him feel as if his limbs were made of butter, his face a burning coal and his heart, an organ foreign to his body that belongs entirely to Daisy, so that it accelerates like a runaway horse when she is near.

And now she is near.

She’s sitting across from him, flipping through the menu, but the tables at the Punch-Out Pizzeria aren’t too wide. Luigi knows that, if he stretched his arms out just a little, there’s a good chance Daisy’s hands would brush against him when she drops the menu. He swallows. Should he do it or not? Would it be too bold? Would it be too brazen to try to hold her hand? Would Daisy even want their fingers to touch?

“What do you recommend?” she asks, her eyes still fixed on the food list.

Luigi gasps. He feels as if he’s been caught red-handed, as if he’s been doing something wrong. He shakes his head a little and ducks it to see his own menu as he tries to sort out his thoughts to answer Daisy.

“W-well, Mario and I always order the bell pepper pizzas.”

“Let me guess,” she asks him, her voice laden with a challenge that causes Luigi to look up, curious, and their eyes meet over the table. “He orders the red bell pepper, and you order the green bell pepper.”

Luigi laughs and rubs the back of his neck, his cheeks slightly flushed.

“Is it that obvious?” he asks, embarrassed.

Daisy laughs softly, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, just below the flower.

“Actually, I just went by the colors you two usually wear. Is it a coincidence that your favorite colors match your favorite pizzas?”

“I guess so.”

Luigi shrugs and she giggles again.

“If there was a purple pizza, I’d order it,” she states, returning her attention to the menu.

“You can try mine if you want to.”

Luigi purses his lips as he realizes he just said that out loud. It’s just a silly idea that has crossed his mind, but Daisy most likely doesn’t want to share. Why would she? He should’ve thought better before saying such a silly thing.

To his surprise, however, Daisy looks at him decisively and nods.

“What’s your second favorite pizza?” she asks, very seriously, pointing her finger at him.

“Er… C-carbonara,” he stammers, dumbfounded.

“Perfect.” Daisy picks up both cards and winks at him. “How about we order carbonara and green bell pepper? Then we can both try each other’s pizza.”

Relief floods Luigi with the intensity of the swell. Daisy’s solution seems perfect, so, trying hard to overcome his shyness, he raises his arm to call the waiter and places their orders. When the man leaves, Luigi places both elbows on the table and drops his hands over the edge of the table, close to his stomach. He doesn’t know where to look, so he wanders his gaze absentmindedly around the room.

Inevitably, his eyes end up meeting Daisy’s, so he forces himself to compose a smile. He’s so nervous, however, that it comes out weak and insecure.

But Daisy doesn’t seem to notice.

“Well,” she says lightly, also leaning on the table, and watches him intently. “So what else do you like to do?”

“Uh... Sorry?” Luigi feels lost.

“Apart from reading and gardening,” she says, smiling sweetly at him. “What other hobbies do you have, Luigi?”

“Oh! W-well...” Luigi shrinks back a little. Will he bore her if he goes into detail about his other hobbies? “I-I like photography. I like... to be able to save an instant, a memory, a place, and freeze them in time so that they become eternal.”

“Wow,” she exclaims admiringly. “That’s very profound.”

“Really?”

Luigi looks at her with wide eyes, unable to believe that, as is practically his case with the rest of the world, Daisy doesn’t think he’s being too intense or ridiculous in expressing himself that way. The young woman nods vigorously, a sincere smile glowing on her face, and her expression of sheer interest is all Luigi needs to launch into speaking.

He tells her that sometimes ideas or images come to his mind, and he needs to get them out of his head, to bring them to life. They drive him to write or draw, depending on what comes to him, which is why he collects notebooks and sketchbooks. He tells her that, every Christmas, he gives his brother a wool garment he knits himself, because Mario is quite a mess and his clothes hardly last from one year to the next. He tells her that on Saturday nights, he and Mario stay up late watching a movie in the living room of their new home, and that they always have trouble choosing because their tastes are so opposite. She listens to him, attentive, and from time to time lets out a giggle or makes a comment but does not interrupt him. Luigi, finally, tells her that on Sunday afternoons, and sometimes also on Fridays, he and Mario play videogames, and at his explanation about them, Daisy’s eyes light up more and more.

“That sounds amazing!” she exclaims, excited. “Oh my gosh, now I need to try those... What are they called?”

“Videogames,” Luigi clarifies, and leans forward, his eyes sparkling, sharing Daisy’s enthusiasm. “And you’re more than welcome to come try them out! I’m sure Mario would love to play with someone who’s not as clumsy as I am,” he adds with a laugh.

“Oh, I’m sure you’re not that bad.” Daisy playfully punches him in the shoulder, which makes Luigi’s giggles increase. “Keep in mind that I’ve never played. Of course you’re going to be better than me!”

“That is, until you get the hang of it,” Luigi says, massaging his shoulder. “And I’m sure it won’t take you long at all.”

“Well, thank you for your blind faith in me!”

Daisy laughs too and brings a hand to her chest, but, in the midst of their chuckles, she stops and gives him another intense glance. Luigi’s laughter barely lasts a couple more seconds before it stops abruptly, as he feels overwhelmed by the intensity of her deep blue eyes.

“You’re very sweet, Luigi. Did you know that?”

Daisy’s cheeks glow as she utters those words, but her smile remains, serene and confident, no trace of nervousness or embarrassment on her beautiful face. Quite the opposite of Luigi, who is convinced he could fry an egg on his forehead.

“Th-thank you,” he mumbles, looking away, and rubs the back of his neck again, flustered.

Daisy giggles.

“And you look so cute when you do that.”

Luigi’s blush grows, which causes Daisy’s laughter to increase in turn, and Luigi, despite his rosy cheeks, suddenly finds himself feeling that he can go on behaving like this forever if it will make her chuckle in such an uninhibited and sincere way.

At that moment, luckily, the pizzas finally arrive, accompanied by their drinks, and the young woman’s attention turns to the food. She contemplates both pizzas attentively, almost as if they were works of art, and this time it is Luigi who has to hide a giggle. He watches, expectantly, as Daisy takes her first bite of her carbonara pizza, and waits, on the edge of his seat, for the girl to pronounce her verdict. Her face, thoughtful as she chews, doesn’t even hint at a simple clue, which makes Luigi, almost without realizing it, hold his breath.

Until Daisy, after swallowing, gives him a beaming smile.

“It’s delicious!” she nearly squeals, waving her other hand in the air in excitement.

“Yes!” Luigi exclaims in turn and raises a victorious fist.

For the next few minutes, he finds himself devouring, not even knowing how, small bites of both pizzas, his and Daisy’s. He cackles, half surprised, half overwhelmed, when Daisy, without so much as by his leave, moves her head forward to take a rather savage bite of the slice of green bell pepper pizza he holds in his hand. Her expression is so delighted, so self-satisfied, that Luigi can only cover his mouth with his free hand to try to stifle the fit of laughter that assails him.

After finishing the pizza, Luigi suggests they have some tiramisu. And, if Daisy was already impressed by the flavor of the pizzas, she’s completely thrilled when she tastes the dessert.

“Oh my goodness, Luigi,” she mumbles after devouring the last slice. “No wonder this is your favorite place in Brooklyn. You have to bring me here often!”

“Anytime,” he offers before finishing his tiramisu.

“How about...?” Daisy begins to say, casting a casual glance around the place before laying her eyes on Luigi as she rests her chin on her hand. “Tomorrow?”

Luigi almost chokes on his tiramisu. Daisy hurries to bring his drink closer to him, and even though there’s barely a sip left, it’s enough for Luigi to stabilize himself. Speechless, he stares at Daisy, astonishment dancing in his expression.

“T-tomorrow?” he repeats, still gasping for air.

“I mean, if you want to,” Daisy replies, though she keeps smiling.

“Yes!” Luigi almost shouts, unwittingly stretching out on the table. “Yes, I mean, yes! Of course I want to! B-but you…”

“Me what, honey?”

“You...” Luigi lowers his gaze, unsure, and begins to rub the tips of his index fingers together, wanting to look at her, but not daring to do it. “Y-you want to?”

“Of course!” she assures him. “I love what I’ve seen of Brooklyn so far. I want to see more... and I want,” she adds, gazing at him purposedly, “to see my handsome guide again.”

The air disappears from Luigi’s lungs. His heart is racing, galloping so hard against his chest that he thinks it’ll end up opening a hole in his skin and running away to Daisy’s arms. She, in the meantime, stares at him casually as she bites her lower lip.

“I know I’ve told you this before,” she says softly, “but I love it when you do that.”

“A-actually,” Luigi replies with a nervous chuckle, “y-you said I’m v-very... cute... w-when I do th-that...”

His voice trails off as he realizes what a stupid thing he’s doing. Why does he stop to point out something so silly when the important thing is the message Daisy is conveying? Why is he unable to come up with an answer according to what she has just told him?

“Both options are true,” she replies without raising her tone, shrugging her shoulders.

Still flushed and uneasy, Luigi gives a weak smile. He is thankful that Daisy hasn’t for an instant pointed out the ridiculousness of his remark. In fact, it doesn’t seem to bother her one bit that he’s been the awkward, embarrassed bundle of nerves he’s always been all dinner. Quite the contrary: judging by her words and the intensity with which she contemplates him, Daisy loves that Luigi is so... like this. So him.

And he loves that Daisy is so her.

He swallows slowly, determined to tell her so too. His eyes remain fixed on the wooden table. His fingers, again, fiddle with each other. His cheeks burn, as they’ve been doing for most of the night. His voice comes out hoarse at first, as if it wants to remain a prisoner inside his mouth, and Luigi is forced to clear his throat to force himself to speak.

“I-I t-too... like you. V-very much.”

He lets out a small sigh of relief, pleased with himself for finally daring to say it out loud. He even breaks into a small smile, the urge to laugh bubbling in his throat.

“Just... very much?”

Daisy’s voice sounds suggestive. Insinuating. Provocative, even. Luigi, very slowly, dares to raise his head. Daisy hasn’t wiped the playful, cheeky smile from her mouth, as mischievous as the wink she gives him when their eyes meet. Luigi purses his lips. Blushing as he is, he plucks up his courage and holds her gaze, even though inside he feels like he’s made of jelly. When he speaks, he gives his voice all the seriousness he can muster so that she understands that he’s not playing games or exaggerating.

“Very much so.”

He almost feels like applauding himself for being able to say it without stuttering. He smiles again, trying to appear confident, and he doesn’t take his eyes off Daisy’s. He wants her to read in them the sincerity with which he speaks, just like him, in her gestures, in her smile, in her beautiful gaze, has been able to see from the beginning that she was not joking when she expressed how much she liked the way he is.

Daisy’s smile widens slightly, in a barely appreciable way, as she hears the vehemence of his tone, but Luigi notices it. She then places her hands on the wood and leans on it to stand up.

“Luigi, you are adorable,” she states as she gets up, and the way she says it, her voice filled with fervor, her face as if she were simply talking about the weather, completely disarms Luigi. “I’d love to take a walk with you. Would you like that?”

“Oh!” Luigi’s throat has gone dry at the compliment, but he struggles to find his voice and stands up too. “S-sure! Th-there’s a park near here. W-we can... stroll there. I-if you want t-to.”

Daisy smiles and nods, smoothing her skirt with her palms, and touches her hair for a moment to make sure the flower is still firmly attached to it.

“That would be great.”

She places both hands on her purple garment and smiles at him, and Luigi grins too, staring at her. It takes him a few seconds to realize that Daisy is waiting for him to move first, as he is closer to the exit than she is. Feeling clumsier than he has ever felt before in his entire life, Luigi stumbles until he reaches the door and, again, opens it and steps to the side to give way to her.

As Daisy walks past him, she gives him a low chuckle that has no mockery in it, and Luigi, his face burning, imitates her, though his laughter sounds a little louder because of his nerves, which, though they had settled during dinner, have returned more impetuously. When she steps out into the street, Luigi closes his eyes for a moment and takes a slow breath, trying to calm himself, before following her.

The blush on his cheeks increases when his eyes meet Daisy’s, who gazes at him with a smile full of affection. After clearing his throat, Luigi puts one hand in his pocket as he raises the other.

“The park is that way.”

As he drops his arm, a slight electric shock elicits a soft cry of surprise. He staggers back in surprise and carefully examines his hand. Behind it, he notices Daisy’s confused gaze, watching him in astonishment, her own hand raised. They both drop them slowly, their breaths a bit shaky, their eyes caught in each other’s. Luigi does not understand what just happened. Bewilderment washes over him, and Daisy’s expression tells him that she, too, feels disoriented.

Until, suddenly, she smiles a somewhat... shy smile?

“Wow,” she says. “Looks like we have chemistry.”

“W-what?” Luigi raises an eyebrow in confusion.

Daisy covers her mouth with her hand to hide a giggle.

“We accidentally brushed against each other,” she explains. “And sparks flew.”

Luigi lets out a low “oh” and looks down at his hand again as his brain processes what has just happened. His cheeks start reddening again as a smile, much more self-conscious than Daisy’s, blooms on his lips. When he returns his attention to her and finds her as flushed as he is, Luigi feels again that tug of affinity inside him that pulls him towards her and makes him understand that, without a hint of doubt, they are somehow connected.

“I guess we’ll have to be careful,” says Daisy, “or we’ll short-circuit each other.”

Luigi laughs and nods, though the immensity of his feelings doesn’t diminish for an instant. Then Daisy extends her arm, smiling warmly at him, and Luigi stares for a second at those fingers waving in his direction in a silent invitation.

“Shall we try again?” Daisy suggests.

Luigi looks up at her again with a cheerful grin and, without hesitation, stretches out his own hand. At the first touch of his skin against Daisy’s, he does not feel a new electric shock, but a mixture of excitement and disbelief that only increases as his fingers slowly intertwine with the princess’, their palms touching, as if this is their place, as if this is where they belong, as if this is where they always should be.

United. Glued. Together. Being one.

That’s exactly how Luigi feels when, as he lifts his fascinated gaze from the union of their hands, his eyes meet Daisy’s. She smiles at him, a slight blush covering her tanned skin, but Luigi, to his surprise, doesn’t feel insecure or embarrassed for the first time all night.

For the first time, he knows that what he’s doing, holding Daisy’s hand and pressing it lightly, feeling his bond with her deepening, is okay. It’s more than right. It’s perfect. It’s the right thing to do. It’s what he wants to experience all the time, every day of his life, if she feels that way too.

And, judging by the speed with which Daisy is quick to return his squeeze, Luigi has no doubt that the young woman does, indeed, reciprocate his feelings.

With a soft chuckle, Daisy nods her head in the direction Luigi pointed when he left the pizzeria. Luigi responds with another giggle and, not letting her hand go, starts walking.

Chapter 2: The end of a wonderful night

Walking with Daisy hand in hand is a very different sensation from walking with her by his side. Now, even if Luigi still finds it hard to believe, he is touching Daisy’s warm skin, which turns out to be much softer and silkier than he had imagined. He is feeling her slender fingers wrap around his hand. He is feeling her palm press against his, seeking his touch the same way Luigi seeks hers.

He feels so exhilarated, so euphoric, so blissful, that, almost without realizing it, he begins to swing his arm, rocking Daisy’s as well. She laughs when she notices the movement, but she doesn’t try to stop him, quite the contrary: she starts swaying her arm with so much momentum that soon is she who leads the motion, which makes Luigi laugh out loud while, thrilled, he lets himself be carried away.

They soon leave the hustle and bustle of the city behind to dive right into the greenery of the leafy park where Luigi goes for a walk from time to time. Daisy smiles, delighted, as she notices the dense nature around them, and reaches out her hand to brush the trunk of one of the trees they pass. She can’t take her eyes off all the beautiful flowers that populate the area, her eyes wanting to capture it all, and Luigi gazes at her with a deep feeling of tenderness flooding his heart.

“I used to come to this park a lot when I was a child,” he tells her, his eyes also wandering around the place. “My Mom used to bring my brother and me here when we were just babies. We’d play together in the sand,” he adds, pointing to a section in the park where a children’s area is visible, “although at first Mario preferred our mom to swing him. It was too scary for me,” he confesses with a chuckle, “so I’d rather stay there building castles with my colored blocks.”

Even though he was very little, Luigi still remembers one of those occasions when, after he had finished building a big fortress with his blocks, a boy suddenly stormed in and stole the flag he was trying to crown it with. Luigi recalls the feeling of helplessness when the boy, with a brutal kick, smashed his castle, and the momentum caused him to fall backwards and crumple to the ground while the boy cruelly taunted him. 

Until, behind his aggressor, something red unexpectedly appeared, hit him on the head and snatched the flag from his hand. Luigi still remembers how surprised he was when he noticed Mario, who, standing protectively in front of him, held out the flag without turning to him, his defiant and furious expression fixed on the boy. The latter, after getting up, gave them an angry look before running away. Only then did Mario turn to Luigi with a reassuring smile from ear to ear, and Luigi, still somewhat stunned by what had just happened, tried to return the smile, though he could barely compose a weak grimace. 

From then on, however, Mario began to play more often with him in the sand. He still went on swinging, of course, and soon began to go down the slide without their mom’s supervision, but he never took his eyes off Luigi. Years later, moreover, that park was crucial in Mario’s recovery after his first love breakup, since Luigi, after several days of taking care of him and comforting him while his brother cried his heart out in his arms, managed to convince him to leave the house and go for a walk together. The fresh air of nature felt so good and cheered him up so much that, soon, it was Mario himself who began to look for Luigi to go for a stroll in the park.

A sigh escapes Luigi’s lips as he recalls those memories. This park is very important for him, so he’s glad to be showing it to Daisy. Since she wanted to see his favorite places in Brooklyn, this little garden hidden in the heart of his district could not be missed.

“What do you think?” he asks, turning to her, his hand firmly clasped in hers.

“I love it,” Daisy declares, looking everywhere to soak in the beauty of the park. “It’s a very beautiful place.”

She turns her face towards him as she takes a step to cover the short distance between them. The fingers on her other hand lightly brush Luigi’s arm, making him give a start. The touch is so faint and intense at the same time that he feels himself melting.

“Thank you for sharing it with me, Luigi.”

Her head rests gently on his shoulder as she releases a sigh, her hair, and the purple flower, tickling his ear. Luigi’s heart, at this point, has jumped into a runaway gallop that brings a smile to his lips, nervous and plethoric at the same time. His skin burns so much, it’s been burning so much all night, that he wouldn’t be surprised if the next day he finds burns all over his body, as if he had gone to the beach and forgotten to apply sunscreen.

By then, their footsteps have led them to the pond that rules the place. It’s a large lake inhabited by several families of ducks, where, during the day, passers-by can sail in small boats. Luigi promises himself to bring Daisy here again soon, so that they can ride together in one of the boats in the sunlight. He knows for sure that she’ll like the experience.

Right now, all they do is gaze at the calm waters under the bright light of the full moon, along with many other couples also strolling through the park. Luigi notices that there are some clouds scattered across the sky but hopes that they won’t rob the moon of its brightness and allow them to continue enjoying the peace and warmth of this summer night. 

“Luigi, look!”

Daisy’s alarmed voice, together with the light tapping she gives him on the arm, makes Luigi lower his eyes again. He gapes at a duck that is approaching them, swimming calmly across the pond, tracing a clear straight line that emerges from the small house in the center of the lake, where all the ducks live, and concludes, without any doubt, at the exact point where Luigi and Daisy are standing in this moment.

“How strange,” Luigi murmurs, puzzled. “I thought all the ducks would be sleeping at this hour.”

“Maybe it’s a vampire duck,” Daisy suggests.

Luigi gives a snort and looks sideways at her. 

“You think so?”

“Maybe it’s coming to drink your blood,” adds Daisy, running two fingers along his arm.

“Or yours,” Luigi counters, ignoring the shudder that runs through him at the young woman’s touch. 

She laughs, and the sound of her laughter makes Luigi’s heart beat faster, full of tenderness.

“I don’t think so. My blood is blue,” Daisy points out, gazing at him with a raised eyebrow. “I’m a princess, remember?”

“Then maybe it’s a bewitched prince who needs to be kissed by a beautiful princess.”

The words have come rushing out of his mouth, not even thinking them, his eyes fixed on Daisy’s. He scolds himself once again, convinced he’s gone red in the face again, but Daisy’s sly smile silences the apology that was about to burst from his lips.

“I can think of a much better candidate than a prince to kiss this princess.”

Again she runs her fingers along his arms as she speaks, so slowly that Luigi thinks he’ll pass out. Her eyes, two glittering sapphires, gaze at him with intensity, even brighter in the moonlight. Luigi is breathless, but the beauty of her look so mesmerizes him that he is unable to take his eyes off her. 

A sudden squawk startles him so much that it makes him stagger and fall backwards, a shriek of surprise escaping his throat. Luigi closes his eyes just as his lower back hits the grass and he lets out a soft moan of pain, but Daisy’s screams immediately catch his attention.

Opening his eyes, Luigi gasps when he sees that the princess has placed herself in front of him in a protective attitude to defend him from the duck, the cause of his fall.

“Get away from here!” she shouts at it angrily, trying to shoo it away.

The animal flaps its wings, still quacking, but Daisy’s impetus, her eagerness to keep it away from Luigi, ends up causing the duck, although reluctant, to begin to waddle in the direction of the pond, to which it finally returns. Only then, Daisy lowers her arms, her breathing accelerated, and turns to Luigi with concern painted on her face. 

“Oh, my, Luigi, are you all right?” she asks, holding out both arms to him.

And Luigi, who had been staring at her, completely fascinated, blinks suddenly, trying to get out of the state of confusion in which he’s immersed, and shakes his head.

“Y-yes,” he murmurs, laughing nervously, as he raises a hand.

Daisy clutches it at once, her fingers closing tightly around his palm and wrist, and Luigi feels that warm, pleasant shock again as soon as his skin comes into contact with the princess’. Daisy pulls him to help him up, and he embarrassedly massages his back with his free hand. His other hand is closed tightly around Daisy’s, and he has no intention of opening it. 

“Sorry,” he apologizes, embarrassed. “It caught me off guard.”

Daisy, not letting go either, lets out a faint giggle.

“Don’t apologize.” She removes her hand from his wrist, only to place it under his chin and sweetly turn his face towards her. “It wasn’t your fault, but the vampire duck’s.” 

They both laugh, sharing a knowing glance, and Luigi can’t help but stare at her, spellbound, still unable to take in the fact that this brave princess has just saved him. Even if it was from something as random as the attack of a duck from the pond.

“Thank you, Daisy,” he says wholeheartedly, his eyes shining with emotion. 

Daisy’s face lights up with a smile that, once more, brings out the dimples in her freckled cheeks. 

“You’re welcome, Luigi.” Her eyes stare at him again. “You’re... so charming.”

Luigi’s legs tremble, and not because of the fall. He feels that his smile is like jelly, flimsy and unstable. A scream rises in his chest and spreads throughout his body but does not reach his throat. His cheeks, of course, burn, even more intensely. And his heartbeat is so loud, so booming, that he’s convinced Daisy can hear it clearly.

She keeps looking at him, her expression full of warmth. Is it Luigi’s impression, or is her face now a little closer to his? His eyes, as if deciding for themselves, drift to those beautiful lips, so full and suggestive, that he so badly wants to kiss. Is it possible that Daisy... also wants to... kiss him? Him?

Suddenly, a soft melody reaches his ears. With his eyes still locked on Daisy’s, Luigi doesn’t lose any detail of her reaction: a new sparkle, naughty this time, shines in her eyes, while her smile turns mischievous. With a giggle, the princess puts a finger to his chest and pushes him gently, making him back away, at the same time that she herself takes a step backwards. Luigi laughs, stunned, though his mirth dies when Daisy’s hand slowly slides across his palm until the touch is broken, leaving him with a sensation of emptiness that makes his chest feel hollow.

“Wow,” Daisy exclaims playfully, as she places both hands behind her back. “This music is perfect for a dance, don’t you think?”

Luigi laughs again, but, somewhat confused, he takes his eyes off Daisy for a moment to search for the source of the melody. He then notices a figure, under a tree near the pond, sweetly sliding a bow over the strings of a violin, inviting the many other couples strolling around to dance to the beautiful song and take in the intimate and romantic atmosphere.

A throat clearing from Daisy impels Luigi to rest his gaze on her again. The princess does not look directly at him, but her eyes are raised to the sky.

“I wonder,” she says, pretending to be oblivious to his presence, “if there’s a handsome gentleman around here who would like to ask this lady to dance.”

Luigi gasps as he realizes Daisy’s intentions. His heart pumps wildly at the fleeting wink she gives him. Dancing? Together? Like in those romance stories set in bygone eras? His throat goes dry. Of course he loves to dance, and of course he’d love to dance with Daisy, but pretending to be a gentleman asking a lady for a dance? And a princess, no less. He’s just a simple Brooklyn plumber – how can he possibly live up to her expectations?

But it’s Daisy. The girl who has driven him crazy practically since the first time he saw her. The warrior, feisty princess who won his heart with her impulsiveness and her spontaneity. The bold, sassy woman he has fallen for head over heels. And, besides, she looks so beautiful, with her pretty orange blouse, her cheerful full skirt, the purple flower pinned to her lovely auburn mane, shimmering under the moonlight...

He wants to do it. He wants to dance with her. He wants to feel her close, he wants to feel her hand in his again, fitting together like two pieces of a perfect puzzle. He wants to please her, to whirl with her until dawn if necessary, to be carried away together by the sweet melody that flows from the violin and floods his ears.

So, without a second thought, Luigi plucks up his courage, shortens the distance between them in two strides and, with a slight bow, extends his hand to her.

“Would you do me the honor of granting me this dance, beautiful lady?”

Daisy’s smile widens at his gesture, her dimples appearing once again on her cheeks. She brings one hand to her chest in feigned surprise and slowly reaches out the other to place it softly on Luigi’s palm.

“With pleasure, handsome gentleman.”

Luigi’s fingers unconsciously close around her delicate hand. When he straightens, however, Daisy lets go, but does not pull away from him. With her eyes fixed on Luigi’s, the young woman places one hand on her partner’s shoulder and reaches for his fingers with the other, so that, at last, their hands are joined again, palm against palm, the fingers of one of the back of the other’s hand. Instinctively, Luigi raises his other hand to, with some uncertainty, rest it on Daisy’s waist, whose smile widens, and she gives him a slight nod of approval. Luigi sighs in relief, his grin a little more confident, and then, to the rhythm of the music, they both begin to move.

At first, of course, Luigi’s feet stumble, his legs shaking like a leaf. Daisy laughs faintly at his embarrassed expression, but she gently squeezes his hand and, whispering, begins to set the beat to help him. 

“One, two, three... Now!”

And Luigi obeys, and strives to follow the pace she sets, and manages to complete the steps so precisely that he surprises himself. He watches Daisy with enthusiasm shining in his eyes, and she, smiling tenderly at him, falls silent, because she understands that he no longer needs her to guide him.

And suddenly, they’re dancing.

Luigi can’t believe it. The delicate cadence of the melody propels his feet, which move in near-perfect synchrony with Daisy’s. They whirl around the park together, close to each other, Daisy’s purple skirt tangling around her legs. She, with her eyes closed and a serene smile on her lips, rocks in Luigi’s arms, feeling the music, living it, and he soon catches the passion with which the young woman dances. The song floods his mind, reaches his heart and urges him to dance with his soul, devoting himself entirely to the beauty of the music.

Without letting go of Daisy, Luigi reaches out his arm to spin her around, and watches her beautiful hair float behind her, making her look even more attractive in his eyes, if that’s even possible. The purple daisy, still clinging to her mane, slips a little to rest on Daisy’s ear, and, at the conclusion of the spin, she falls into Luigi’s arms with a soft exhalation of awe. Luigi holds her, one arm behind her back, his hand gripping Daisy’s firmly, and breathless, she gives him a rapt smile, her free arm coming up to encircle his neck. Luigi, to his surprise, finds himself smiling gallantly at her, completely immersed in the music and the intimate atmosphere of the place. He helps her straighten up and resettles his hand on her waist, as Daisy’s hand slides back to its place on his shoulder. As they continue to dance, however, her fingers lift slightly to graze his ear, sending a tingle of pleasure to every nerve ending in Luigi’s body.

By the time the harmonious melody concludes, they’re both breathing heavily, their hearts beating fast to the rhythm of the other’s. They glance, smiling, their hands still intertwined, Luigi’s palm still on Daisy’s waist, Daisy’s fingers still resting on Luigi’s shoulder. Their bodies are very close, their chests almost pressed together due to the posture. Luigi, for the umpteenth time that night, finds his eyes entwined with Daisy’s, caught by that depth that so reminds him of the ocean. She too seems unable to stop gazing at him, a pretty smile gracing those beautiful lips that Luigi is so eager to taste. His heart gets a little faster if possible at the thought, but the princess drives him so crazy that he can only think of having her closer, a little closer, just a little bit closer. He feels totally imprisoned by her spell, hopelessly wrapped around her finger, and he’s enjoying every second of it.

His breath intermingles with Daisy’s. Hers is a bit shaken, while he feels like a bundle of nerves. Still, Luigi’s instinct is screaming at him to keep his head down a little, and who is he to resist.

“Luigi,” he hears her say then, her voice barely a choked whisper, “if you want to stop... you’d better do it now.”

Despite her words, Daisy doesn’t sound too convinced. Luigi can’t stop the corners of his lips from lifting slightly, his heart full of tenderness, and his voice comes out hoarse and low as he manages to answer her.

“I don’t want to stop.”

Fleetingly, Daisy returns his smile. She continues to move closer, raising her head a little higher, and Luigi continues to tilt his, both anxious and excited with anticipation.

Until, at last, their lips meet.

And Luigi feels like he could die in that instant.

Daisy’s lips are sweet, soft, far more delicious than Luigi could have imagined, and he melts inside with delight. He thinks he might burst into tears from the joy of finally seeing his greatest wish fulfilled. Is Daisy, the princess he’s madly in love with, really kissing him? Is this not a dream? But no, the touch of her velvety lips against his is so real that he’s about to lose his mind.

He wants to give himself completely to this madness and never let go. 

They linger for a second with their mouths pressed together, enjoying each other’s touch, until Daisy begins to move her lips. At first she does it slowly, tempting him, tasting him, and Luigi, delighted, lets himself be guided by her lead and enjoys the movement.

Then Daisy opens her mouth, inviting Luigi to explore her, and lets go of his hand to wrap both arms around his neck. Luigi barely notices, so lost as he is in the kiss, so fascinated by the flavor of the young woman that he can’t even realize that now both his hands are squeezing her waist, instinctively pulling her closer to him. 

They both raise their tongues at the same time, so they meet somewhere in the middle of the union of their mouths. Luigi moves his away for a moment and allows Daisy to be the first to explore his mouth, and he feels his legs tremble at the gentleness and tenderness with which she does so. Next it is Daisy who pulls her tongue away and, again, opens her lips, and this time Luigi accepts the invitation and marvels again at the intoxicating taste of the pretty princess.

They continue to kiss and savor each other, not wanting to stop, not wanting to move away from the other, not wanting this sensual and exciting experience to end. They press more and more against each other, the kiss is more and more ardent and passionate, Luigi feels more and more flushed and heated, but he doesn’t want to stop for anything in the world. He feels that he could spend all his remaining life kissing Daisy, lost in her lips and in her flavor and feeling how she entangles her fingers around his neck in an attempt to bring him even closer to her.

Suddenly, Luigi begins to feel a slight discomfort on his arms, something cold and wet that makes his skin prickle, but he ignores it, for Daisy’s lips are more important. However, the discomfort increases, now falling on his hair as well and slipping through Daisy’s fingers. She lets out a little cry of surprise against his lips and Luigi can’t help but smile, but doesn’t release Daisy’s mouth, eager to prolong the kiss for all eternity. 

Nevertheless, even though she doesn’t seem to want to break away either, she begins to say his name giggling as she places her hands on his chest to try to push him away a little, gently but firmly. Luigi, thinking it’s just a game, laughs and pulls her a little closer, ignoring the cold he feels in his arms and head. Daisy presses her lips on his for a moment more and, to Luigi’s disgrace, she moves away and says his name again, still chuckling, raising her tone a little. He finally opens his eyes but doesn’t erase the infatuated smile from his face nor take his arms away from her waist.

“It’s raining,” she points out with a giggle. 

“How nice,” he mumbles, enraptured, and seeks her lips again. 

Daisy is about to burst into laughter, but it’s drowned out by the intensity of his kiss. However, after a few seconds of kissing him back, she pulls away again and places her hands on his cheeks.

“Luigi,” she insists, amused. “It’s raining!”

Oly then does he manage to process her words.

“It’s raining?” he repeats as he instinctively raises an arm to place it over both of their heads.

When he glances up, he realizes in frustration that the clouds he saw when they arrived at the pond have ended up hiding the moon and have broken the magical moment he was sharing with Daisy. He purses his lips in annoyance. They’ll get soaked, and the flower he gave the princess will be ruined. 

She, however, covers her mouth to hide a giggle, amused at his reaction. Luigi, without a second thought, grabs her hand and runs away. She laughs heartily, letting him lead her, and Luigi guides her through the flora of the park and back to the city. He runs, pulling Daisy and catching her loud laughter, unable to help it, and takes her to the only place he can think of: his parents’ house. They enter and stand in the doorway, close to the ascending stairs, sheltered from the sudden storm that has burst over their heads. Breathing heavily, they look at each other, wide smiles on their faces, their hands still clasped together.

Luigi, lost in Daisy’s beautiful eyes, raises his free hand to check the condition of the flower, which, to his surprise, is holding firm, resistant to the rain. On impulse, Luigi begins to stroke the princess’ freckled cheek, and she widens her smile and tilts her head a little to enjoy the caress. Luigi’s heart fills with tenderness, and he, captivated, wishes to be lucky enough to see this girl every day.

He wishes to be lucky enough to kiss this girl every day.

“I had a very great time,” Daisy says softly.

“Even with the storm?” Luigi asks, giggling to hide his blush.

“Even with the storm,” she nods.

They laugh again, feeling deeply connected once more, and Daisy’s hand rises to rest on Luigi’s, who hasn’t stopped brushing her cheek with infinite fondness.

“Although...” Daisy stands on tiptoe so she can whisper in his ear. “What we were doing just before it started raining was my favorite part.”

Luigi is sure his whole face is now redder than Mario’s hat. He swallows, as his throat has gone dry, and notices his heart hammering in his ears. When Daisy looks at him, he smiles and nods in an awkward attempt to tell her that this was his favorite part too.

“We’ll have to do it again,” Daisy adds suggestively.

Seizing the fact that she was still on tiptoe and that their faces are close together, she rubs her lips against Luigi’s, just for an instant, just a quick caress of her mouth on his. For Luigi, though, it’s more than enough: he grabs her waist again and opens his mouth to deepen the kiss. Daisy gives a soft giggle, but immediately reciprocates his gesture and cups his face gently.

This time they’re interrupted by the sound of footsteps running down the stairs. Startled, they separate, although their hands remain in the same places, and they look up just in time to see Mario arriving, at full speed, at the hallway of the building.

“Wow,” he exclaims with a chuckle. “Sorry to interrupt.”

Luigi gives him an embarrassed smile and hopes that Daisy’s hands, still resting on his cheeks, hide his blush. She, without a trace of shyness, widens her smile and leans a little towards him, so that her hair grazes Luigi’s chin. His legs automatically turn into butter again. 

“I see the date went well,” Mario observes, smiling mischievously at them.

“Better than that,” replies Daisy, and her fingers begin to affectionately squeeze Luigi’s cheeks, making him feel the urge to laugh and hide underground, all at the same time. “Your brother and I are boyfriend and girlfriend.”

Her words fill Luigi’s heart with so much joy that, not caring that his brother is present, he gives Daisy a fully beaming glance. 

“Does that mean I can treat you like a sister now?” Mario asks amusedly.

“Weren’t you already doing that?” replies Daisy, following his joke.

“Maybe, but I guess it makes more sense now.”

Daisy responds with a laugh, her hands coming down to Luigi’s shoulders. He manages to emit a nervous chuckle, and his eyes suddenly meet Mario’s, who, slowly, has continued to approach the door. At that instant, however, Mario stops, his gaze filled with understanding and affection, and Luigi’s heart swells in his chest, his smile a little hesitant at his brother’s sincere joy for him. Luigi nods slightly, hoping Mario catches the appreciation in his gesture and in his eyes, for, after all, his brother has helped him from the beginning in everything concerning his feelings for Daisy. 

Luigi would not be experiencing his exciting first date with Daisy were it not for his beloved big brother’s invaluable help.

Then Mario, not taking his eyes off Luigi’s, approaches him in two strides and gently pats his shoulder.

“See you later at home, Lu,” he says, a warm smile tattooed on his lips.

Luigi nods, feeling a little reassured by his brother’s familiar touch, and takes one hand off Daisy’s waist to place it on Mario’s shoulder.

And, for an instant, Luigi holds in his two hands the two most important people in his life and for who he would gladly give his last breath.

Not even realizing it, he tightens his grip around Daisy’s waist as he gives a light squeeze on Mario’s shoulder. His brother, after a final pat, slowly pulls away from him and turns towards the door.

Then Luigi realizes something.

“Mario,” he calls out to him, worried. “It’s raining. Didn’t you take your umbrella?”

“Oh, don’t worry, Lu,” Mario replies, waving his hand to play it down. “The pipe is quite close. I won’t have time to get wet.”

Luigi smiles and shakes his head slightly, resigned. 

“You’ll catch a cold,” he scolds him affectionately.

“And then I’ll have two Moms instead of one, I know,” Mario says in the same tone, making both Luigi and Daisy giggle. “See you, lovebirds!”

And before Luigi or Daisy have time to answer him, he’s gone. 

Luigi sighs, the resigned smile still on his lips. His brother will never change, and he adores him for that very reason.

Then he turns to Daisy, who also turns her face towards him at that instant, and they smile at each other, knowingly, their cheeks reddened. There’s something Luigi wants to ask her, but he doesn’t know how to broach the subject. Daisy, however, is faster in taking the initiative.

“Where were we?” she murmurs, running two fingers provocatively across his chest.

But Luigi, despite the embarrassment, despite the shudder of pleasure that runs up and down him, still needs to get something off his head, to ask her something about what she just declared in front of Mario.

“D-Daisy,” he mumbles, and rubs the back of his neck for the millionth time that night. “Th-that thing about... us being... y-you know... b-boyfriend and girlfriend... W-were you s-serious?”

“Absolutely,” she says without hesitation. “Unless you don’t want to, of course.”

“Yes!” Luigi shouts, almost at a faster speed than when they were at the pizzeria. “Y-yes, Daisy, I-I mean, o-of course I do, I...” He stops for a moment and takes a deep breath, trying to order the words he wants to pronounce. “Of course I want to go out with you, Daisy. I-I r-really l-like... you.”

She laughs softly, a bit blushed, and bites her lower lip, still running her fingers down his chest and sending shivers down his spine.

“I really like you too, Luigi,” she confesses, her voice a faint whisper. “You’re... so sweet. In every way.”

She places a tender kiss on Luigi’s lips, which makes his heart skip a beat. But before he can reciprocate, she pulls away for a moment and looks at him with sparkling eyes.

“See you tomorrow, my sweet Green Bean?”

Luigi jumps at the affectionate appellation and flushes again, but finds that he likes, no, he loves it that Daisy addresses him that way. A smile blossoms on his face and his grip around her waist tightens.

“I’m looking forward to it, my Desert Princess.”

She grins and, to Luigi’s surprise, reddens too. Captivated, he caresses her cheek as she watches him intently. Then he slides his hand into her beautiful, velvety auburn hair, taking care not to drop the purple daisy, and she cups his face again. And, lost in each other’s eyes, they lean in until their lips meet once more.

But this kiss, even if it is also intense and sweet and deep and passionate and intoxicating, tastes like a farewell.

“I’m already counting the hours until we meet again,” Luigi murmurs, pulling away for a second, only to kiss her again as soon as he finishes speaking, with greater intensity and passion.

“I was about to tell you the same thing,” she replies, resuming the kiss a second later.

And they kiss, and kiss, and kiss, and his hands stroke her waist and her mane, and hers get lost in his tousled hair and encircle his neck, and their tongues dance a dance that both would like to last forever.

And in that moment, not being aware of it, they both inwardly promise themselves the same thing.

That, someday, it will be.

[cokoweee]

COKO.

As SOON as I saw so many people freaking out about your newest update I KNEW this was going to be a GOOD one~

Broooo I was NOT WRONG.

Let’s begin. :)

The biggest question tumbling around in my mind like a drunk hummingbird is… Why Raph? Why is Kendra having a dream positioned in Raph’s room? The first thing that comes to mind is the fact that Raph’s spirit is the only one Kendra has seen so far- not only seen, but SPOKEN to. And ever since their chat at that lake, Kendra has had a stronger connection to Donnie. (I don’t just mean feelings or emotions). After her and Raph’s talk, Donnie has his freak out moment in the barn. MILES away. And yet, Kendra could sense that something was WRONG.

As someone with three older siblings I can tell you right now that they have an INSTINCT to sense danger/discomfort to their younger sibs. Raph was no different. And I wonder… after their little chat… If he passed some of that to Kendra. Just the sense, the instinct that connects her further to the Hamatos and to Donnie.

Raph wasn’t just some spirit to her- He was slowly becoming like family- her own older brother. Which I think is why when she sees his sais on the ground, that she reaches out to them. Almost as if they radiate with familial warmth and safety. Something… Kendra probably hasn’t felt all that much. So she reaches out.

And then THIS HAPPENS-

Something within her, (whether that be physically, mentally, or spiritually), FORCES her away from Raph’s sais. Pulls her away. Distracts her. It looks as if the inside of her skin is boiling and itching- forcing her to react by trying to claw it out.

And WHAT color is this sensation? This poison coursing through her veins? PINK. The same hue of the sickeningly, vibrant drink that she had five too many of at the party.

(I FRIGGIN KNEW THAT JUICE WAS BAD NEWS FJWIHCIWICJS)

As Kendra begins to panic in the dream, her breaths becoming shorter and more choked, two hands slither out of the darkness and cling to her wrists. As she looks up, trying to decipher who it is that’s attacking her, we get this nightmare fuel. 0-0

Do yall remember what Kendra said at the party to Donnie? “That woman is an eldritch horror. She could peel me open like a grape.” Or something to that effect.. THIS image- the seven eyes compared to the one- looks to me like Big Mama right in the middle of transforming into her true spider form.

Poor Kendra ain’t never gonna sleep again. 0.0

Then just as the nightmare begins to climax into a full on horror show- She is awoken by Donnie calling out her name and holding her.

And once again, Donnie used her FULL name. Not a nickname- He’s SERIOUS right now. He’s WORRIED. He wants her to be okay. And however tiny it is- Kendra shakily replies with “Tello?” Not a full name, but certainly not a hurtful nickname like she’s quite used to calling him.

Here is one of my FAVORITE details of this update: How the colors return and fade with specific words. Here we see Donnie saying he was just going to wake her up- but then the word “gentler” becomes his inner purple. His soul’s hue. The color of his ninpo and his heart. 💜 If this were Donnie from weeks ago, he would’ve stopped at “I was going to just wake you up.” But things have changed since then, hmm? ;)

(Also HUUUUUBOI KENDRA MUST LOOK RED AS A TOMATO WITH DONNIE HOVERING OVER HER LIKE THAT HHOOOWEEEE)

Here again we see the effects of color in the dialogue being used. At first, Kendra is speaking as herself, openly, admitting to Donnie that she had a nightmare.

And then as soon as Donnie begins to say her full name again, with worry and tenderness swelling within the violet hue, Kendra’s words become colorless again. Empty. Devoid of emotion. (Or at least fighting to be.)

Then there’s THIS LIL NUMBER- And now I need to go and review all the past panels to see how long that scar has been there- heheh I shall return in a month’s time.

Kendra begins to get up, (much to the chagrin of worrying Donnie), and she says this. “I’d like to have some dignity left and not have you watch me struggle.”

SWEETY. Kendra. Darling. BOTH you and Donnie have had front row seats to each other’s struggles; dignity isn’t part of the equation anymore when it comes to loving others and being there for them. 💜 🩷

AGAIN- Donnie says her full name. And this is after he has fought within his ever-computing brain and the sounds of his brothers’ spirits shouting at him to “ASK HER!!” Finally he succumbs, but man alive is he scared to hear her answer. As he mentally and emotionally grounded himself for the worst, he covers his face with his hand. (Something to somewhat protect him from what he thinks is coming and the shame that will flood down with it.)

He asks the big question all of us are PLEADING to hear the answer to.

Now Donnie is completely slumped over, his hair a mess, and his tail protectively wrapped around his thigh. He’s absolutely terrified.

And here we see the colors shift in his dialogue again. Purple is BARELY present- FIGHTING to be seen compared to the all-consuming grey bleeding in.

Donnie’s trying to be the way he was before so he won’t get hurt: apathetic. Unaffected. Unfeeling. This was always how he reacted to emotional pain and things of the unknown. And right now, he’s so unsure of himself that he is thrusting himself back seven steps in his healing to somewhere where he thinks is more comfortable; Somewhere where he thinks he has control.

And what does Kendra say? What is her response?

She remembers- THANK THE MERCIFUL HEAVENS SHE REMEMBERS!!! But she, like Donatello, is resorting to the easier, less complicated, less painful option: apathy. Denial. Fantasy.

And poor Donnie’s face here… Even while fighting his emotions he’s still losing to them. Horror mixed with unrelenting sadness is consuming him.

Because he was right. Why… would she ever love him?

COKO YOU INCREDIBLE NUTJOB. This was- THIS WAS- Just-

👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏👏

Incredible. Absolutely incredible. You did amazing. Holy crap. Make sure to drink water and go say hi to the sun sometimesssss~ Thank you for your story. I hope you had fun making it and driving all your fans batty with everything you hide in it. 🤣

Have a glorious day. :)

~ Melissa

I and WELDING MY BRAIN SHUT on that first half. I gotta. I can’t slap to much down or else I lose my brain hype to do the next update😤😤😤 I just wanna ✍️✍️✍️✍️

AUUGG MAN U REALLY WENT AT THIS UPDATE.third time someone’s brought up the scar and imma just sayyyyy…it’s been there for awhile. Tho it may have changed a bit.

Back to square one with these two. Or maybe not? Lot of squares left to be colored in yknow? AUGGHG I NEED TO

I NEED TO DRAW BUT JUST WRATATSTARRARARARARARR

[strangerthingsfanworkrecs]

Would love to nominate an artist: hearsegrrl Rachel is one of the friendliest artists I know. She is so supportive of other artists and writers, and although she's extremely busy irl, she still makes time for fandom and always drops the most iconic works. She's incredibly humble, and deserves all the love and recognition in the world.

This week, we're highlighting @hearsegrrl as an artist! All recs this week will be her art.

see the original here She answered some questions about her work under the cut

Why Stranger Things?

Honestly I had never seen it before season 4, but when it dropped I started getting a bunch of Eddie edits on my TikTok and was like “WOAH, I gotta know more about that guy right now.” I binged the whole season over a couple days, fell in love with his character, remade a Tumblr account for the first time since my early teens, and started drawing him pretty much immediately.

What's your favorite ship (platonic or romantic) to create for?

I love how much people love Steddie. I love a two himbos in love dynamic and I love their interactions in the show, even if they were brief they obviously stuck with people.

What's your typical drawing process like?

Oh jeez. Long. Once I have an idea I’m pretty eager to start on it asap, I collect a lot of references for what I’m thinking googling model poses, random band member candids, or taking weird self timer pics of myself posing in my kitchen and then cut and paste and collage them into something close enough to what I want and then kind of draw a “skeleton” over all of that just to save a couple hours, but that process still usually takes me about 2-3 hours to get it perfect. The piece I’m working on right now has a lot of little pieces in it and that part of the process took ten hours alone. Then I have a line drawing that I block base colors into, lock all of those, and then kind of fully render out each part at a time- skin, hair, shirt, pants, accessories, whatever else. I spend a good 75% of that process going “AHHHHH I DON’T KNOW IF THIS IS WORKING,” and then somehow it all comes together in the end. Sometimes depending on the piece, I’ve liked finding random stock images to kind of overlay in the background, it makes him feel so much more real and lifelike to me. Lately, the fully rendered stuff I’ve been posting takes anywhere from 12-20 hours of drawing. I tattoo full time 11-7 or later 5 days a week on top of drawing for appointments outside of work and usually only have time to draw for a couple hours at a time, or a little on the weekends so I try to be as efficient as possible.

Do you have a favorite tool for drawing?

I used to do a lot of painting for work and pastel pencil drawings for fun but I switched over to an iPad Pro a few years ago and it’s so much easier to be able to just draw on the couch and not drag out a bunch of materials and make a mess. I use Procreate for work and for fandom art.

Do you have any tips for drawing clothes?

Using references or making your own references to take pictures of! They’re a relief to get to because they don’t need to be perfect, unlike a face that is very anxiety inducing so don’t overthink it.

What has been your favorite project so far?

I really, really love the one I’m working on right now, I don’t know if I’ll post it (and if you’re reading this after Valentine’s Day you may have already seen it) because it’s a gift but it’s been the most fun and silly and therapeutic. But I love any “Eddie with an occupation” or AU moment, doing the baseball AU drawings for @brock-eddie was so much fun and I love how they turned out.

What has been your hardest project so far?

The Christmas Steddie one was kind of a pain in the ass because it took so long and had so many more little parts than just drawing one character, but I was happy with how it turned out. There’s a couple WIPs in my iPad that I would love to finish but they just weren’t turning out how I wanted them, I want to revisit them but I might have to scrap them and start over. Everyone is so nice I’m sure I could post them now and people would be stoked but things have to be perfect or I lay in bed at night and regret posting them for literally weeks.

Have you ever had a creative block?

Not really for coming up with ideas, but finding the energy to sit down and draw after working all day is hard sometimes. I have a weird thing where I don't want to draw for a little bit, I have to be in the headspace to work for at least 2-3 hours at a time or I just won't do it.

Is there a big source of inspiration for you? Books? Art? Games?

UGH, BEIN IN LOVE. Being a weird alt girl in Indiana. Eddie is so my type and for the first time I had a huge crush on a character that I felt like I could be his type too. I’m a tattooer going to metal shows in my free time in 🤠Waynedale, Indiana🤠, it is so easy to picture him living in my town and going the same places I do and through art I can make him real. There are so many talented writers on here who have brought him to life and I love and am inspired to draw by the fics that really flesh out the fact that he’s so earnest and has all these deeper feelings but he’s still a ding dong twentyish year old boy doing ding dong twentyish year old boy things. @jo-harrington's store manager verse, @wheels-of-despair's Evil Woman fics, and @courtingchaos's writings all fill me with DEEP, ACHING YEARNING for a boy like him, and no matter how sucky and unimpressive dudes in real life are, they make him so nice and funny, and I can dress him up however I want and draw him from the viewer’s perspective and there is something so therapeutic and comforting about that. I’ve been through a lot of dumb and mildly traumatizing stuff the last couple of years and reading fanfic again and drawing fanart has brought me so much peace and happiness in all of it.

What's your favorite way to get comments or interactions on your art?

I’m always really excited to finish a piece and get to post it here ASAP just to see everyone’s reactions. I’m so proud of the work that gets put into them but I’m never going to post them on a more public forum like my Instagram, I do them for myself and for the little group of people here I know it’ll bring joy to and it’s really fun to share that joy with everyone. When I’m sad, I go through the tags in the reblogs because people are so funny and sweet about them.

Is there an upcoming project you're particularly excited about?

Nothing specific right now, I’m about to get really busy with real work so I may have to slow down a little. I get a lot of ideas around the holidays/seasons changing because I love the more themed drawings, so after Valentine’s Day hopefully I’ll have some cute spring ideas to work on! I always like getting requests to see what people are wanting to see. I can’t always get to them because of work but sometimes they spark ideas for bigger projects.

Is there anything we forgot to ask?

I don’t think so! Love you all so much, for real. Time to write and draw more Eddie stomping out fascist weirdos. The world really sucks right now but everyone contributing to this fandom is creating a positive space and helping us get away from it all, I am so grateful for all of the talented people here for making life more bearable right now.

[yubellia]

Tales of a traveling Creator…. „Am I an author now?…“

Imagine that we, the creator, finally made it back home. Back home to Teyvat that is. „Because this is where you belong, your grace!~“…. Yeah… great.

Actually, life is pretty sweet. Sure, there are certain things we don‘t have in Teyvat but… we can look past that. Mostly.

The characters don‘t know that for us, all of this was a game. Literally a video game. And there were many others too.

Now imagine how it must feel to never see your favorite show or cartoon again. How it feels to never play your favorite games again. (Especially if you know that a series would get a new game or season soon…. Gosh the horror!)

One day, you notice how your memories of these things start to fade. You forget the name of a character. Small things. But it’s scary enough to make you do something. You do the next best thing.

„Somebody bring me empty notebooks and writing tools! Hurry!“ Your always loyal followers almost run over each other to get what you requested.

And so starts the time period of none stop writing. Really. You carry notebooks everywhere. You start to write down the plot of your favorite games, shows, movies. You name it.

Until one day, because it had to happen, someone asked you where this enthusiasm came from. You and some of the other archons were having tea and snacks in inazuma. Ei insisted that you had to come for a visit again. Zhongli, your loyal shield („shield for what?“ „better be safe than sorry.“), Nahida was there too. Naturally considering that she is pretty much your daughter. Ei brought Miko with her and that’s when it happened.

„Your grace? I heard you always carry these notebooks around these days. Would you be willing to share your thoughts with us? Hm?~“

Zhongli gave Miko a slightly stern look but you shook it off. „sure. Why not. You see, i noticed that i started to forget certain things. Books I read in the other world.“ (you had to think on how to put this.) „stage plays I saw, songs and the adventures I had in…. Other worlds.“ „you visited other worlds too? Like the traveler?“ „yes. I did. Just like with the traveler or you guys, I used…. ‚Vessels‘ and guided them through their adventures. And i started writing things down so that I won‘t forget.“ You showed them a picture. „I even used my powers to create images of the characters.“

Miko‘s ears started to twitch. „Oh my…. Would you mind if… I took a look at that?“

„Sure…. But wait. Not this one. Here. This story is finished.“

You take another notebook from your pocket and hand it over. Miko promises to take very good care of it and the others look on in jealousy.

That was a few weeks ago. You continued. You did everything you could. Even create pages with character sheets and detailed descriptions.

One day, there is a long line in front of a book store. You could hear the owner talk about the newest story.

„Witness the the tale of a chosen hero in a distant world! A fight between good and evil. An innocent child chosen by destiny and the gods! One of their graces many vessels in another realm. This is The legend of Zelda. Ocarina of Time.“

For a moment, you just stood there with your mouth slightly open… „Miko…. Why? Zhongli can you believe it?….. Zhongli?“

You didn’t get an answer because instead of next to you, Zhongli was waiting in line for a copy of the book…..

„Oh hello your grace! The people of Inazuma and Teyvat as a whole love the adventure of the young hero and the princess…. When I read it, I just new it would be a hit.“

You didn’t have it in you to be surprised when Miko showed up. Oh and Zhongli returned with a copy of the book soon after that.

„So… I am an author now?“

„Well, it would be a shame to keep you loyal readers hanging no? Also, I heard some people discuss the criteria for becoming someone worthy of your guidance.“

„Well fortunately Link and Zelda have enough adventures. And i visited enough worlds…..“

Once Zhongli is next to you again, you grab his sleeve and pull him away before others see you.

(Heaven forbid I tell them about Kingdom hearts. The legend of Zelda has enough lore to keep them busy.)

[esthelle-wanders]

Warriors and Artemis: What The Heck Is Going On With Them (a self-appointed analysis)

SO I don’t tend to get too involved with shipping— but during my time in the Linked Universe fandom, I’ve noticed something consistent: while everyone has their own set of headcanons for favorite couples, Hyrule Warriors Zelink is the princess-hero duo with the widest variety of interpretations.

Aside from other factors— like Warriors fans living for angst— I think this stems from the reality that, in the context of Linked Universe specifically, the dynamic between Wars and Artemis is among the Link-Zelda relationships we know the least about.

Hence, in light of the recent holiday, I wanted to take a moment and collect all the clues we’ve gathered for this relationship over time. And, maybe, spark some conversation! (Buckle up and maybe make some hot chocolate, there’s surprisingly a lot to talk about)

[All image credits go to Jojo, with thanks!]

Part 1: Jojo’s Hints

When considering any Link-Zelda dynamic in Linked Universe, the easiest place to begin is Jojo’s response to the “love interest” question…aka, Default Zelink.

Obviously, this response doesn’t define the limits of fandom creativity, or invalidate the thousands of excellent stories we can tell with our own interpretations. It is, however, incredibly helpful as a starting point when we’re trying to puzzle out where Jojo might take a relationship in future updates!

Speaking of which— in her 2023 Discord gifts, Jojo also provided a handy scale for her take on each incarnation of Zelink.

For my present inquiry, this seems like a pretty definitive answer! Wars and Artemis are second from the top on the romance-scale, between Sky and Hyrule.

… except this actually tells us surprisingly little, given Hyrule’s relationship with Aurora:

This is adorable. It’s also makes for a much larger grey area for Wars and Artemis. After all, there’s a pretty big gap between “openly smitten and practically engaged” (Sky), and “there’s mutual feelings but nobody has actually said anything” (Hyrule). It doesn’t help that Wars and Legend are the only ones without additional commentary (Wild’s is included with an asterisk below the table in the same document).

This uncertainty is exacerbated by another tidbit of Jojo-gifted lore, and the biggest point of interest for me: how long it’s been between present day Linked Univese and the end of Hyrule Warriors.

It’s been six to seven years since Warriors and co. defeated Ganondorf. Aside from Time, that’s the longest adventure gap for any hero in LU.

So, here’s what we know:

1. Wars and Artemis are almost certainly romantically involved.

2. It’s more than mutual feelings, but less than an established relationship.

3. It’s been at least SIX years since the end of their adventure.

Obviously, I still have questions. Chief of which is: what does it mean that this is where their relationship stands, when it’s been 6+ years since their mutual adventure?

This sparks a few more questions.

1. If there’s mutual interest, why hasn’t it progressed?

2. Are there obstacles to a definite relationship?

and, of most interest to me:

3. If there’s an obstacle— are either Warriors or Artemis the reason for this?

Conveniently, that part’s next!

Part 2: Warriors and Artemis

A. Warriors’ side

Thus far, Wars has referenced Artemis (directly) exactly once (in “Moving Forward”):

This doesn’t tell us anything about the specifics of their relationship, but it does show that

1. Artemis is a fond subject for Wars: he cares about her.

2. She’s an exception to his hangups with secrecy: he trusts her.

(I considered providing instances of the “Wars and Not Being Told Stuff” saga, but that would 1. take forever and 2. test Tumblr’s image limit. I think we can all agree that this is a trait of his.)

This is a pretty reasonable indicator of how Wars feels about Artemis… for now. He cares about her, and even more notably, he trusts her.

But what about the princess in question?

B. Artemis’ side

As of now, the Zeldas have only come up a handful of times in LU.

Aside from background comics and cameos, references in the main story are largely restricted to Time giving Sky relationship advice in “Miss Her,” Wild addressing his thoughts to Flora at key moments in the aftermath of Twilight’s injury, and Time mentioning Lullaby in “Timeline talk 1.”

And then, of course, there are the Malon chapters.

Romance, as it pertains to the Links, is the subject of conversation at multiple points throughout this “arc”— but for my purposes, the most important stuff is this panel from “The Bet.”

Okay, aside from Wars making political-intrigue fanficcers very happy, this is super informative. A few key takeaways:

1. Wars also assumes Default Zelink.

2. He doesn’t see birth or status as an obstacle to marriage.

3. He’s so confident that he’s willing to bet on it.

(Admittedly, the Chain places a lot of bets— but it’s still worth mentioning that he’d stand his ground on this)

From here, I think we can make three statements and remain well within the realm of probability:

1. Wars thinks very highly of his Zelda.

He sees how much Time loves his wife, and Time’s general self-possession, and assumes it has to be the princess.

2. If there are obstacles to HW Zelink, they probably aren’t external.

Wars treats public support as a given, as long as the involved parties can play the political game.

3. He seems to be speaking from experience.

There’s no signs of frustration, or even a hypothetical here— he’s talking about this like it’s par for the course. Ergo, he probably hasn’t experienced anything that would contradict that assumption.

My conclusion: Artemis isn’t the obstacle. There’s no indication here that Wars’ Zelda is unable or unwilling to make the political arrangements he mentions. In fact, given how unconcerned Wars appears, I’d say it was never a point of contention at all.

That’s as far as I’m willing to go with this panel alone— but if we factor in Zelda’s attitude in Hyrule Warriors proper, I think it’s reasonable to assume that Artemis is open to taking this relationship to the next level.

*inhale*

So. If there’s mutual feelings, and there aren’t any external obstacles, and it’s been 6+ years— why aren’t they a couple?

Part 3: Let’s talk about Wars

Specifically, Wars and his relationship with… relationships. Of the romantic kind.

Since the earliest years of the LU fandom, it’s been fairly well-established that Wars is the resident flirt.

This comes from a few of the side comics, but also from the first-ever Linked Universe post:

Over time, the fandom’s interpretation of these traits seems to have shifted a bit.

Early fanworks tended to depict Warriors as the “Casanova” of the group. More recently (within the last few years), I’ve seen the widespread reading that “women problems” has more to do with Wars’ personal trauma than with a hypothetical reputation as a womanizer.

While these alternate perceptions have a big impact on how we might interpret situations like this—

— surprisingly, it makes very little difference to this self-appointed investigation. Whether he’s a chronic flirt, processing trauma, or both, the fact is that Wars doesn’t seem interested in “settling down” with a definite relationship.

This is clearest, I think, in this panel from “Powerful Ring”:

Warriors is being a tease here, but using the term “shackle” telegraphs a pretty clear opinion. Time even draws a bit of attention to it with his good-natured “aside.” It’s not something you’d say if you were actively looking to get into a long-term, committed relationship.

We’re encroaching on the image limit, but it’s worth noting that Wars’ attitude here contrasts sharply with Sky’s, and even Hyrule’s. Sky is all bashful interest, and Hyrule expresses doubt over his own ability to “settle down” as the Hero. Meanwhile Warriors, who sits between them on the Zelink romance scale, projects pointed, if very light-hearted, distaste (or at least disinterest).

So here’s Warriors’ side, updated:

1. Warriors cares about Artemis, a lot.

2. He also trusts her, a lot.

3. For whatever reason, he doesn’t want to be in an official relationship with her.

Part 4: Conclusion

Okay! Time for the TLDR:

1. Wars and Artemis are almost certainly romantically involved.

2. It’s more than mutual feelings, but less than an established relationship.

3. It’s been at least SIX years since the end of their adventure.

and, finally,

4. Wars himself is the obstacle to taking the relationship further.

Annnnd that’s as far as I can go, without veering off the tracks into headcanon territory.

Of course, while I tried to be as neutral and “canonical” as possible, at the end of the day, this is just speculation! And Esthelle amusing herself tracking down hyper-specific panels in Linked Universe like it’s an Important Assignment and not an Excuse To Read The Comic Again.

Whatever it turns out to look like, there’s so much potential in the Wars-Artemis dynamic! They’re interesting, and we should talk about them more— even if I didn’t plan to write quite this much about them in one post. I can’t wait to see what Jojo has planned.

Thanks for reading if you made it this far! If you have additions, corrections, theories, or general thoughts, I’d love to read them.

[logancreatesworlds]

Rapid Fire Headcanons for Justice Lord J'onn x black!reader:

Author's Note:

Yes, I know I've been gone for 10,000 years but I had some downtime while in grad school and working so I'm writing what I want.

Was talking about one of my favorite versions of my fave superhero with my friend @c-nstantine and this is what we came up with.

Warning: NSFW, dub con, Lord Martian Manhunter being a genuine menace. Nobody under 18 allowed. 🔞

Lord J'onn is a simple man

He sees insurrection, he puts it down before Lord Superman even sees it

America was always an odd country to him anyway, bolstering itself as the land of the free while being built on the opposite

Then there you were, with your box braids, as J'onn heard Green Lantern call them once, yelling to a group of angsty college students through a bullhorn

You were a public organizer and professor at a local university, dragging the Justice Lords over their latest set of media suppression policies

The sight of your lips cursing at him and his friends made his cock twitch

So, the Martian has you brought in on inflated charges (very easy with the Bat's help)

And he decides to keep you

You are given strict rules

You were not allowed to make a phone call to any family or friends unless on a state-sponsored phone

You cannot wear heavy clothing

And you were to dine with Lord J'onn every night

Even though he was one of seven dictators, he was cordial

Then came that faithful night when you got up to use the bathroom

Following the sound of screams - what sounded like a woman in pain, you made it to J'onn's private quarters and peeked through the cracked door

There the Martian was, mounting a human woman like a bull as Lord Wonder Woman cheered him on held her down

You covered your mouth as J'onn slapped the woman's ass, calling her all kinds of degrading names

Whore

Bitch

Slut

Cumhole

Rushing back to your room, you may or may not have touched yourself that night, imaging you were her

The next morning, Lord J'onn asks you to come to breakfast

You join him, and Lord Wonder Woman is there

Lord J'onn confronts you about watching his and Diana's nightly activities

However, he makes you an offer

"(Y/N), aren't you tired of all this...caring? Everyone wants to leech off your hard work and your compassion but when do they ever pour into you? People laughed at you when you warned them against Lex Luthor becoming president, then he did. People sneered at you when you warned them that my friends and I were coming, and then we did. Yet here you are - fighting to keep the same people who could not handle their privileges from losing what little remains. You could let go of all that nonsense...and let Diana and I take care of you instead. You don't need "freedom." What you need is to be mine. I'll not be denied, (Y/N)."

"...Go fuck yourself, Martian."

Lord J'onn doesn't give up easily

He orders you to come to his room

A new woman is tied up, naked and leaned over the bedside, her ankles and arms restrained

But she had the brightest, mind-controlled smile

"Oh hi there! Are you here to join us?"

As J'onn uses his telekinesis to hold you still while he makes you watch as he fucks her ass and pussy (at the same time), you quickly find out what happens when you say no to him

And it's a different woman each night

So, you volunteer to take their place

Lord J'onn mounts you like a bull

He ties you down

Pulls up your skirt to your waist

You can feel his excited breath as he drives his cocks inside you

"Human women like you shouldn't be controlling armies. You shouldn't be - oooh, slumming it with the proletariat. You should lay on your stomach - augh, good girl, just like this."

Despite how good laying with him was, you still rebel against him in small ways like not showing up to breakfast on time or not wearing what he tells you to

Lord Batman requests and meeting with you at his batcave, and despite thinking he's on Lord J'onn's side, you still welcome a dash of freedom

"You are in terrible danger," Lord Batman says, not even looking at you as he types away on his batcomputer

"Damn, at least say Hello first?"

"I'm serious," the Bat says, turning to you, "You are in danger and I am warning you."

He asks you to walk through the Wayne Mansion Gardens and y'all have words

"...So the Billionaire Playboy is just a cover?"

"A necessary one, which I expect you to keep secret."

"I will."

"Good."

"So why am I "in danger" then? If J'onn wanted to kill me, he would've done it by now."

"Because you have attracted the attention of a person who is almost as strong as Superman and has a laundry list of other abilities - as I'm sure you've...experienced. Did he wear a condom last time?"

Your eyes widen as you look at Batman

"Okay then, so he's trying with you," the Dark Knight muses very matter-of-factly.

"Trying?"

"You don't understand how much danger you are in. Name the last time a dictator hand-picks a woman and the contacts his co-worker to help set up false charges."

"Wait? You helped him set up those charges against me? Why?"

"Because I had no choice. And neither do you. Whatever rules you thought apply, forget them. You are in the belly of the beast now. J'onn didn't just choose you because you rebel against us. That's part of it, but not all of it. He wants a mate, and he's trying to get you pregnant."

You stand there, looking at Batman, stunned

Lord Batman's gloved hand comes from under his cape, holding a pack of non-descript pills

"What's this?" You ask, taking them from him

"Birth control medication, designed specifically for...enhanced individuals. If I were you, I would take one of these every morning. Also, this conversation never happened."

That night, you get back to the watchtower

J'onn is in your room, waiting for you

"You're late," J'onn said, clearly unhappy

"...I went out to go see a movie."

"If only you were a good liar," J'onn said, standing up and towering over you, "Where were you?"

"...Hanging out with Lord Batman."

"What did he tell you?"

"Just gave me some additional security clearance. Since we've been getting along, he says I should be treated like any other employee."

"And now you lie to me again. What did he give you?"

Before you could lie again, J'onn touches your cheek and you feel a sharp pain on your head as he goes through your memories like a music playlist

"Birth control," J'onn hisses, "Why can't he mind his own damned business?"

"At least he told me the truth! You were trying to get me pregnant."

You push J'onn, and the mountain of a Martian doesn't even move an inch

"You abuse your power. You use it to control women. And you get off on it. And I'm just supposed to be your good little breeding bitch, is that it? For what? To make you feel better about being the last Martian? Or to produce more little Martian babies? At least tell me why you've taken my life from me!"

J'onn's expression was livid

Grabbing you by your arm, he dragged you to your bed, ignoring your shouts to let you go

"I admit, your stubbornness is cute. But since you like to be difficult," Lord J'onn hissed and he undoes his pants, "We are going to establish who is in charge right now. I shall give you a hint, my love. It isn't you. Now take off your clothes."

You tried to ignore his moans as he bottomed out inside of you again

And again

And again

Until he got tired

You didn't want to admit that the way he kissed your neck or the way his dick felt inside you when it pulsed didn't feel so bad

Not bad at all, really

And that wasn't the only time the alien had his way with you

J'onn regularly made you take more pregnancy tests until he got a positive result

When you did, he was overjoyed

Your life went from lectures and rallies to nursery prep and prenatal vitamins

Diana happily arranged a wedding for you both, which the other Lords would attend with their spouses, but it was just formality

You were already marked as his

The doctor J'onn chose, an educated man by the name of Dr. Michael Holt, told J'onn that it would be a boy

You had never seen the Martian smile so brightly

That's when you knew you had to escape

Your friends in the underground helped arrange an escape from you and you slipped away from your bodyguards when you went out to get groceries

An APB was out for you within the hour

Your friend got a call on her cellphone and he eyes widened

She handed the phone to you, "It's for you, girl."

You take it, "Hello?"

"You are in so much trouble."

"...How did you get this number?"

"You think I wasn't tracking your little rebel group? You thought you could get away from me? And take my son-"

Before the Martian could continue, you hang up

Then, all of your friends' phones ring

You pick up again

"What do you want?!"

"You. There is a black van headed to that rickety building you're in. I suggest you get into it."

"And if I don't?"

You could practically hear his smirk

Your friend's phone buzzed in your hand and you look at the message

It's a video clip

And it has you...with J'onn between your legs doing something very inappropriate

"That's one my favorites," J'onn's voice muses into your ear, "I've always found homemade pornography to be better than that scripted nonsense. Perhaps your friends will agree if I show them."

"No!"

"No?"

"I mean...please don't show that."

"Then you best do as your are told and get in that van. It is outside. We shall discuss your punishment later."

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because, my little activist, you belong to me. And you look so beautiful when you ride me, but..."

Your friends ask you what's wrong and you hear a horn beep outside

"From the minute I had you brought to me, you were trapped, (Y/N). You were the movement against us but now that you are.. marked by me, your friends' rebellion is no more - and they'll agree with me when they see these videos. Oh, you know they will. Now come outside and get. In. The fucking. Car."

You shakily hand your friend her phone, making sure to delete the video, and without a word, you leave your friends as they shout after you

Getting in the van, you sat quietly as the guards escorted you back to your new home and absorbed the gravity of the situation

You belonged to him.

[rotworld]

Blue Moon

the treaty of aneptyra states that every witch must be partnered with a nightbound, but the system is far from perfect. some people slip through the cracks. some, like you, make it all the way to adulthood without ever arousing suspicion. unfortunately, all it takes is a single stroke of bad luck to ruin everything.

->an introduction to the "meanvamps" universe. contains mild gore, power imbalance, mind control and mild feral behavior.

.

.

.

Your office is about to be haunted.

It’s fixable. The lights dim and flicker but they still turn on. The cold spots are confined to one corner of the breakroom and those whispers you hear echoing in the vents are soft and indistinct, no intelligible words just yet. But management would actually have to do something to keep it from getting worse, and they’d rather fire off condescending emails about the “charm and personality of historic buildings,” as though you and all of your coworkers are collectively hallucinating the tap water in the restroom turning to black sludge, or the humanoid silhouettes that settle in empty cubicles at night.

The printers have started spitting out eerie images so you’ve started collecting them on the office corkboard, partially as a joke and partially as a cry for help. When things get quiet during the late shift, everyone gathers around to gawk like it’s an art gallery or a collection of Rorschach inkblots, musing over possible meaning in the smudges. 

“Looks like a human heart, I think,” Monroe says. 

Cindy shakes her head. “Really? I think it’s a palm tree. With skulls for coconuts.” 

“I kinda see a cat,” Devon says. He squints over his coffee mug. “A cat with a gun.” 

“With a gun?”

You stare at the misshapen thing. You know exactly what it is but you pretend you don’t. “Praying mantis, maybe?” you say. 

Monroe sighs and rubs his temples, trying to smother a budding headache. “We shouldn’t have said anything about the printer. They’re just going to say printers always act haunted. And they’re right.” 

“Maybe we should send them some pictures next time,” Devon says. You all nod, and you all know it won’t make a difference. Inspection and cleansing services aren’t cheap. Nothing will change until absolutely damning evidence rears its head, probably when someone gets mauled by whatever coalesces from the unnaturally dark shadows growing like mold in the breakroom. If the company’s smart, they’ll sell the building just as things start to boil over and make it somebody else’s problem. If your coworkers are smart, they’ll take all their emails and creepy print-offs to a good lawyer and sue this place into oblivion for endangerment and concealment of a haunting. 

It’s a mess, but it’s not your problem. You’ll be long gone by the time that happens, onto the next town. 

“Hey, uh, guys?” Your boss, Bryant, rushes over and you expect a problem because you’ve suddenly become “guys” rather than “team” or “buddies” or “my favorite people,” whatever faux-friendly corporate bullshit he usually calls you. To your surprise, he’s not here to chew you out for chatting on the clock. In fact, he doesn’t say anything right away. He keeps glancing back over his shoulder, twice, three times, tugging at his company lanyard and ID nervously. “Hey, so. I know there’s been some, ah, stress in the office lately. And I just want you to know that I hear you, and I am absolutely willing to pass along any of your concerns—”

“Is this about the thing in the bathroom?” Cindy asks.

“The—I’m sorry?” 

“The thing,” Monroe says, “in the bathroom. It moves when you’re not looking at it. We told you about it months ago, did you finally see it?” 

Bryant looks back again and you follow his gaze this time, starting to worry. He leans in, lowering his voice. “Which one of you called him?” You share silent, searching glances with your coworkers. Nobody seems to know what he’s talking about. “There’s a fucking fed outside,” he hisses. “And he wants to interview everybody who’s here right now—”

“Excuse me.”

The fed is inside, as it turns out, strolling between the cubicles with his hands in his pockets. Bryant looks like he’s going into fight-or-flight and your coworkers aren’t sure what to make of him. You stay behind everybody else and hope that he can’t distinguish your racing pulse from Bryant’s. Hauntings, potential or otherwise, fall outside the jurisdiction of human authorities. This guy isn’t a normal fed. He’s wearing something that looks borderline military, a black tailcoat with a collection of small, shiny symbols emblazoned on one shoulder, a golden canary embroidered on the left side of his chest. His ID is in its own leather case, his name and face printed on a little white card. 

Canary Task Force, it says above a headshot with the same sideswept black hair and olive eyes. Edmund. No last name listed, because he doesn’t have one. Most nightbound don’t. “My apologies for intruding,” he says, stiff and formal. “I’ve been dispatched as part of an active investigation. My name is Edmund. I’d like to speak with each of you privately before you leave this evening, if that’s no inconvenience.” 

If that’s no inconvenience, he says, as if he can’t hold you here as long as he wants. He sets up in the conference room across the hall. You can see his silhouette moving on the other side of the frosted glass. Bryant gets called in first and the rest of you convene around the water cooler. 

“You think he’s here about the haunting?” Cindy asks.

Devon shrugs. “He said ‘active investigation.’ Sounds like something else. Probably doesn’t hurt to mention it, though. The CTF loves stuff like this, especially if they get to punish somebody.” 

“We should bring him some of our printouts. You want the gun-cat or the dead spider?” Monroe jokes, nudging you with his elbow. You don’t answer. You’re too busy staring at the carpet, trying to get your breathing under control. “Uh. You alright?”

“Yeah,” you say too quickly. “Just wasn’t expecting this.” You can’t fucking believe this! You’ve kept your head down, you’ve stayed busy, you’ve avoided attracting attention to yourself as much as possible, and yet here’s a CTF agent sniffing around your workplace, about to get you alone with him. He doesn’t know, does he? He can’t know. Nobody knows. You’ve been in town for three months at the very most, smoothly left the last one by accepting an office transfer. This can’t be happening.

“They kind of freak me out, too,” Cindy admits. “They’re so intense, right? Like the way they look at you…” Devon cuts her off by clearing his throat, glancing pointedly across the hall. You can’t hear what’s going on in there but nobody’s screaming for help yet. Bryant comes out looking a little bewildered but still in one piece. 

“Excuse me, Miss?” Edmund leans out of the conference room doorway, nodding to Cindy. She stands up shakily whispering ohshitohmygod and tells you to water her daffodils if you never see her again. You consider slipping out while everyone’s distracted but that’d put you on the CTF’s radar if you’re not already. You’ll have to get through this interview. And you can—you will. You picked this city for a reason. If Edmund gets suspicious, he’ll have to investigate further, poke through your files and follow your paper trail to its eventual dead end. You’ll have skipped town by then, gotten a different name, changed your hair, whatever it takes to disappear again. 

Cindy’s interview passes quickly, or maybe you’re just so panicked you’re losing track of time. She rejoins your group huddle with a small frown. “Huh,” she says, sounding dazed and a little hoarse like she just woke up. “It wasn’t that bad, I think?” 

“Next, please.” Edmund is at the door again, looking right at you. Cindy gives you a pat on the shoulder in encouragement. You’d much rather take your chances jumping out the third floor office windows but you swallow hard, steel yourself, and head for the conference room.

Edmund smiles in what you imagine is supposed to be a friendly gesture as he shuts the door. He sits much closer than you’d like, taking the chair beside you rather than sitting across the large circular table. His posture is painfully formal like he’s posed for a professional photo, back straight, legs crossed to one side, hands joined in his lap.

“You’re nervous,” he says.

No shit. “Uh. Yeah,” you say. You don’t look at him. Should you? Is it more suspicious if you don’t? You glance up and then quickly back down again. His stare is unsettling. You’ve heard that the keen senses of the nightbound are a double-edged sword. They have to train themselves to filter extraneous stimuli, ignoring anything beyond their current focus so they don’t get overwhelmed. You have his undivided attention right now. He’s observing everything from the way you nervously squirm in your seat to the slightest twitch of muscle in your jaw. He can probably smell your sweat. He can definitely hear your heartbeat.

“Don’t worry. This is going to be a fairly routine interview. You’re not in any trouble.”

“Oh,” you say, feigning relief. Does it work? Are you convincing enough? You wish he showed any emotion beyond cold scrutiny or exaggerated concern. “Great. Okay. What do you wanna know?” 

Edmund slips back into his affable mask, that same too enthusiastic if that’s no inconvenience smile from before. “All the usual things. Your name, to start. Are you local to the area or did you move here recently?” 

You give him your most recent alias, the name your coworkers know. The rest of your answers are just as easy, and some are even the truth. You’re new in town, you’ve worked here a couple months. Night shifts in a company call center, nothing special. He asks about your commute, about your colleagues, about your boss. Easy, too easy. You see the curve ball coming before he even makes the pitch and you’re ready for it.

“Apologies, but I’m required to ask,” he says, smiling insincerely. “Are you a witch?”

You’ve practiced this in the mirror a thousand times. You pause, just long enough to sell the surprise, the confusion, a wry little smile that asks, who, me? “Uh, no,” you say, laughing awkwardly. Too awkwardly? You tone it down. “Do I look like one?” 

Edmund stares at you blankly, unimpressed with just a hint of annoyance. Good. Perfect. Maybe he’ll leave sooner. “Moving on, then. I’d like you to tell me more about your coworkers.” 

You don’t let yourself linger on the relief that rushes through you, not wanting him to sense it. You’re not in the clear yet. Yes, you like your coworkers just fine. No, you don’t really know the day shift people. You’re not very social and you like the quiet, almost-empty office. No, nobody’s been acting weird lately. That’s a strange thing to ask, you think. You wonder what this “investigation” is all about. But you keep answering and Edmund listens intently, drumming his fingers on the table. You’re not sure when he started doing it. Ta-ta-ta-tap, like he’s bored or restless. Fine by you. 

“Does anyone in the office seem unusually tired lately?” Edmund asks. Ta-ta-ta-tap. “Maybe you’ve noticed someone coming in late, or calling in sick often?” Ta-ta-ta-tap. 

You let your confusion show but you keep your apprehension to yourself. “I don’t think so. I mean, we’re all pretty worn out by the end of our shift,” you say, drawing the words out and glancing at the ceiling to feign careful consideration. You’re a little too focused on minding your own business to notice what anyone else is doing. And even if you had, you wouldn’t tell this guy. Bryant would rat you out in a heartbeat but the rest of you are sworn to secrecy. 

That’s a huge red flag, though. He’s definitely looking for someone, but who and why? 

“I see. Just a few more questions and I’ll let you go.” Edmund smiles. Ta-ta-ta-tap. The noise was a little annoying at first but now you hardly notice it. It’s kind of nice to listen to, something other than the low hum of the air conditioning. More questions, easy ones, about the minutiae of your work schedule. When does your shift start? When does it end? What’s a typical evening like? Gradually, you sink back against your chair in a comfortable slouch, relaxed, calm, tired. Really, really tired. You can barely keep your eyes open. Ta-ta-ta-tap. Edmund says something but it’s just noise, wordless murmuring you could fall asleep to. 

And then he asks, “Are you under?” 

“Mm. Yeah,” you say. You feel like you’re floating. Drifting away somewhere. Edmund opens a notebook and starts jotting something down, his free hand continuing that same, soothing rhythm. Ta-ta-ta-tap. A sudden realization settles more firmly into place. You can trust him. You feel absolutely certain of this, more sure than you’ve ever been about anything. He’s not your enemy. You think you were afraid of him before but that feeling is far away now, distant and forgettable. He’s here to help. He’d probably help fix the haunting if you told him about it. 

“You told me about the haunting already,” he says. You did? You can’t remember. “You did, just now. One of your colleagues also explained it in detail. You’ve endured that for long enough and I’ll inform my superiors so it’s handled promptly.” His pen pauses over the paper and he looks at you. His eyes scared you before, but they calm you now. You were completely wrong about him. You can tell him anything. “That’s right, you can. That’s all you have to do right now. When I ask you something, you answer and tell the truth. Simple enough, right?” You nod. You can do that. It’s so nice of him to make things easy for you and take all the complicated thoughts away. “Now, I have to ask you some questions. I know it’s silly, but they’re the same questions I asked you before.” That is silly, but you don’t mind. “One more time. Your name?” 

You say it. Your real one this time, not the alias you gave him before when you didn’t realize you could trust him.

He regards you strangely, frowning a little. Was that wrong? Did you make him unhappy? “No, not at all. Thank you for telling me. I have more questions about that, but we’ll come back to it later.” 

He asks the same things he did before just like he said he would. You answer everything the best you can. You don’t want to disappoint him. You see him making notes, scribbling quickly. Where are you from? How well do you know your coworkers? Have you noticed any of them behaving strangely? Some of your answers are different now but he tells you that’s okay, everything is okay. Ta-ta-ta-tap and your worries dissipate before they’ve properly taken root.

“And are you a witch?” he asks, a question which makes something inside you lurch like you’re about to fall. You’re not sure why. It’s not hard to answer.

“Yes,” you say. 

Edmund pauses. He looks up from his notes and stares at you. His expression is complicated. Too complicated for you to think about right now, so you don’t. It’s okay. Everything is okay. “I’m sorry, could you repeat that? To confirm, you said you’re a witch?” he asks slowly. There’s that feeling again, that yanking nausea, your heart plummeting in your chest. That smooth, easy current carrying you through mindless tranquility seems choppy and dangerous now. That soothing ta-ta-ta-ta-tap makes you flinch. You shouldn’t listen to it. He’s trying to drag you back under again. “It’s okay,” he says softly, so softly. Everything is okay. You can trust him, can’t you? You can tell the truth.

“Yes. I’m a witch.”

Terror shocks you awake. You feel like you’ve narrowly escaped drowning, tense and gasping, skin tingling unpleasantly. You bolt out of your chair, sick with fear. Edmund is on his feet just as quickly, hands raised in a pacifying gesture. 

“It’s alright,” he says gently, like he’s talking to a spooked horse. But it’s not alright. Everything is fucked. Your life is over. “This is…completely out of my jurisdiction. Not my department at all.” Somehow he looks just as lost for words as you are, just as blindsided. His eyes dart to the door behind you and you know you’re both thinking the same thing, planning a swift exit that doesn’t alarm your coworkers. “You’re not registered in Skelveross,” he says. “Do you know how I know that?” 

You don’t answer. You don’t care. Your eyes scan the room in a frantic and useless search for exits. 

“Because there’s a database, and I have every name and face that’s in it memorized. It’s not as long as you might think.” He takes a half-step forward and you stumble back, heart in your throat. “Something tells me you’re not registered anywhere,” he says, sounding almost pained. “I don’t know how that could’ve happened, but we can fix this. You just have to see the Council. In fact, I could escort you—”

“No,” you say hoarsely. You’re not going to cry in front of him even though your whole world is crumbling. You’re not.

Edmund seems surprised by your refusal. He flinches at your interruption, frowning tightly. You see him thinking. Weighing his options. Eventually, he smiles, and this one is terrifyingly real. His coldness thaws and he is awed, hopeful and brimming with adoration, looking at you like the most precious thing in the world. He finally lowers his hands and his posture relaxes, leaning casually against the table. “Understandable,” he says. “I wanted to ask you a few more things, but I suppose that can wait until next time. Your shift ended half an hour ago, didn’t it? You’re probably exhausted.” He’s careful, angling his body so you don’t see him settling one hand against the surface of the table, but it doesn’t matter. You’re already gone. 

You don’t care who sees you sprinting full speed out of the conference room or what they think. You barrel into the stairwell, taking the steps two at a time. He let me go. The thought cycles through your mind on a panicked loop. He let me go, but why? He should’ve been faster. Is he starving? That can’t be right. He doesn’t have to be partnered to have access to blood. Maybe he knew how it’d look, a nightbound chasing after a terrified human after being stuck in close quarters together. Predation charges don’t usually stick but it’d be a headache and a PR blunder for the local Council, a potential stumbling block the next time they want something from the human authorities. In that case, the smart thing for him to do is wait. Reassure your coworkers. Leave calmly. 

Then come after you while you’re alone, without any witnesses around.

The only thing that keeps you from sprinting all the way to the train station is the need to keep a low profile. You’re minutes from every nightbound in the city knowing your name and where you work and probably where you live. You fidget restlessly at the platform, racking your brain for a way out of this. Seven hours is too long to hide and wait for sunrise. Go home and pack? No, no way, they’ll check there first. Showing up at the airport is a bad idea but maybe you could hitchhike? Leaving town is just the start. You need to get out of the territory entirely to shake the CTF.

You toss your phone in the trash without a second thought. It was a burner anyway. They can fish it out if they want but your call history is all business and your texts won’t tell them anything more than what Edmund already got out of you. Could you catch a bus? There’s a cheap intercity service with a terminal downtown, but you’d need to leave tonight. Edmund might not be able to chase you when dawn rolls around, but you know the CTF playbook: encirclement, then slowly closing the noose. They start at the edge of the territory and work their way inward, setting up barricades and strangling the highways with checkpoints that will slow traffic to a single-lane crawl. It usually takes a day or two for the Council to wrangle approval from the human municipal government to start closing roads and getting their hands on surveillance footage. You can’t wait around to see how fast they manage it this time.

The glowing sign of a car rental business lures you in. That’s your best bet, you think, especially since it’s some dingy fly-by-night company that takes cash and doesn’t ask too many questions. The only problem is you’re not the only one with the same idea tonight. The line is short but slow, a kid who doesn’t look old enough to even rent a car himself slouched behind the counter. The dingy off-white of the wall clock is seared into your eyes, the sweep of the minute hand seeming purposefully cruel in its slowness. 

The automatic doors are overly sensitive and misaligned, squealing open for a sufficiently strong breeze. You always look, just in case. You yawn and stretch, making a show of your exhaustion to mask your fear, and take another look around. It’s fuck off o’clock on a week night. Nobody around but the desperate few, people who look tired, pensive and a little bit haunted. The man ahead of you in line takes a phone call that’s nothing but hissed whispers. A couple who came in after you doze against each other’s shoulders. A fluorescent light tube winks and buzzes. The shadows are too thick to trust. When you finally have your keys and a pamphlet of paperwork you won’t read, you all but sprint out the door.

You’re flinging the driver’s side door of a silver hatchback open when you suddenly break out in a cold sweat. It’s the feeling of being watched cranked up to its maximum, skin-crawling intensity, the ghostly weight of a predator’s gaze raking down your back. It’s fine. It’s fine. You start the car and check the rearview mirror a few times as you pull out of the lot. Somebody’s just coming out of the automatic doors in what looks like a uniform but you’re too far away to tell for sure. You turn on the radio and try to calm down. Somewhere along a quiet country road, you hear what you think is the start of a storm. Something like thunder but soft still, far away. Heavy gusts of wind.

“…lo? Hello? Can you hear me?”

You almost swerve into the guardrail. It sounds like someone’s right next to you, whispering in your ear. You swear you can feel their breath tickle your skin. But there isn’t. The passenger seat is empty. 

“Please slow down. You’re well over the speed limit.”

“Edmund?” you say. Your voice is remarkably steady for how terrified you feel. “Wh—how—?”

“My mesmerism is…slow.” You feel a nervous twinge in your chest. Embarrassment? Sheepishness? These aren’t your feelings. They’re his. “But it also takes much longer to wear off. Right now, you and I are connected, although it’s tenuous given the distance between us.” He must be out here somewhere, trying to find you. You don’t see any other headlights yet. “You feel…afraid. And lonely. You’ve been on your own for a very long time.” You don’t dignify that with a response. You feel soothing warmth, like Edmund is trying to embrace you, but the sensation doesn’t last. You’re too furious to be soothed by the very thing that wants to cage you.

“What would it take to make you look the other way and pretend you lost me?” you ask.

You feel his dismay like a cold trickle, unpleasant and distressing. “I’m only going to ask once,” he says, tone hardening. “Pull over.”

“Fuck you.” 

“Then I apologize in advance. I’ll try to be careful.”

The wind picks up again and the thunder seems closer, but it can’t be a storm. The sky is clear, a waxing moon shining through a thin gauze of clouds, trees motionless at the roadside. You look back again, searching for a CTF vehicle, and that’s when you see it—a moving shape in the dark. Not a vehicle at all but something alive. It’s big, you think, like a horse, an elk, a stampeding thing but sleeker and gaining on you. You can barely make out any details with nothing but the glow of your taillights haloing the thing’s frightening shape, but you think you see large, reflective eyes and horn-like protrusions, dark fur and sinewy limbs stretched wide.

Wings, you realize. That noise is the sound of the thing flying, soaring after you with predatory grace and agility. It shrieks and its voice is nails screaming down a chalkboard, a painful shrillness that makes you wince and slam your foot harder on the gas. You hear it screech again and see it darting and swooping through the air behind you, struggling to keep up. The road goes blurry through your angry, helpless tears and you drag your palm across your face. You’ve had nightmares like this before. Getting found out, cornered, chased by nightbound, torn to pieces or bled dry in a fit of rage, dragged before an unfeeling Council that sentences you to a life of servitude beneath something so ancient it no longer understands what it means to be human.

Your connection with Edmund has become a headache-inducing stream of pleading and hissing and primal desire all at once, no stop stop slow down not safe listen not going to hurt you listen need you need you NEED YOU!!

The thing lets out another horrible screaming noise and you see it coming, descending, closing in on you like prey. It rams into your car hard enough to send you screeching off the road. You hit the ditch too hard and at the wrong angle, still trying to straighten out and stop yourself from slamming into the trees ahead. The car starts to lean and tip and you realize you’re about to roll, crash, die—

The collision comes before you expect it, a thunderous slam on the passenger side that dents the door and brings you to a sudden stop. All the air in your lungs rushes out in a wheeze, your head spinning. You’re in shock. You shouldn’t be upright, you think, probably shouldn’t even be alive. Something drags over the hood of your car with jerky, animalistic movements, claws scraping steel, a translucent, fleshy membrane squealing across the windshield. The doors are locked but that doesn’t matter. The driver’s side is wrenched open, the door torn off the hinge and flung skittering and sparking down the road. The thing looms just outside, lowering its head to examine you. You look back at it, the two of you studying each other in tense silence.

Yes yes yes have you now, you hear as bright, smothering joy floods your thoughts, safe you’re safe you’re with me safe now.

This is a hunting form. Like many nightbound, its shape is something like an enormous bat. It has a short, curved snout and small daggers for teeth. Those things you mistook for horns are large, conical ears that twitch and swivel. Its body is covered in black fur, a thick patch wreathing its neck like a lion’s mane. One of its arms is crooked, you notice, and starting to swell. You’re alive because it threw itself at your car to keep it from flipping over. You want to hate it but you can’t tear your eyes away from the fresh wound, the way one wing droops like a ripped sail. It did that for you, without hesitation.

You’re dimly aware of things happening beyond the two of you. Car engines rumbling. Tires scraping the cement. Black CTF vehicles blocking off every escape route, stylized canaries emblazoned on their sides. Doors rumble open and slam shut. You could fight if you really wanted to. You could try to push your way past the thing, run for the trees. You wouldn’t get far. It’s over, you know that. You can’t make yourself move. You’re so tired of running, of leaving every place you go and every person you meet, of changing yourself over and over again, living as a stranger because the real you will bring nothing but trouble. You want a bed that’s yours. A place you can always go back to. A person who knows you and cares about you—who would love you even if your blood was the same as anyone else’s. 

There’s a sick sound of cracking bone and the leathery squeal of skin reshaping. The thing grunts as it twists itself into a smaller shape, fur receding into sweat-soaked skin. When it settles, Edmund is kneeling there naked and panting. Without his uniform, you can see the marks littering his body. Lashes and claw slashes, burns in gnarled, spotty patches, old bullet wounds that healed into puckered scar tissue. He runs a hand through his hair, his carefully combed bangs now disheveled and sticking to his forehead. 

“This is overkill, isn’t it?” you say as more headlights blink over the horizon. Thirty, maybe thirty five CTF agents in total when you do a rough headcount, watching them watch you. A lot of them are making phone calls. Reporting to the Council, you assume, piecing together all the identities you’ve lived under in the last few years. “All this for one witch.” 

“You’re worth it,” Edmund says. Even winded and still struggling to catch his breath, his voice has a hard, determined edge to it, absolute and unshakable conviction. There’s no reasoning with someone who’s so sure they’re right. “I know you’re afraid. But this is going to be—”

“Shut up.” You tilt your head back, letting out the breath you’ve been holding. “You have no idea what’s about to happen to me. You can’t possibly understand.” Edmund frowns. He looks at you the same pitying way one might look at a waterlogged kitten or a child crying on a playground, some small, sad thing in need of rescue or protection. You can’t stand it, so you lean back in your seat, close your eyes, and savor your last moments of freedom with tears spilling down your cheeks.

*

The Skelveross Dusk Council meets in Harrow Creek, a city near the heart of the territory. It’s an hour drive from where Edmund ran you off the road, plenty of time for you to break down completely in his backseat. He looks physically pained by your distress, clearly uncomfortable as he murmurs useless platitudes about how good it’ll be to “put this all behind you.” He stops twice to crack open the cooler sitting in the passenger seat, sipping from a blood bag kept on ice, and that lets him use his broken arm without wincing.  By the time you’ve exhausted yourself into listless apathy, you’re in what might be a historical district surrounded by brick buildings and manicured lawns. You don’t have to ask where you’re going. There’s a behemoth of Gothic architecture looming ahead, a cross between a cathedral and a courthouse. The white stone exterior is adorned with decorative arches, crescent moons and birds in flight, ancient symbols of the nightbound.

Edmund clears his throat awkwardly and doesn’t quite make eye contact in the mirror. “That’s the Council building,” he says, gesturing with a nod. “The CTF offices are right behind it if you, ah. Ever need anything. I’m not sure how much you know about this area. You can think of Harrow Creek as the ‘capital’ of the territory. Skelveross is a small region, comparatively speaking, but it’s extremely well-defended. You’ll never have to worry about hunters here.” 

He keeps glancing back at you, maybe hoping you’ll say something, show interest, ask him a question. You don’t. You watch the Council building and its spire bell tower grow steadily closer with dread cold and heavy in your stomach.

Edmund offers to put you under mesmerism for the meeting and seems taken aback by your shock and revulsion. “I thought it might help. You’re so nervous,” he says. You’d like to scream, but you settle for an exasperated glance and follow him inside. 

The Council building is dark like a tomb. There are no light fixtures, no candles or lamps. The weak, watery light that seeps into the mazelike corridors is the glow of street lamps filtered through stained glass, too dim for you to properly take in your surroundings. You cross paths with other nightbound only rarely. Most are CTF agents who exchange greetings with Edmund before continuing on their way, but you spot others just waiting around, sitting outside of offices or filling out paperwork. 

A pair of double doors waits at the end of a long hallway, old wood carved with intricate swirls and floral patterns. Each has a spot of vandalism, deep gouges where the etchings have been obliterated by repeated slashes. “The Dagaric family crest was once displayed upon these doors,” Edmund says solemnly. “They were removed centuries ago to symbolize our transition to a democracy. This is no place for tyrants.” Nightbound politics. You don’t want to know. Edmund pushes one of the doors open and steps aside, holding it for you. You see darkness broken by islands of light, candles lining a grand staircase. The wax is red, the puddles they melt into thick like coagulated blood. A chandelier adorned with dangling crystal strings glows with golden dusklight. This is all for you, prepared for your arrival. The nightbound need no light. 

You descend between rows and rows of red velvet seats, most of them empty. The nightbound in attendance are clustered at the very bottom, seated before a raised stage platform. You catch glimpses of grandeur in the flickering candlelight; a Victorian patterned carpet, curtained alcoves with sculptures and glass display cases, a mural on the ceiling of winged figures in lurid embraces. This might have been a theater of some kind once, an opera house that entertained the nightbound nobility of bygone eras. You can’t imagine how much blood has soaked the floor over the years.

There’s a table on the stage, long enough to accommodate the five nightbound seated behind it. The Dusk Council, you assume. They’re not much different from how you imagined them, stern-faced and imperious, dressed like Victorian lords and ladies in stiff coats and billowing sleeves. They’re all chatting when you walk in, the conversation light and casual with a bit of quiet laughter, but they fall silent when you’re halfway down the steps. That’s when the ones on stage spot you and Edmund. Nightbound eyes gleam in the dark like an animal’s. You fight an instinctual surge of terror when they all turn to look at you, points of silver light following your every move.

“Edmund,” one of the Council members says, nodding. “Well done.” 

Edmund bows his head and you roll your eyes. ‘Not his jurisdiction,’ my ass. At the bottom of the stairs, you find two seats that have been left open in the very front row. Edmund waits for you to sit before taking the open spot beside you, as if running could get you anywhere now. Your name is spoken. Your real name, in full. You flinch. Nobody’s called you that in a long time. One of them passes a stack of papers down the table and they take turns giving you incredulous looks. 

“We must apologize for the disorganized manner of this meeting,” one of them says. “Your situation is unusual and we don’t have all the information we normally would. For a witch to reach your age without proper registration, even as a latent, is simply unheard of. I don’t suppose you’d tell us if you’ve been staying with other unregistered kin?” 

“I haven’t seen my family in years,” you say.

For some reason, this confuses them. They look at each other, then at you, then back at one another with some whispering. You shift uncomfortably in your seat. Edmund is giving you that misty-eyed veterinarian with a sick dog look again and you wish he’d stop. 

“Are you aware of who currently holds the title of Lord Regent in Skelveross?” you’re asked.

You stare at them. “Am I supposed to know that?” you ask. More worried looks and muttering, papers shuffling and being passed around. 

“This is highly irregular,” one of the Council mutters. “Highly irregular. And without records, I’m not sure how we can make a proper match.” 

“They’re not walking out of here unpartnered,” another says firmly. “That’s much too dangerous.”

You clench your armrests in irritation. “I was doing fine, you know,” you tell them. “I was just living my life. Sometimes it was tough, but that was your fault. When I wasn’t looking over my shoulder, I was happy. I didn’t need you.” 

They don’t care. They keep talking in hushed tones, gesturing in your general direction from time to time—all but one. The one in the middle, two Council members on either side of him, sets his papers down and gives you his undivided attention. This one is ancient. You can sense it. His face has the same unnerving, ageless quality as all nightbound, neither soft and youthful nor particularly wizened, but his eyes pin you in place. You expected something more like Edmund, a gaze sharpened with piercing, predatory focus like a wolf who isn’t quite hungry yet, but this one’s eyes are like no living thing found in nature. Nothing is meant to live that long, to see that much and remain unchanged. He stands from the table with effortless grace, his chair scraping the floor as he pushes it out behind him. 

“Then surely you can prove it,” he says.

The sudden silence feels like a warning. The Council stops their overlapping conversations to look between the two of you in muted shock and dismay. “Wh—prove what?” you ask.

“You said you do not need us. An extraordinary claim, but I am open to a good argument.” He holds your gaze as he walks slowly down the length of the table and around it, coming to stand directly in front of you. He’s dressed like a CTF agent but the tails of his coat are longer, the waistcoast beneath a shimmery, midnight blue brocade. His hair is just long enough to tie back in a low, short ponytail. “You have survived the treacheries of the world without the protection of a partner thus far. If you can prove to me that this was a matter of skill rather than luck, then I will let you walk away. You will not be pursued.”

“Lord Regent,” someone stammers behind him. He stops them with a curt wave and watches you carefully. 

This has to be a trap. There’s no way he’d risk letting you go. But the Council is exchanging worried glances now and Edmund is trying desperately to make eye contact in your periphery. Don’t, he mouths, the word faintly echoed in your waning connection. The Lord Regent—the title sticks in your mind just long enough for you to think that this is a bad idea, that you shouldn’t be doing this, that this might actually get you killed—cocks his head to the side, awaiting an answer. He smiles, and you see red.

“Good,” he purrs, watching you unceremoniously haul yourself up onto the stage. He removes his black gloves one finger at a time and then shrugs off his coat, letting it crumple on the floor. 

“Lord Regent, do you really think this is—?”

“I would like to take this opportunity to reopen a discussion started earlier this evening,” he says smoothly.

Your blood is boiling. He doesn’t seriously think he’s going to hold a meeting right now, does he? You can’t remember the last time you were this angry, your face hot and your hands balled up into shaky, sweaty-palmed fists. You’re outmatched, you know that, but you want to hit him at least once. You want to feel his nose crack and shift under your knuckles, want to see that cocky sneer swallowed up by bruises when you knock his fangs out of his mouth. You throw yourself at him with no plan, no strategy, nothing but searing anger, and he neatly sidesteps your fist. He’s still smiling when he lunges forward and it all happens too fast for you to see or understand—a hand grasping your shoulder, a leg sweeping you off your feet, and then you’re spinning, landing hard on the wooden stage with all the air knocked out of your lungs. 

“What is our greatest obstacle in ensuring a witch is properly registered?” he continues, turning his back on you. You wheeze furiously, struggling to push yourself up with your elbows. “I will tell you: it is the witch themselves. Concealment is an epidemic of such staggering proportions that we have lost entire generations. This wayward child knows nothing of the world they rightfully belong to. How many have gone unpartnered because of this? How many live and die beyond our reach?” 

He must hear you stand up. You’re slow and clumsy, your head throbbing and your shoulders sore. The stage creaks beneath your unsteady feet and your pulse thunders in your ears. Your vision swims and your stomach quivers with dizzy nausea. You shouldn’t be on your feet but you push yourself forward, one shambling step after another, driven by hate and fear and desperation unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. 

Your hand wraps around his shoulder, squeezing. Under black silk sleeves, you feel steely cords of muscle. He turns just slightly, just far enough for you to glimpse the smile on his lips. And then he has you, a hand clutching the back of your shirt, another grasping your sleeve, pulled close to him like you’re dancing but only for a moment. Then you’re weightless, the room tilting, the floor rushing up to meet you. You land on your back and there’s an awful animal noise like something shrieking half-dead in the woods at night, and it takes time for you to realize it came from your own mouth. 

“Lord Regent, please.” That sounds like Edmund, you think. You aren’t sure. You can’t even lift your head to look. There’s murmuring all around you, words you can’t understand with the ringing in your ears. Trying to get up again makes you feel like there’s shards of glass ground up into your muscles, pinpricks and sweeping pulses of pain. You’ve got nothing left. Even turning on your side is a monumental effort, a mistake that makes your side prickle and burn. 

You see him. The Lord Regent. His back to you. You see the rest of them, too, standing from their seats with stern, solemn faces, Edmund biting his lip so hard a rivulet of blood trickles down his chin. Your fingers twitch, arms outstretched and hands splayed limp. No. You have something left. You can’t control it and you don’t fully understand it, a true last resort, but you have something. You try to clench your hand into a fist again but it just curls weakly. You smell it first, just faintly, a paradox of odor—sharp, permeating, yet featureless, a scent that isn’t. The chill in your nose on a frigid winter day. You feel numbness and tingling. You see magic, weak and unfocused, gathering at your fingertips. It shivers like a mirage. 

This is a bad idea. You’ve been on the run too long and you’ve never had lessons, no mentors, not even a chance to practice. The magic spins into a miniature vortex, a whirlpool of distortion in the air, and you feel it growing, getting hungrier. It might kill you. It might kill everyone here. It might bulldoze through this auditorium like a wrecking ball and leave a gaping wound of all your last furious thoughts behind, a haunting the size of an office building—

The Lord Regent lunges for you, one hand wrapped around your throat in a firm, choking grip. You don’t have the strength to stop him. You try to hold onto the magic but it’s fizzling out, unraveling in your hand. He’s so close to you now. Pinning you down with his body, straddling your waist. His hands are not perfectly smooth. You feel bumps and ridges against your throat. Scars. Calluses. His eyes are a stormy blue. His lips are moving and you can’t hear him, can’t hear anything over the static in your head, but somehow you know what he means to say. 

"That’s enough."

You breathe slowly beneath the loosening pressure of his thumb. You can feel yourself slipping under. His mesmerism is subtle but it’s stronger than Edmund’s, a wave of stifling calm washing over you. No matter how hard you cling to your anger, it fades like dying embers. You don’t want to fight anymore. 

"I do this for you. For all of us. We will not survive alone, you or I. Someday you will understand."

Time passes, but you’re barely aware of it. Everything is softness and delight. Sometimes the pain will come back, needling at your back and sides, but it’s chased away with a soothing whisper and a hand stroking your head. Gentle fingers massage your scalp and you bury yourself deeper in the warm comfort of the moment. You surface gradually. The Lord Regent gives your mind back piece by piece. Awareness first, the realization that you’re kneeling. That there is a cushion under you, keeping your legs from the hard ground. That you’re at his side while he sits at the Council’s table and he wants to keep you there—forever if he could, just like this, drifting and happy. That someone is speaking, and that he is petting you like a beloved, loyal animal, stealing glimpses whenever he can. 

You pull your head out of his lap slower than you’d like, mindful of the ache in your neck and shoulders. He gives you one last look, smug and satisfied, and then returns his attention to the rest of the Council. “Loathe as I am to admit it, perhaps you have a point,” he says, sounding contrite. “I cannot claim impartiality. Someone else should draft the proposal. We will hold the vote another time.”

“We appreciate your understanding, Lord Regent,” one of the others says. “No disrespect is meant, but perhaps it is best to approach this with the benefit of time and distance. None of us are as clear-headed as we should be tonight.” 

“Indeed. That just leaves us with the matter of placement.” All eyes are on you again. The Lord Regent frowns thoughtfully. “Young nightbound take priority. And yet, I cannot in good conscience partner a fledgling with a witch so…volatile.”

“May I address the Council?” 

A new voice speaks and a new, unsettling silence falls over the auditorium. You see a nightbound walking down the aisle, already halfway down the steps. You didn’t hear him come in but that’s not surprising. Even now, his footsteps are nearly silent. The others recoil when he draws near, trembling and wide-eyed. They respect the Lord Regent, but they fear this one. You can’t see him clearly until he’s nearly reached the bottom of the steps, stepping into the glow of the chandelier. He’s stunning. Long dark hair tumbles over his shoulders and frames sharp, androgynous features. He wears a long, trailing garment, form-fitting at his chest but loose and flowing below the waist like an evening gown, clinging sleeves of black lace adorning his arms. His footsteps are slow and graceful as he glides down the stage.

“Athanasius,” the Lord Regent greets. He’s the only one who doesn’t look scared shitless. He inclines his head in a slight bow, smiling like there’s a joke you’re missing. “It is rare for you to grace us with your presence these nights. Please, speak.” 

Athanasius surveys the Council with a quick glance back and forth. Each of them flinch in their seats. Some avert their eyes, clinging to their papers in desperation for something else to look at. Then he looks at you and your breath catches in your throat. His gaze is paralyzing. You’re reminded of the unnerving feeling you got when you first saw the Lord Regent, the incomprehensible abyss of time within his eyes. This one is old, too. Maybe even older. “As you know,” he says, his voice soft and irresistibly sweet, “I have a convenire, here in Harrow Creek. We recently had a new arrival. They are all young, but the newest is by far the youngest. He was sired during the last Waxing Nights.”

You expect to hear muttering here, discussion, disagreement, but there’s nothing. Not a word from any of them. It feels like the entire auditorium is holding its breath. The Lord Regent hums, considering. “Ah, yes. The dissenter’s child.” You glance between them, trying to piece together what’s about to happen to you. A convenire—that’s just what nightbound call it when a bunch of them live together, isn’t it? “That would indeed solve several problems at once.” 

The rest of the Council gradually thaws from their frozen terror, a few of them offering weak platitudes and agreements. You have no idea what they think of this, but you see more paperwork emerging from somewhere, hear the rapid scribbling of ink pens. They seem eager, at least, for him to leave. “It’s a bit unusual,” one of them says. “But so are the circumstances. Perhaps this will be a good match.” Several of them glance at you briefly with sad, pitying gazes. 

“Very well.” The Lord Regent offers you a smile. Maybe it’s genuine. Maybe it’s not. You can’t tell, but he sounds far too excited. “Wayward child,” he says, his tone solemn and official, “you are hereby sentenced to sacramental service within the convenire of Athanasius. You shall defer to his judgment and you shall submit to his authority before all other nightbound. You shall offer your blood to all members of the convenire without complaint or question. Should you perform your duties satisfactorily, you may earn the sacred gift of partnership. May you find peace and fulfillment in your service.” 

You inhale shakily. That’s it, then. You belong to someone. A packet of papers are passed down the table, signed by each Council member. It makes its way back to the Lord Regent, who stamps it with an ink seal. That’s all the fanfare there is, and then they start talking about something else. 

“Shall we go?” Athanasius is standing beside you on the stage. The suddenness of his proximity should scare you, but you don’t have the energy to be afraid anymore. “Unless you would like to stay longer,” he says. He smiles, teasing you gently. As though this is something you might find humor in. You watch him sink down to one knee. The folds of his gown gather in a puddle beneath him, dark like shadows. “I will not pretend to understand how you feel nor will I feed you sweet lies. Sacramental service is a punishment. The fledglings in my care have suffered greatly and they will likely inflict this suffering upon you. They do not know what else to do with it. You will be housed, fed and protected, and you will have your own quarters, but I know that means little to you now.”

You hear him but you aren’t really listening. Tears spill down your cheeks and you do nothing to stop them. You flinch when Athanasius lifts his hand, catching a droplet trickling by the corner of your mouth. 

“There is a car waiting for us outside,” he says. “Can I trust you to cooperate, or will you make this difficult?” 

“I’ll make this as difficult for you as I can,” you promise him. You hold his gaze no matter how uncomfortable it makes you. You don’t back down. “You won’t know peace. By the end of this, you’re going to hate me as much as I hate you.”

Athanasius laughs, melodic and clear as a bell. His hand traces the curve of your jaw, thumb stroking your lips. “How delightful,” he purrs, “that you think there will be an end to this.” He leans in, pressing his lips to your forehead. There is no gentle easing, no subtle nudge of mesmerism, just the maw of thoughtless oblivion swallowing you whole.

[gretavanflame]

Baby Breathe

Jake Kiszka x Reader (f)

Cw: SMUT including: vulgar phone sex, use of pet names, mutual masturbation, rough penetration, technically exhibitionism but like not really I swear, slight pining

Word Count: 1.4k

“Hey baby” his voice is a low whisper, sounding gravely over the phone and quiet enough not to be heard by the other boys on the tour bus. 

“Hey Jake!” You blink the sleep from your eyes, sitting up to lean against the wall.

“I miss you so much.”

Jake closes his eyes, a smile creeping on his face as he hears your sleepy mumble. 

“I miss you too.” He sighs, sounding tired as well. He pauses. You can hear his breathing, and it sounds like he’s just walked up a long flight of stairs.

“What time is it for you, cupcake?” 

“Umm…” You check your phone screen. “Almost 12 am here.”

“Oh shit-” he chuckles. He sounds exhausted and his deep voice is a steady rumble. “I didn’t mean to make you stay up late. Please forgive me.”

You giggle at his charm and the way he so effortlessly makes you smitten. 

“What time is it for you?” 

“It’s almost 2. We just got back, but I wanted to call you before I went to bed.”

You hear him shift on the tour bus cot. 

“I miss you so fucking much y/n. You know that right?”

“Of course I do. I miss you so much. The house just feels so empty without you. Are you doing okay? You sound tired.”

“Yeah we’re all good here- just a long day is all. Wanted to talk to my favorite girl.”

You roll over to the side of your bed, holding the phone right up to your ear in the pitch black room, smiling so hard you feel like your lips might fall off. 

“Well I want to talk to my favorite boy.”

You wait for his response, closing your eyes to conjure up an image of your sweet man when you hear something that grabs your attention. A moan- the softest sound, drifting gracefully off his tongue. You freeze, positive you’ve imagined it but straining your ears to hear it again. After just a beat, it comes- this time with a sort of desperate breathy quality. Your thighs clamp together. 

“What are you wearing?” he chokes, sounding half desperate.

“I’m just wearing underwear” you lie, turning on your back as your legs fall open. “The black lace one you got me before you left.”

“Fuck.” he whispers.

You hear something wet. Something slick, moving slowly to a steady beat. It’s so quiet over the phone that you hold your breath just to hear it.

“Take them off,” he demands cooly. 

You quickly slide the panties down your legs, letting them fall to the floor. Your legs spread in anticipation. 

“Touch your tits baby. Just squeeze and pinch those nipples for me.”

You do as you're told, sliding your hand up your tank top to touch and squeeze yourself.

“Spread your legs y/n” Jake groans.

“I already am.”

“Goodgirl.” 

You feel a rush of heat to your core.

“I want you to open the drawer, and pull out your little dildo. Tell me when you’ve done that, okay?”

“Okay” you reply promptly, eager, as if responding to him is as instinctive as breathing.

You open the drawer, searching blindly until your hand reaches silicone.

“I’ve got it.”

“Give it a kiss.”

You bring the toy to your mouth, kissing the spot just under its tip, just how Jake likes it. You imagine his cock twitching in your mouth- the precum mixing with your saliva, making the hot, pink skin shine. 

“I bet you look so fucking sexy right now. Alone is bed already riled up just because of the sound of my voice. I bet you want me y/n” he states, leaving no room for disagreement, although there wouldn’t have been anyway.

“I want you so fucking bad Jakey. When you get home, I need you to fuck me right away so I don’t have wait any longer for your cock.”

He lets a whimper slip out before quickly regaining his footing.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard that all you won’t be able to sit for a week. I wanna feel you stretch around me, squeeze me till I fucking burst.” A tiny, “fuck” followed by a moan. “My hand doesn’t feel as good as your pretty, little, pussy.” 

His hand works over himself faster now, breath becoming louder. 

“Put it in your mouth.”

You lick the underside of the dildo, momentarily forgetting that it isn’t actually him before you rest in on your tongue, sliding into your mouth.

“Imagine it's me. Suck my cock baby. Suck it real nice and deep.”

You push it in an inch deeper, eyes shutting tight when a small gag forces its way from your throat.

“Good job baby. You sound so fucking good. My cock hurts.”

“I wanna suck on it Jakey.”

You bite your lip, listening to the sounds of him stroking his wet cock thinking about you.

“Fuck yourself with it y/n. Just slide it right in.”

You bring the dildo down to your entrance, running it up and down to gather up slick. You nudge the head in, moving it in circles before your body opens up to let it inside. When it pops in, you gasp suddenly before sighing out a long moan. 

You push it in slowly. Taking it inch by inch as it stretches you out.

“I bet it doesn't make you feel as full as I do. I wish it was me who could fuck you in two right now. I wanna fucking break you.” he groans low and long, his hand working rapidly.

You pick up speed, bottoming out the toy and fucking yourself along to the rhythm of his movements. You feel the pleasure start to build up and soon small moans and pants escape you.

“Fuck yourself harder for me, cupcake” he spits the name out like a curse, gaining speed as he pulls himself closer along from the sound of your pathetic moans.

You push the toy in fast, faster, and then as fast and deep as it can go. You feel your leg begin to shake as you teeter on the edge.

“Touch your clit too. You think you can do that? Think you can fuck yourself and stroke that pink little clit all at the same time?”

You moan as your thumb swipes over your aching clit with every thrust of your hand. You feel yourself so close- white hot with tension.

“Keep talking Jake. Please” you cry.

“You wanna hear my voice? Does it make you so fucking wet. I can feel how you taste. If I close my eyes and imagine. You’re so sweet y/n, that’s why you're my little cupcake. And when I get back home, I’m not letting you out of my sight. I’m just gonna fuck you over and over again until I get bored, and maybe then, I’ll have you touch yourself, just like this, right in front of me while I just watch.”

You gasp and moan shakily as your hips twitch and shake. You’re so close that if you just-

“Cum.”

It explodes inside you. Your stomach tightens and contracts, legs shaking as you chant his name over and over again in a hushed whisper. You curl your toes and your mouth falls open as your hand thrusts the dildo harder and harder into your poor, convulsing pussy. 

You hear a loud grunt followed by a sigh and little shudders that make you worry that he’ll be heard. He lets out a long exhale and you picture his cum dripping down the side of his knuckles.

Your own breath starts to even out as you come down. Your legs finally settle themselves over the sheets.

You lay your head back, resting it as a huge smile spreads across your face.

“That was amazing Jake. I love you so much.”

You pause for a second before being met with the soft sound of snoring. Your heart swells as you pull the phone away from your ear to look at his profile picture. Poor baby probably had the longest day of his life but still made time to talk to you. 

You rest the phone gently on the bed while you go to the bathroom to clean up. When you come back, you place the phone on your nightstand and allow yourself to fall asleep to the sound of Jake’s breathing. 

.

.

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[zeel-zzz]

To be Barty Crouch Jr.

[this a short 'character study' of Barty in a fic i'm writing]

HUMAN BARTY | ROSEKILLER| WC : 514 cw; implied abuse, mention death, religious imagery

"Barty and his need to worship"

He has sinned and been forgiven time and time again.

He has seen the moon and the stars and the heavens above.

He has lived and he has died.

His father fears that something inside him has changed, has twisted when he returned from death.

“You are sick, broken, possessed. You hold his face, you hold his name, but know this, you demonic spawn, you are not my son, you will never be my son for he is dead and with the Saints.”

Except he wasn't dead, he was here standing in front of his father watching him burn his favorite toys and books.

He was ten.

He was twenty when he met a real demonic creature.

He was twenty when he fell in love with the demonic creature.

He was twenty when he wanted to become one as well.

Life and death, blood and flesh. It all lost meaning.

It all became the same. 

Death was just an extension of life that no one could escape, not unless you were one of those demonic creatures his father feared so much.

Feeding upon the living to ensure their strength.

He grew to love the idea. Being needed to continue living. Having purpose to the very thing his father despised. 

Feeling wanted, feeling desired and loved by the very things he should want nothing to do with.

“Darling, you feed me so well. I don't think anyone could compare to you. You're sweet but never overwhelmingly so. Absolutely perfect for me.”

That's what he loved, being perfect, being adored for who he was without remorse.

Fuck his father, fuck the Saints he worshiped.

This creature before him. The one who he would go to his knees for is the only one he would ever go to worship.

The Saints took his life and returned it just as quickly, but they took all his happiness and no amount of repentance or prayer would return things to how they once were.

But here, being pressed against a wall with teeth at his shoulder and nails digging into his arm, he could finally find acceptance and love for a being of greater power.

His blood, his life, all for the taking. Layed out as an offering to the one who picked him up from the ground and showed him ecstasy with nothing more than his mouth.

He has sinned and he has been forgiven by the Saints his father worships and adores. He has spit at their altar, and defaced their image. Fucked against walls of their most sacred temples just to spite them.  

Fuck them all. Nothing could compare to him. An altar in his name. Marble statues in his image, never catching his true perfection. No hands would be able to create him in a perfect replica.

Evan Rosier, the only thing worth worshiping in this  forsaken city. On his knees, with his mouth, with his body as an offering. 

“With blood as sweet as nectar, how could I ever ask for more than that.”

He would do anything to continue worshiping this creature of sin. 

SIRIUS | REMUS | REGULUS | JAMES | EVAN