#I'm also going to give a mention to the reblog tags people have been adding to my artwork and how much they've been making me smile | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

silenzahra · 2 months

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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 the story 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 story. It's long though, so make sure to grab a snack and/or a drink. Of course, likes, comments and reblogs are always more than welcome, as well as kudos on AO3! 💖

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! 🥰

@vulpixfairy1985 @bberetd @peaches2217 @ask-rosalina-and-her-family @aqua-peri

@kimasousparky @megamagimugi @jellyfishinc @pepperycar @keakruiser

@teegeeteegee @supergay-64 @kelbreyworshipper @dragon-fly34 @artycomicfangirl

(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.

#green orange and a bit of purple #zahra's writing #zahra's fics #Luaisy #luaisy story #luaisy fanfic #Luaisy first date #Luaisy first kiss #luigi x daisy #luigi #princess daisy #super mario #super mario bros #super mario fanfic #first kiss fic #first date fic #organizing my new blog #silenzahra

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scoonsaliciousupdates · 5 months

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Unwanted: Chapter 23, Undressed - Pt. 6

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of sex, human trafficking.

Word Count: 455

Previously On...: You made a Bad Decision :(

A/N: You know what, I didn't realize how short these parts were! Let's get into Chapter 24 today, too, shall we?!

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43

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“And where the hell have you been?” Sam asked when you eventually walked back into the apartment. “I’ve been calling you for hours!”

“Out,” you said simply, putting your bag down on the side table.

Sam approached you, leaning in close to study your face. “Are you drunk?!” he asked.

“What are you, my mother?” you scoffed as you moved past him and into the kitchen. You were still drunk, so you needed to pour yourself a glass of water to mitigate the hangover you’d no doubt have in the morning.

“Pocket,” Sam followed you and leaned on the counter as you sat on one of the kitchen island stools, “we’re on assignment. You can’t go off for hours without telling me to get plastered!”

He was right, you knew that, but your pride, and the alcohol, wasn’t going to let you admit it. “Forgive me for taking a few hours off,” you snapped back at him. “Shaking my ass for intel is exhausting, and I deserved a break.”

“Don’t pretend this is because you wanted a ‘break,’” Sam said. “You freaked out because of Bucky and you ran off to spiral.” His voice softened. “But you can’t do that, Baby Girl. Not right now. Not when women are counting on us.”

Oof. That got you where it hurts. “Did you relay the info I gave you?” you asked him, hoping to avoid any further discussion of your transgressions. If he found out you’d also gone out for a fuck with a complete stranger, he’d be livid.

“Yeah,” Sam said, and you were grateful he seemed willing to let it go, as well. “They think it’s a promising lead, and they’re gonna have… some people look into it.”

Some people. Safe words for Barnes and Carthage, no doubt, given they had the most experience with Hydra.

“You did good, Baby Girl,” Sam added.

You nodded, suddenly exhausted. You stood from your stool and picked up your glass of water. “I’m gonna go to bed. Night, Sam.”

You were almost out of the room when Sam called your name. You turned to look at him. “I don’t know if I should be telling you this or not, but, you should know– he was yelling at her to leave him alone, says she won’t stop following him around the Tower. He keeps tryin’ to avoid her, doesn’t want her near him, but she keeps poppin’ up like a bad penny.”

You didn’t need to ask who he was talking about.

“You’re right,” you said, turning to walk away again, and feeling utterly drained. “You shouldn’t have told me. It’s too little, too late now, and he only has himself to blame for it. I’m tired of caring.”

<- Previous Part / Next Chapter ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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canonkiller · 6 months

Note

Hi, I'm trying to do art commissions, but no one has commissioned me yet. Do you have any advice for attracting customers?

I wrote a lot of words for you in hopes that at least some of it will be helpful, so I'm putting the bulk of this answer below a read more to save people the scrolling. The quick and easy two tips that I find people forget to do the most are:

Is your art easy to find? Having a pinned post with a tag for your art, a link in your bio, or an art-focused / reblog-light blog (like this one!) make it so that people know you draw, and knowing you've been posting art for a while makes you less likely to be a scammer.

Is your commission info easy to find? People can't buy things that they don't know you're selling; clear and accessible links to your prices and terms are important.

Now for the real bulky meat of advice giving, where I say a lot of words that may or may not be relevant:

I have a lot of advice, but I do want to say before getting into it:

A lot of selling art (especially in a non-industry setting, like with social media commissions) is luck.

There is no one size fits all method for selling art, and it's best to go with what feels right to you (I'll go more into this later)

Tips for selling are not necessarily tips for creating, and there will be advice in here that I don't apply to myself. Determining what you do and do not implement is something you should decide for yourself and your work flow.

Your art not selling doesn't mean nobody cares about it.

Personally I think the idea of intentionally curating a single subject demographic of Customer and Consumer for your work is limiting and doomed to burnout in a non-industry space. I will also touch more on this later.

Now for the rest of it in varying orders:

✨ Attracting Customers

This one is going first because you mentioned it specifically. It is kind of vague though, by nature of the term, so what I advise doing is specifying.

When you are thinking of a customer, are you trying to appeal to:

People who will buy pre-made art products? (Pins, stickers, prints, etc)

People who will buy custom work? (Commissions for specific subject matter)

People who will buy art resources you've created? (Fonts, bases, texture packs, 3d models etc)

There's also frequency: a repeat customer of custom art will usually be appealed to more by a wide range of options (like illustrations), while you might get more single-purchase customers if you only offer a limited range of options (like only icons).

Demographics also, of course, play a substantial role in just custom art commissions; furries get lauded as high spenders, but they're also a huge community that is focused around OCs, so by statistics alone they will have more people with spending money and will be frequent customers of people drawing OCs. A narrower audience means fewer people, but often the spread of the people within that audience is the same - and at the end of the day, selling an art piece only requires one other person, it's just a matter of happening to find them.

The follow up question is of course the finding: the average artist in fandom spaces selling commissions does not have the platform or budget for an ad campaign. This, however, is also its own category:

✨ Posting Online

Right out the gate: anyone who has told you that just drawing x thing is the way to get easy money is wrong.

"If you draw more fan art, you'll -" wrong.

"Nobody cares about that, you should be drawing this instead -" wrong.

"if you need to sell fast, just sell porn -" wrong. And also re-evaluate your perceived lack of quality or value about the subject.

The things you will be able to create easily and consistently will be the things YOU, SPECIFICALLY, like to create. It is also entirely impossible that you are the only person on earth to have ever liked those things, which means that if you create them, there are people out there who will enjoy them.

It feels itchy to be like "and those people are Potential Customers", but it is true; your work will resonate with people. They will want you to create it. It is vitally important to your own well being that the things you create, that you want others to enjoy, are things you enjoy as well.

(This is also why the "just draw porn" joking advice that gets tossed around is particularly fucked up. You as the artist should not feel forced into drawing things you aren't comfortable with, and the vast majority of customers for explicit content also don't want the people making it to feel forced into doing so. It's basic consent. I have strong feelings about this.)

If you are creating things and putting them out into the world, they will find an audience. That audience may be one singular person! The number does not matter, because that's still a person who - again, sucks to frame ig this way - has the potential to buy things from you.

If you're constantly chasing a bigger follower count, more interactions, etc etc for the future, it can genuinely be pretty taxing on the people who want to support you in the present. When you enjoy someone's work, and want to support them, being told constantly that that support is not good enough is frustrating. Trying to follow your work should not lead to seeing more "likes are WORTHLESS and NOBODY reblogs my things" posts than it does art. You are a person making things to share with other people, and you have to remember it or you will burn yourself out into a desiccated husk.

TL:DR consistency is key and the easiest way to be consistent is to just draw whatever the fuck you live drawing in whatever ways you want to draw it, and then slap it on the internet somewhere and Keep Doing That

✨ The Actual Commission Information

this one is just factual really. A lot of artists have really shitty commission sheet layouts, because advertising graphic design and illustrative art are different skill sets. That's fine. You don't have to remake the wheel. A good commission sheet should include:

More images than text (if you can't see what the examples are when zoomed out, you have to rearrange or cut down on words)

Examples organized by price / type, and clearly labeled

Your personal favourites for examples - one really strong example piece is better than twenty tiny images of work you think is just "okay"

Contact information - having a method that works WITHOUT a social media account (email.) Is important and way easier to keep organized, imo

A SIMPLE list of strengths (the things you draw the best) and things you won't draw (common example: mechs). You do not need to list every fandom or subject matter. Limit yourself to a top five.

A clear and easy to type link for your terms of service. Carrd, and sites like it, is good for this. This will go into details about your process, what you will and won't do, permissions granted to the commissioner (like "no, you can't make an NFT with this"), your privacy policy (saying you won't sell commissioner details to third parties), and other stuff. You do not want to have all of this on your original post, because it should be thorough and you want your main post to be showcasing your work and not your legalese. Here's mine as a reference; if you have trouble writing your own, feel free to copy from it and make the necessary alterations for your work.

✨ There Was More I Was Going To Write But I Forgot

I have a different document of commission related talk here, which is also incomplete but in a different way. It's in my nature. Hopefully some combination of this and that can be useful to you. Sorry if they're not. I love you have a nice day

#not art #ask #ne0nwisp #i feel like this is a profoundly unhelpful word count but I Tried.

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jinhyun · 1 year

Text

↬part two

"then I think about summer, all the beautiful times

i watched you laughin' from the passenger's side"

pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader

genre: written series, angst, fluff, friends to lovers to exes to lovers, she fell first but he fell harder, yearning, mutual pining, non-idol au, baker!y/n, movie producer!hyunjin.

word count: 11.3k

warnings: y/n has self-sabotaging tendencies, cursing, mentions of alcohol, eventual smut, mature content, MINORS DNI!!!

tag list: open. send me an ASK to be a part of it, otherwise i might miss it. i will only be adding people who are willing to reblog the chapters and/or comment on them, because it does take time out of my day to tag everyone and likes or straight up cricket noises do nothing for me in return if i'm honest.

a/n: helloo, it's been a long time but here we are again with a new part. this turned out longer than i expected and i apologise, but i wanted to mainly show how these two got together and how it was that things started off for them, as well as how the dynamic of their friend group used to be before everything went down. in other words, and as you can see in the verse of the song i quoted, this part's gonna be more on the fluffy side (but not completely lol), so i hope you enjoy this small part of their story!

feedback is very dearly appreciated<3

You had never been a big fan of packing, but you were quite excited about the trip with your friends the next day. To be honest, you did not used to be a big fan of camping either, until that first year in college when summer came and Jeongin mentioned this one place he and his family used to go camping when he was little.

Everyone was so excited about it that you couldn't say no. Seungmin wouldn't have let you miss out on it and abandon him anyway.

And, in the end, you were glad you hadn't stayed home instead. It turned out to be a really precious bonding time for all of you, to the point that you all agreed to make it a summer vacation tradition — every single year of college, without missing a beat, all eleven of you would drive outside the city and ventour into the forest to have what you liked to call your much needed healing time.

Although the entirety of your friend group had graduated college last year, you had promised to keep making time for your yearly camping trip.

Minji hadn't been able to keep that promise that particular year, given she got an internship in the States and had left a little over a month and a half before summer started. She had promised over and over before leaving that she would most definitely make it next year, and you were all counting on that.

You were sad that she wouldn't make it, for now you would only have Hyejin to fight the potentially annoying male species you'd be hanging out with.

And there was also the fact that you thought Hyunjin wouldn't feel like going anymore. Sure, he would go, for he had promised and he loved spending time with all of you, but a part of you believed he wouldn't be the same since Minji wouldn't be there — that he wouldn't be as eager about the trip as he always was.

It was the way he hugged her and visibly didn't want to let go when you had all gone to send her off and she was about to walk through security. After witnessing that, you had convinced yourself that Hyunjin wouldn't be himself until she came back.

You had decided to give him space. You knew you'd be the same if you ever lost Seungmin, and that without being in love with him.

It would be good for you, too. Giving Hyunjin space and letting him find himself without his beloved best friend meant not seeing him for a while, and therefore, finally being able to focus on moving on from your stupid crush on him.

Only that you wanting to give him space didn't exactly mean he wanted to take that space away from you. So you knew when not even a week after Minji's departure he was calling you up to hang out.

Most of your friends would be there, minus Felix and Hyejin, who had already made plans alone, so you accepted. It had started out just like that, at least — hanging out with your group of friends, the way you always had. But now his attention was only on you, and his eyes would oh-so-naturally fix on you like it was their default target.

It didn't stop there. Hanging out with everyone else yet only focusing on you turned into making plans for just the two of you. You had been ecstatic the first time he asked you out — as friends, of course. He had a shitty day at work and wanted to go out for some coffee, but he didn't feel like being around a large group of people. You accepted in a heartbeat, so happy about getting to spend some time alone with him that you completely forgot about the whole 'getting over him' goal you had going on.

So happy to finally get the attention you wanted from him, that you didn't stop for one second to think whether he would be asking you to get some coffee with him if Minji were still here.

But it didn't matter, because one coffee date turned into two, and then two turned into three. Friendly dates turned into 'oh, maybe this is not so friendly' ones. Sunset walks turned into watching movies at either one of your places. Late night calls on the days you didn't get to see each other turned into texting all throughout the day, every day; which led to getting goodnight and good morning text messages with definitely-not-so-friendly hearts attached to them.

Just like that, Hyunjin was just as eager as every other year to go on this trip. And you? God, you couldn't wait for the day to arrive so you could spend even more time with him. You were mainly expectant of the bonfire at night — you had always loved the way the fire illuminated his factions from afar. He always managed to look extra cozy and your heart would flutter with every single glimpse. This year, though, you hoped you'd get to sit next to him, and maybe, if you were lucky enough, you'd get to share a blanket with him; as childish as it sounded.

Your daydreaming got interrupted by your phone buzzing on your night table, making you jump from your bed to pick it up and then feel your heart do a backflip when you read Hyunjin's name on the screen.

Fixing your hair as fast as you could and making sure your face looked presentable enough for him to see, you answered his video call.

"Hey, cutie" he greeted as soon as your face was visible on the screen.

You smiled timidly, feeling the heat reach your cheeks at the sound of that simple pet name. "You do realise it's midnight, don't you?"

"You answered anyway" he smirked triumphantly, earning a roll of eyes from you. "Why? Did I wake you?"

"No," you shook your head, looking down to your packed bag on your bed. "I was kinda going through everything I needed to pack, to make sure I won't forget anything".

"Well, in case you forgot to pack mosquito repellent like last year, I'm glad to inform you I've kindly packed some for you".

A small, breathy laugh escaped your mouth. "Why, thank you" you brought a dramatic hand to your chest. "Did I really traumatize you last year for that to be the first thing to come to mind when packing for me?"

"I wouldn't say traumatized…" he mumbled, looking down to what you guessed was his bag, as he unzipped it. "But you did make me so fucking worried when you came out of your tent that morning all covered in mosquito bites, so…"

Watching him show the repellent bottle to the camera, you couldn't help the throaty laugh that ran past your mouth this time, hearing him follow along the moment the sound you made reached his ears.

"You really didn't have to…"

"Did you remember to pack it this time?" he tested you.

"No, but—but," you quickly emphasized at the sight of his daring eyes. "Minnie always brings some. I was just too lazy to go up to his tent at night when I realised I hadn't asked him for it last year. I didn't think it would be that bad".

"Well, now you've got your own personal bottle of it" he pointed out, stuffing it back into his bag. "So no need to go to his tent if you forget to ask him for it again".

Too enchanted by that thoughtful act of service of his, you didn't realise you were staring until he blushed and cleared his throat.

"What?" he shyly asked.

"Huh?" you snapped out of it.

"I don't know, I… you weren't like, saying anything and—"

"Oh, no, I just…" you felt your cheeks burn once again. "Thank you. You're cute".

He laughed breathily, almost inaudibly. "I'm cute?"

"You know what I mean" you glared.

"I'd like to think you mean something else, though…"

You needed to take a deep, rather shaky, breath at that. Keeping yourself composed was not an easy thing to do when he said things like that.

"So, um… What were you calling for?"

He shrugged, letting you get away with your change of subject and lying back on his mattress. "Just wanted to talk to you".

"At midnight?" you raised an eyebrow.

"Got a problem with it?"

"Not really," you chuckled. "But we're seeing each other in a couple of hours, in case you forgot".

"Oh, I'm well aware of it," he nodded, tiredly placing an arm over his eyes. "Still wanted to talk to you before going to bed".

"Clingy" you teased.

The smile that curved up the corners of his plump lips made you wish you were there with him, lying your head on his chest and playing with his hair, instead of having to settle down for seeing him through a screen.

"It's gonna be a different trip this time around, huh?" you mumbled after a few seconds in which silence had taken over.

"Yeah…" he agreed quietly, removing his arm from his face and lying on his side. "It's gonna be weird without Minji".

You hummed in response. "I'll only have Hyejin to fight you guys now, and that's when she and Lix aren't all over each other".

"You'll have me, though" he smiled innocently.

You snorted. "Please, you'd drop me in a heartbeat to join the guys when they pick on me".

"That is so not true" he argued, squinting his eyes at you.

"I guess we'll see what happens when the time comes," you taunted him. "You think you'll still be able to have as much fun?"

"You mean without Minji?"

You nodded silently, bracing yourself for the answer you didn't want to know yet had not been able to stop yourself from asking about.

"Sure," he nodded confidently, making your heart feel at ease. "I've got you, it's gonna be just as fun".

"You think so?" you whispered.

"Of course!" he reassured you. "Let's go in the same car tomorrow, we can sit together and share earphones".

"I'm taking Changbin's car" you pointed out.

"Cool," he nodded. "I'll let him know I'm taking his too, then".

"No but, you know what that means, right?"

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Not really…"

You chuckled. "It means he'll make me go on the passenger seat so I can lead the way for him, since he always seems to miss the entrance to the camping site".

"Can't he have someone else to do it?"

"He doesn't really trust any of the guys when it comes to giving directions," you shook your head. "And I respect him for it, honestly. Last time we had Felix give out directions we nearly ended up in Busan".

He puffed his cheeks cutely, in a way that had your heart melting in a second. "Good thing Airpods are a thing then. We can still share".

"And miss Binnie's carpool?"

"You know what, if you hate me just say so".

A throaty laugh escaped your mouth at his salty remark, staring at him through the screen in such a loving way that for a second there you feared he would realise your feelings for him.

"I guess we can share Airpods" you rolled your eyes in amusement, having him happily laugh under his breath. "Don't be too surprised when I start singing along to whatever Binnie's playing on the radio, though".

"I will feel slightly neglected but I get it" he sighed overdramatically.

Covering the yawn coming out of your mouth with your hand, you sleepily stared at him on the screen. "We should go to sleep now…"

"Are you trying to get rid of me now?"

"I'm sleepy..."

"But you look so cute like that" he cooed.

"It's nearly one in the morning, Hwang Hyunjin" you tried your best to sound stern and hide your smile. "We leave at seven".

"Alright," he sighed once more, closing his eyes. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow then?"

You nodded, a small smile making its way on your face. "See you tomorrow, Hyunie".

He smiled blissfully. "See you tomorrow, cutie".

-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-♡

"Can we stop to get some food?" Seungmin asked from the backseat.

You laughed over Changbin's heavy sigh next to you. It had only been half an hour since you left Seoul, and there was still another hour to go, yet you couldn’t say you were entirely surprised over your best friend’s request.

The trip had been smooth so far, way too smooth — Changbin and Jeongin loudly singing to any song that came on the playlist being the only sense of disruption in the car. You remained silently staring out the window, lightly bopping your head to the beat of the music coming from the Airpod you were sharing with Hyunjin. It was a funny contrast, having Binnie and Innie singing at the top of their lungs to nothing but upbeat songs, while Hyunjin and you listened to slower, calmer ones and quietly stared at the passing scenery outside.

The somewhat balanced atmosphere you all had managed to create was just bound to be disrupted by your best friend at some point.

"I asked you all if you wanted to stop for food before hitting the highway and you said you wanted to have breakfast at the camping site".

Seungmin pouted, childishly sinking against his seat and crossing his arms over his chest. "I wanted to live the full camping experience, but I take it back now, I'm hungry".

"Well, too bad because I'm not stopping until we get there".

Hearing Seungmin whine behind you in what sounded more like a tantrum, you couldn't help but laugh, staring at him through the rearview mirror before your eyes unconsciously fixed on Hyunjin by the window. He was laughing over your best friend's scene too, and his eyes were already on you. You held his stare through the reflection for a moment, enjoying the sight of his smile and the sound of his giggle before you looked down in a poor attempt to calm your racing heart.

Clearing your throat, you reached down to the backpack by your feet and rummaged through it until you found the snacks you had packed that morning before heading out, precisely in case something like this happened.

Without a word, you reached your hand behind your seat, giggling to yourself when you felt the pack of cookies being snatched from your hold not even a second later.

"You're the best, I swear to God" Seungmin managed to say with his mouth already full. "You better be selling these at our coffee shop once we open it".

You chuckled. "I will".

"Wait, those are homemade?" Jeongin asked from the middle seat.

"Mhm…" you nodded, leaning slightly back when he peeked his head through your seat.

"You have more?"

"Take some from Seungm—"

"No way, they're mine" Seungmin growled.

Rolling your eyes, you leaned down to your backpack once more, defeatedly looking for another bag of cookies you had thankfully packed as well.

"These are double chocolate chips," you let Jeongin know as you handed them to him. "Please share them with Hyunjin in case he wants some".

"I do want some!" he stated from behind, having your amused eyes instinctively fix on him through the rearview mirror, right as he eagerly dug his hand into the bag.

"And what about me?" Changbin whined. "You all are lucky I care about your lives and can't just turn around and snatch them from you right now".

You chuckled, reaching your hand behind your seat, and opening your palm. "Minnie".

The sound of his name coming out of your mouth was all it took for a single cookie to be reluctantly placed on it.

"Here," you called Changbin's attention, motioning for him to open his mouth.

"Is it red velvet?" he asked, opening his mouth and taking a bite regardless, as he was ready to eat whatever it was you decided to feed him.

As soon as he tasted them, he dramatically threw his head back and hit the border of the steering wheel.

"Fuck! They're so good".

You laughed, lightheartedly shaking your head at his reaction. Not even ten seconds later, he was opening his mouth again and leaning slightly over your side for you to feed him the remaining of the cookie you had managed to get from Seungmin.

Having fed him and watching him happily munch on it, you leaned back against your seat, closing your eyes to go back to listening to Hyunjin's playlist like you had been doing before this whole cookies situation took place — only for Traitor by Olivia Rodrigo to start playing.

Almost jumping from your seat, you turned around, staring at Hyunjin in utter disbelief while your jaw comically dropped.

"You did not just do that" you accused him.

He chuckled, staring down with a proud smirk at the unlocked phone in his hands as he seemed to look for another song. His point had already been made.

"What happened?" Jeongin wondered.

"Nothing, Hyunjin's just an idiot" you replied, tauntingly squinting your eyes at Hyunjin, only for his smile to grow.

"At least I'm not a traitor" his smile turned into a cynical smirk.

"A traitor why?" Seungmin's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Who's a traitor?" Changbin joined in.

"It's nothing" Hyunjin brushed it off, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Oh, so you guys have reached the internal jokes stage now?"

"Shut up…" you felt the heat reach your face, turning around to sit properly and look ahead to the road.

Olivia’s voice stopped being heard, and it was replaced by Lauv’s, as I Like Me Better began to play. You looked down to your lap and tried to contain your smile. It had been ages since you last listened to that song, and a part of you, the delusional one that was head over heels for Hyunjin, wanted to believe he was dedicating it to you right then.

Looking out the window when you managed to conceal your blissfulness and everyone seemed to already be back in their own world, you decided to just focus on the road and stop giving too much thought to the song choice of his throughout the ride. He was using a playlist after all.

Nevertheless, you couldn’t help your mind from wandering and daydreaming all the way to the camping site, making it hard for you to focus on your duty as the designated human GPS.

You weren't sure if Changbin was right about you and Hyunjin having reached the 'internal jokes stage' yet, but you realised later that day that you had definitely reached some kind of complicity. You couldn't put your finger on when along the journey of the two of you growing closer it happened, but now your eyes would naturally lock whenever someone said anything slightly funny or even questionable. It was as if you wanted, needed, to share even the most minimal and mundane of things with each other.

And you hadn't noticed it was that obvious to everyone else until Hyejin pointed it out when you were setting up your tent later that afternoon. To say you were struggling a little bit was an understatement; it was a tent for three, and usually Minji was there to help set it up as well. You would definitely have some extra room that night.

Still, as focused on finding the correct corner of the fabric to stake it to the ground as she was, Hyejin managed to bring the topic up.

"So, what's going on with you and Hyunjin?"

"What do you mean?" you frowned, letting go of the fabric you were holding onto.

"Oh, come on, I'm not blind" she squinted her eyes. "Something definitely changed between you two".

"I mean, yeah, but…" you shrugged. “We’re just closer now, I guess”.

“I’ve seen the heart eyes, Y/N”.

“As if my heart eyes for him are anything new”.

“I meant his”.

You went silent, feeling your cheeks heat up and your hands shake. To have someone else notice it, too, only made it feel more real.

“You guys need help?” Felix interrupted before you could try and say anything back.

His arm was naturally resting over Hye’s shoulders, and although she visibly appreciated the offer, she settled for an obnoxious roll of eyes.

“We’re not damsels in danger” she playfully shoved his arm off.

Felix snorted. “Maybe not but you guys are clearly struggling here”.

“I could use some help” you admitted, getting a triumphant smile from Lix before he grabbed the fabric you had let go of a minute ago and began to stake it to the ground.

“But what about our girl talk” Hyejin pouted.

“Girl talk?” Felix looked at her with furrowed eyebrows.

She nodded, and just like that his eyes went to you — realisation hitting him in a second.

“Let me guess, you guys are talking about Hyunjin”.

You nearly choked on air. “We're not”.

"We're not?" Hyejin teased you, receiving a glare from you in a heartbeat.

“Ah, you guys can go on then" Felix nodded understandingly, with a glimpse of a smirk curving up his lips. "I already know all about it anyway".

Hyejin raised both hands up in defense when your glare was once again on her. "Don't look at me, remember he's Hyunjin's best friend after all".

Lix's smirk was now on full display. "I know things neither of you two know".

"There's not much to know, though? Right?" you awkwardly fidgeted in your place. "Hyunjin doesn't talk about me, does he?"

Felix and Hyejin exchanged an incredulous look, deciding right then to just leave it there and let you figure it out on your own. They knew you well enough to know you wouldn’t believe any of it unless you heard it directly from Hyunjin; and maybe even then you would still doubt it all.

“Anyway,” Felix shrugged, going back to his previous task. “Let’s set this shit up”.

“Language!” Hyejin reprimanded him.

You laughed at the exchange, going over to Hyejin so you could work together while Felix focused on the other corner of your tent. Even though you could feel their stares on you, you were just glad the topic seemed to be over with.

-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-♡

Turned out that setting up a tent with Felix and Hyejin was just a call to be kicked out of it as soon as it was done, so they could take a nap inside and just like that make you their third wheel. Not like you really cared, for you took a blanket and placed it under one of the trees that were farther away from everyone.

Lying down on it, you used your arms as a pillow while you looked up to the bright green leaves and the rays of sunshine peeking through them. You truly loved this camping site. It was quiet, with enough space for your entire group and the right amount of distance from other campers in the area.

The grass was green and abundant, the trees provided enough shadow for you not to go mad over how hot the summer weather was, and there was a lake only a five-minute walk from there. You would probably go there a little before the sun set; everyone seemed to be too immersed in their own activities to propose a walk to the lake anytime soon.

Seungmin and Jeongin were still setting up their tent, as they had been too busy whining about having to set it up before to actually do it. Chan, Han and Changbin were drinking and chatting the afternoon away, after having managed to clean up and put everything from your lunch away, since they had been chosen to be on cleaning up duty by a very fair game of rock, paper, scissors. Minho was lying on a blanket a few meters from you, scrolling through his phone. Felix and Hyejin were napping; and Hyunjin… you actually had no idea where Hyunjin was.

“Wanna go to the lake?”

As if reading your thoughts, there he was, kneeling on the edge of your blanket as he patiently waited for your answer.

You tilted your head up to look at him, still a bit stunned over both his timing and his suggestion. Nevertheless, you nodded, not having to think twice before you sat up.

“Are the others coming?”

“Nah,” he shrugged, standing up and giving you a hand to help you up as well. “They said they’re going later”.

“Shouldn’t we wait for them then?” you quietly asked.

Hyunjin brought a dramatic hand up to his chest. “If you don’t wanna be alone with me just say so”.

You scoffed, acting just as offended as he was. “That’s not what I said at all?!”

“Then?” he smiled, tilting his head in the lake’s direction.

Rolling your eyes while the biggest of smiles took over your face, you followed him. He knew the way to the lake by heart, you realised, as he seemed to avoid branches you wouldn’t have noticed were there if it weren’t for him dodging them before you. Although maybe it just had to do with the fact that you were too focused on him to pay attention to your surroundings.

After five minutes in which thankfully you made it out intact, you finally reached your destination. You smiled at the view of the crystalline water and the strong reflection of the sun on it, which you had to look away from in order not to be blinded. It looked the same as every other year, and a part of you was happy it remained the same throughout the time.

“Where are you going?” Hyunjin asked, eyebrows furrowing in confusion when you started walking towards the water.

“To lie down?” you answered, in what had seemed like more of a question.

“Not here” he shook his head.

“Why not?”

“Minho and Changbin are fishing here later”.

“So?”

“So, you know how loud those two are when they get frustrated” he reminded you, walking over to you and taking your hand so he could drag you with him. “I came here to recharge”.

Too stunned over the unexpected feel of his strong yet soft hand holding yours, you didn’t even object. You simply let him take you whenever it was he wanted to take you to — heart eyes stuck to the back of his head as he led the way.

“Recharge?” you mocked him regardless.

"Yeah?" he said, as if it was obvious. "Don't you need time to be alone and recharge after being with too many people for too long?"

"It's not even dinner time yet".

"And I'm already drained".

You chuckled at his tiresome remark, but decided to just leave it at that when you reached a bunch of rocks that blocked the way.

“Where exactly are we going?” you wondered, confusedly letting go of his hand when he began to climb them.

"Come here" he called, reaching his hand out for you.

“You want to lay down on top of these rocks?” you questioned, taking his hand nonetheless and allowing him to help you up. “Like, the view might be better, but I’m pretty sure lying down on sand is way better than lying down on a bunch of hard as hell rocks”.

“Oh, hush,” he amusedly shut you up, placing a gentle hand to your back after having let you go first so he could make sure you wouldn’t slip —and that he would catch you in case you did—. “You just keep climbing up and shut that pretty mouth of yours”.

You shut your mouth; not because he told you to, but because his words sounded lovely —although taunting— enough to bring heat to your cheeks and make you forget how to speak altogether.

He could tell the way you were feeling, you realised when you heard a breathy laugh escape his mouth. He was enjoying it too much, but it was fair, considering he wanted to have that kind of effect on you.

Thankfully, the climb up the rocks wasn’t that high, otherwise the tension taking over while his hand remained on your back and his heavy breathing would faintly hit your shoulder every other second, might’ve become too overwhelming for you to survive.

As soon as you reached the top and took a seat to look around, you were confused. You weren’t sure exactly where it was that he wanted you to go to next or even where to look at once up there, so you just turned around to him with knitted eyebrows as he finished climbing up and took a seat next to you. However, after taking what felt like five seconds to catch his breath, he stood up.

“Okay, now let’s go down” he offered his hand once more to help you up.

“What? Like, to the same place we just came up from?”

He chuckled, amusedly shaking his head before he leaned down to grab your upper arm and help you up. “Will you just trust me on this?”

“I mean, you could be taking me to my deathbed right now and I wouldn’t even know”.

He rolled his eyes, carefully guiding you over to the other end of the rocks, so you could begin your two minutes journey down. “Everyone knows you’re with me right now, wouldn’t be really smart for me to murder you”.

“Reassuring” you smiled cynically, earning a throaty laugh from him and a light —actually reassuring— squeeze from his hand.

Without another word, you let him help you on your way down. It was cute how focused he was on making sure you wouldn’t have trouble with it and wouldn’t get hurt, to the point he tripped at one point; thankfully only right before you reached the safety of the ground, so it didn’t really matter.

"What even is this place?" you breathily let out, turning around to finally take a look at your surroundings.

It was only then that you realised what he had meant by ‘alone’ and ‘recharging’. The place he had taken you to seemed to be another shore within the same lake; a much smaller one, which could comfortably fit around five or six people at most.

The rocks formed some kind of fence around a few meters of the lake, which was tall enough to keep people from seeing what was on the other side, and which made most of them —you included— believe that was all there was to it: Just a bunch of rocks.

Only the curious ones who were willing to climb said bunch of rocks for no apparent reason, like Hyunjin, were privileged enough to discover such a gemstone.

"I don't even know, to be honest" Hyunjin laughed, walking up to the spot close to the water where one of the rocks blocked the sun and provided some shadow. "Found it the first time we came here. Minji and I were taking a walk and I felt like climbing all the way up the rocks and came across this place. I don't think anyone knows about it".

"Well, I surely didn't" you confirmed, looking around in awe. It almost felt cozy, like a small fort you would build as a child. "You and Minji did a pretty good job at keeping it from us".

"Oh, Minji doesn't know about it".

You stopped in your tracks, almost not believing your ears. "She… she doesn't?"

"Nope," he shrugged, sitting down on the sand and patting the spot next to him for you to do the same.

When you hesitated, visibly having a hard time believing him, he sighed.

"Why'd you even believe I told her?"

"I mean… Wasn’t she with you?” you questioned, finally sitting down next to him.

He shook his head no. “She didn’t want to climb up with me. I mean, she was wearing a dress, so I guess it’s understandable” a chuckle abandoned his lips, and a bittersweet smile crept up in yours over the fact that he even remembered what she was wearing on the first day you ever came here years ago. “But yeah, I saw this place from all the way up and just kept it to myself. I could use some peace of mind during these trips”.

“You say it like we’re chaotic as hell” you laughed.

“Aren’t you?” he taunted.

You playfully shoved him away. “You should really include yourself in that sentence, Hwang Hyunjin”.

“Nah, I don’t think I belong there” he denied, having a hard time holding his smile. “Which is why I kept this place all to myself this far”.

You bit your lip, concealing a smile not to show how flattered you were to be the first and only person he had ever shared this place with — for not only had he told you about it, but he had taken it upon himself to pull you away from your group of friends and take you all the way here with him.

“Minji would be so mad if she ever found out you kept this from her…”

Hyunjin shrugged, resting his head on yours and making goosebumps form on your skin. “I don’t have to share everything with her”.

“She’s your best friend, though” you pointed out.

“So?” he asked, sitting up. “Do you share everything with Seungmin?”

You stayed quiet. He had a point. You did mainly share everything with him, from your achievements to your failures, and from your happiness to your sadness. But there were still a few things you kept to yourself, like the way you had felt about Hyunjin all along. Yes, he knew you had a bit of a crush on him, and he also knew you had grown closer since Minji left, but your actual feelings for the guy next to you, he had no idea about.

Your feelings for Hyunjin were something you had decided to keep to yourself and deal with on your own. There was too much at stake, and you wanted to believe you’d have enough control over the situation in case things went south. As long as you didn’t tell anyone, even if it was obvious in their eyes, you liked to believe you would be able to just forget about it all at the snap of your fingers.

Hyunjin nodded to himself at your silence — unaware of what was going through your mind yet knowing that just like that he had proven his point.

“Besides, she’s a blabbermouth. She would’ve told everyone else by now”.

You snorted, looking down for a moment to hold your laughter and missing the way his eyes lit up at the sight of you. "I'm telling her you called her that".

"Ugh, don't tell me I brought a snitch to my precious secret spot" he whined, dramatically resting his head on your shoulder. "Is that all, though?"

"Hm?"

"I was supposed to tell her because she's my best friend?"

“No, but…” you stayed quiet for a moment, pondering whether you should say what was at the tip of your tongue or not. "It's just…"

"What is it?" he straightened up, furrowing his eyebrows as he waited for your answer.

"This is such a stereotypical making out spot".

He snorted, disbelief written all over his face. "What?"

"Yeah, like, think of all the couples that have found this place at some point and used it to do their thing".

"Ew," he cringed, glaring at you right after. "You did not just ruin my favourite spot for me".

"I'm just saying," you laughed, playfully shoving away the accusatory finger of his that was pointing at you. "This is like, the perfect making out spot to bring the person you have feelings for".

"I brought you, didn't I?"

Your cheeks were hit by a rush of heat instantly, and not even lowering your head helped you hide from him what his words had done to you.

"Stop…" you lightly shoved him away with your shoulder. "I guess it caught me off guard that you didn't bring her here at some point since you've always been in love with her".

"In love with her?" He looked incredulous; you just nodded. "I'm not, though?"

"Hyunjin…" you murmured, almost begging for him not try and fool you.

"I haven't always been in love with her…" he mumbled, looking down for a second before his eyes locked with yours. "Definitely am not in love with her anymore".

You smiled bittersweetly. "Right".

"I'm not, Y/N" he reassured you.

"Since when?" you wondered.

He said nothing — simply staring into your eyes was enough for you to have your answer.

Whatever was going on between the two of you was unspoken, recent, and therefore he couldn't give you a proper answer without having it turn out as a confession and risking scaring you away.

He wasn't confident enough to verbally confess the feelings he had caught for you this past month yet, but the sincerity in his eyes had managed to give you the answer you were looking for.

Since she left.

Since you and him grew closer together and something changed in the way he saw you.

"Is a month or so really enough to get over your best friend?" you mumbled.

"It's not like I was head over heels in love with her" he mindlessly played with the sand under his hands. "It was just… a little crush".

You laughed under your breath, shaking your head rather weakly as you laid your back on the sand — mentally scolding yourself for not having brought your blanket with you to lie down on.

A little crush. You should know about it.

You were sure just a little crush wouldn't make him look at her the way he did, and it most definitely wouldn't have him unconsciously call her the most beautiful woman his eyes had ever seen.

But you were done arguing with him. In the end, it changed nothing — he did feel some type of way for her before she left; and even after she left, up until you had come up to change that now, apparently.

Besides, no matter how hard you tried to fight it, a part of you believed him. He looked at you different now. He acted different around you. And although you tried not to fall for it, deep down you knew it was already a lost battle.

Not knowing what to say nor what to feel about his advances, you closed your eyes. You could feel him staring at you for a while, yet you were too shy to acknowledge it, until he finally laid down next to you.

"Are we napping now?" Hyunjin asked, changing the topic after getting the hint about you no longer wanting to talk about the whole feelings thing.

"You said you wanted to come here to recharge, didn't you?" you smiled.

Although your eyes remained closed, you felt him smile brightly next to you. "And napping is your way of recharging?"

"Isn't it yours?"

"I just wanted to come here and spend some time with you, if I'm honest".

At that, you opened your eyes. Much to your surprise, his dark brown ones were already focused on you.

"Thank you…" you smiled sweetly.

He looked confused. "What for?"

"For trusting me with your precious secret spot" your choice of words had him rolling his eyes. "I won't tell anyone about it, I promise".

Hyunjin smiled, no longer being able to hold himself back and throwing an arm around your shoulders. You didn't fight back when he pulled you to his chest, if anything, you made yourself comfortable on it.

"In case it wasn't clear, even if you did tell someone, because I can’t really trust you with Seungmin,” his statement earned an incredulous scoff from you. “You're not allowed to come here with anyone else but me".

You chuckled, shaking your head and closing your eyes once more as you relaxed under his touch. "Would never even dream to betray you like that".

-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-♡

"What took you guys so long?" Chan asked as soon as you and Hyunjin arrived back.

The sun had already set a couple of minutes ago, and you were met with an already lit up bonfire while all your friends sat down around it.

You didn't even have the chance to play your late arrival off by silently sitting down until someone noticed you had finally made it back, for all their eyes were fixed on you since the second you reached your camping spot. Not even the few branches you had collected on your way back, to make it seem like you had wandered off together with the intention to collect some for the bonfire, would help you out of this situation.

Having everyone silently questioning you right then, you came to the conclusion that maybe taking a nap wasn't the brightest of your ideas — not when you were a proper five minute walk from your camping spot and hadn't set up an alarm to wake you up from the dream you were having in the arms of the person your heart felt most at peace with.

Hyunjin shrugged, refraining from giving them an actual answer as he nudged you to walk over to them and throw the thin pieces of wood you had collected into the fire, later taking a seat next to each other by it.

"You know what's funny?" Changbin spoke up next to you, with a hint of a smirk already showing on his face. "I'm pretty sure I saw them walking towards the lake, but when Minho and I got there later they were nowhere to be seen".

Once again, all eyes were on you. This time, though, you managed to see some dropped jaws.

"Did you guys get lost in the woods or something?" Han teased, rapidly moving his eyebrows up and down.

"I'm watching you, Hwang" Seungmin glared at him from the other side of the bonfire, earning a laugh from all of you.

Hyunjin raised both hands up, pleading innocence. "I did nothing".

"Did Y/N do something then?" Changbin teased.

You rolled your eyes, pressing a finger to your mouth "Quiet".

"Is that a yes?"

"Oh, my God" you whined, covering your face with both hands in embarrassment.

“Okay, okay. Leave the lovebirds alone” Hyejin came to your rescue — kind of.

“Have you guys had dinner yet?” you tried to change the subject.

“Nice save” Minho saluted you. “But no, we wanted to hang out here for a bit before. It got pretty cold”.

You nodded, silently. As if on cue, a light, cold breeze hit your body, making you hug yourself instinctively before you leaned closer to the fire and reached your hands out in hopes to get warmer.

Your eyes snapped back towards Hyunjin when you felt him leave your side, watching him go to the tent he was sharing with Lix and get something you could not quite tell apart from the distance, given how dark it was over there. When he got close enough to the bonfire again for you to see what he was holding, however, you smiled.

Before the words ‘thank you’ could even leave your mouth, he was placing a blanket over your shoulders and sitting down next to you.

“Anyone else?” Hyunjin asked, holding out a spare blanket he had brought just in case.

“Me!” Hyejin raised her hand from three seats away, reaching for the blanket Hyunjin was now offering her and then throwing it around her body — in the matter of just one second managing to look like a burrito.

“Gotta step up your game, Felix” Han called him out, shaking his head in feigned disappointment.

“Fuck off” he glared at him, only for his girlfriend to laugh next to him and pull him into her embrace.

Felix smiled in adoration, resting his head on Hyejin’s while he made himself cozy under the blanket she had just shared with him.

“I just got called single in like five different languages” Han sulked.

You laughed at the scene playing in front of you. Well, mainly at Han and his antics, for you could only smile and stare in awe at the lovely couple cuddling right there. They were so happy. They had always been happy together, always so unproblematic, and you could only wish to ever be part of a relationship like that.

You didn’t want that with just anyone, though, and the fact that the person you wanted it with was sitting right next to you did not help your case at all.

It was tough to be craving that much intimacy with someone who was right there, yet things weren’t clear enough between the two of you for you to just go for it.

You wanted to be able to do with Hyunijn what Hyejin had just done with Felix. You wanted to just rest your head on his shoulder and pull him into your embrace. You wanted to be close to him in every way possible, feeling his calm breathing next to you as you enjoyed the sight and warmth of the fire.

And maybe you were overthinking way too much, for sharing a blanket while camping was not that deep and it didn’t precisely have to mean anything, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to offer it to him, because, to you, it was that deep and it did mean something.

Silently staring at him as he had by now joined the new conversation you were not paying attention to, you felt your heart melt at the side view of his bright smile.

You didn't know how many minutes had gone by, but at one point you felt him shiver, and then lean towards the fire just like you had done before, as he looked for the warmth of it.

Looking down to the fluffy fabric hugging your body, you felt guilty to have taken his blanket when he clearly needed it too. You knew it was the chance you had been looking for to offer him to share it and that way cuddle him as platonically as you could, but after giving it a second thought you came to terms with the fact that you didn’t have enough courage to do so. Instead, you offered him the whole blanket.

“Huh?” Hyunjin questioned, taken aback when you took it off and handed it to him.

“You’re cold” you stated the obvious, motioning for him to take it.

“So are you” he pointed out.

“Yeah, but it’s your blanket”.

Hyunjin stayed silent for a couple of seconds, eyes going from you to the blanket in your hands and so on. Then, as if a lightbulb had just been lit up above his head, he smiled.

Taking the blanket from your hands, he threw it over your backs, making sure you’d hold onto the other end before he made himself cozier next to you.

“We can share”.

You bit your lip, lowering your head not to show the effect his actions had once more had on you. How could he make it look so simple? Just throw a blanket over your bodies, pull you closer and then say that you could share, like it was nothing?

A part of you was worried he would feel your heartbeat racing, even though your arm was the one leaning against him and not your chest. It was just beating that hard, and you grew even shyer when your eyes locked with Seungmin’s. Somehow, you felt like one look at you and Hyunjin snuggling up —if you could call it that— was all it took for him to figure everything out.

The crush you had told him about months ago, only then was confirmed right in front of his eyes not to only be one simple crush. And most definitely not a one sided one, like you had claimed it was back then.

“Something wrong?” Hyunjin asked quietly, leaning in towards your ear for only you to hear.

You shook your head no, smiling softly before turning your head to him. “Everything’s fine”.

Perfect, actually.

Hyunjin nodded, moving closer to you and hesitatingly bringing his hand up to hover your back. “Is it okay if I…”

Catching on with his intentions when he lightly tapped your back, you hummed in affirmation; tensing up for a second over the unknown feel of his hand on your waist, before you relaxed under his gentle, loving touch. You were nervous, of course, but it would've been odd for you not to ultimately feel at ease when his thumb began to draw small circles on the curve of your waist.

Maybe you got too carried away, or maybe you simply stopped worrying too much, but you found yourself resting your head on his shoulder — not even having time to doubt your own actions before his head was resting on yours.

As cliché as it was, you wished that moment would last forever. It felt so natural, like your head belonged on his shoulder and his hand belonged on your waist. Like you belonged together.

Your friends had silently agreed on not teasing you anymore; just carrying on with the conversation as if seeing you together like that was by now a daily occurrence.

Hyunjin pulled you closer, and with his lips faintly brushing the crown of your head, you began to doze off.

His phone buzzing in his pocket managed to stop you from falling asleep completely. However, he, too, was so immersed in the comfort your touch and warmth brought him, that he didn't even feel it moving directly against his body.

"Your phone" you quietly brought it to his attention.

"What?"

"Your phone's buzzing" you clarified, lightly pressing your legs to his so he could take a hint.

"Oh, right" he finally got it, earning a small laugh from you as he reached into his pocket and took his phone out. "It's Minji".

You couldn't help it, but your body tensed up.

"Minji?" Han asked quite eagerly.

"Isn't it like six A.M. over there?" Hyejin's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Hyunjin shrugged. "She's Facetiming, hold on".

Watching him sit up straight and fix his hair right before taking the call, you moved slightly away from him, putting some distance in between the two of you. That small action of yours didn't go unnoticed by Hyunjin, but he decided to say nothing. It must've been nothing after all, right?

"Hey!" He greeted her cheerfully as soon as her face was on the screen.

"Hello~" Minji answered rather cutely. Your stomach twisted. "How's everyone?"

"Everyone's okay, they're all here, actually" Hyunjin let her know.

That simple statement was all it took for your seats to be taken over by all your friends — all ten of you trying your best to fit on the small screen that Hyunjin was struggling to keep as far as possible from his face, so that everyone could have a look.

Staring at your friend through the screen, you could tell she was just waking up. She was at the other side of the world, after all. But even then, when her hair was still messy and her face was completely bare, she managed to look as endearing as ever.

She looked happy. Tired, of course, given what time it was over there, but happy nonetheless. That same welcoming smile you knew so well was still intact, even while she was being attacked with questions from the entire friend group.

You tried your best not to look at Hyunjin all throughout the conversation. You knew it wouldn't do you any good to see him looking at her — not when you already knew the oh-so-special way he did. That one look in his eyes he only had when it came to her.

You also tried your best not to think of how usual these video calls were. They were best friends, for fucks sake, and they were half a world apart from each other on top of that. If it were you and Seungmin, you knew you'd be calling on a daily basis.

But Hyunjin and Minji were different. And the selfish part of you didn't want to think he was Facetiming her every single day when that seemed to be your thing now.

As stupid as you knew it was, you couldn't stop your head from hurting right then; all because of your own intrusive thoughts.

"We miss you!" Han shouted.

"Yeah, you should call the whole group more often" Chan accused her.

"Oh my God, you should show us around the filming set sometime" Felix excitedly requested.

"Have you met any celebrities?" Jeongin asked.

And the fact that everyone was talking so loudly and eagerly to the phone, as if its microphone wasn't working or something, was definitely not helping your abrupt headache.

"One by one, people. Please" she joked. "I miss you all so much and I will get to you in a minute, but I called Jinnie, so…"

"She said priorities," Minho joked with a roll of eyes. "Let's leave before our dignity hits rock bottom, guys".

Chuckling at his salty remark and watching everyone stand up so they could either go back to their seats or straight up go somewhere else after the bonfire bonding had been interrupted, you hesitated for a moment. Ultimately, however, you stood up too — not being able to decipher the look Hyunjin gave you when you were no longer sitting next to him, and your end of the blanket remained unattended.

Without much thought, you went to the place that felt the most familiar and, therefore, the most comfortable — Seungmin. He was back on his previous seat, mindlessly scrolling through his Twitter feed when you took a seat beside him.

He didn't even budge when you placed your head on his shoulder, silently reading whatever Tweet he decided to stop at.

"You should've brought the blanket" he said plainly when a breeze of cold air hit your bodies, eyes not leaving his phone. "It's cold".

You snorted. "It's Hyunie's blanket. You can go get another one to your tent if you're that cold".

"Just go ask your boyfriend for it, he's giving it to you in a heartbeat".

Your jaw dropped at his nonchalant statement, not minding holding back when you pushed him with both palms and almost made him fall off his chair.

"You're a menace" he accused you, holding onto your upper arm for dear life.

"You started it" you defended yourself.

"Just go get a blanket!" He motioned towards his tent.

"It's your tent, you go".

"Fine! But I swear to God I won't be shar—"

"Um…" Hyunjin's low voice brought your attention to him.

He was awkwardly standing in front of you, folded blanket in his hands while his eyes travelled from you to Seungmin, almost as if pondering his next move.

In the end, they focused on Seungmin.

"You think you can, um…" he nervously cleared his throat. "Leave us to it for a bit?"

Your heart skipped a beat, and your eyes fixed on Seungmin, who was already squinting his eyes in your direction.

The things he had to do for you and the sake of your romantic life.

Standing up without another word and with a quick glance to Hyunjin, he went over to Jeongin and Chan, who were busy chugging two of the beer cans you had no idea were there to begin with. Next to them was Hyejin, who was now holding Hyunjin’s phone as you supposed she was the next to talk to Minji one-on-one.

You frowned. You would’ve thought Minji’s conversation with Hyunjin would go on for ten minutes at least. Had it only been two minutes? Three at most?

Hyunjin took a seat next to you, placing the blanket around your body. His hands remained on your shoulders, tenderly massaging them before he rested his head on yours. You pouted, leaning into his body and burying your face on the crook of this neck.

"Why'd you leave?" he asked.

You shrugged, unintentionally tickling his neck and making goosebumps show up on his skin.

"Hm?" he pushed it, gently nudging you.

"Didn't wanna interrupt" you replied quietly.

"Interrupt?"

"Yeah, like… Minji called you, so…"

"She just wanted to tell me about what happened at the studio today and the instructions the director was giving, you know, to give me some tips since I aim to get there at some point".

You smiled weakly, being reminded of how even when it came to their careers they were a better fit than you and him. An actress and a film producer. It was a match made in Heaven.

"It's not like we were talking about anything top secret" he tried to reassure you when you wouldn't reply.

"No, but…" you sighed. "I don't know".

“Tell me”.

“It would’ve just… We were being way too cozy, and she was watching, I didn’t want to have her think that we’re—you know…”

Hyunjin frowned, looking down to his fidgeting hands on his lap. “But we are, though… Aren’t we?”

You looked up at him in surprise, and he could feel his heart flutter at the sight of your shining, incredulous eyes.

“We are?” you asked in a whisper.

“Do you…” he bit his lip, silently looking for the right words. “Do you really think I’m in love with her?”

You shrugged, sitting up and leaning away from him.

“Y/N…”

“I don’t know what you want me to tell you, it’s always been so obvious”.

“It was nothing, though”.

You snorted at that, shaking your head in disbelief while you focused on one of the trees in front.

“I mean it,” he reassured you, cupping your chin and guiding your face in his direction, giving you no choice but to look at him and feel your breath get caught in your throat over how little distance separated your face from his. “Whatever silly crush I had on her is gone by now”.

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me”.

“But I do,” he disagreed. “I do need to explain myself if it’s gonna jeopardize my relationship with you”.

“R-Relationship?” you whispered again, this time almost inaudibly.

"I mean, not like—I know we don't," he panicked, and you couldn't help but smile ever so faintly at the way his eyes opened wider than usual and his cheeks became a bright pink. "I'm just—in the future maybe, like…"

"Like…" you trailed off, giving him the little push he needed to go on.

Hyunjin took a deep breath. His hands were no longer cupping your face, but nervously shoved into his pockets instead. Suddenly, he had lost all the sudden confidence he previously had when it came to making it clear to you that he no longer wanted anything to do with Minji.

But he wanted things to be clear between the two of you. He wanted you to know that whatever it was he once felt for her, was now gone.

He wanted you to know he wanted you.

So, earning back every ounce of confidence he once had, he took his hands out of his pockets and held yours in them — his thumbs ever so tenderly caressing your soft skin, staring at them with the softest of smiles before his eyes went back up to your already elated ones.

“I like you, Y/N” he confessed. “I really, really like you".

"You do?" you murmured, not believing your ears.

"Mhm…" he nodded, feeling shyness hit him like a truck all over again yet refusing to let it take control over him. "I want to give us a try, I want to be with you, and… I just, I don’t want you to believe I'm stuck on Minji when I'm not".

You looked down to your lap and simply nodded, silently — visibly enough for him to know you heard him, yet not confidently enough for him to think you trusted him.

Everything he had just said was exactly what you wanted to hear. He wanted to be with you. Not her, you. He liked you, and wanted to give your relationship a try. Then why was your gut not allowing you to feel as happy as you should be?

"Can you please say something?" he whispered, nervously biting on his bottom lip.

"I, I don't…"

"You don't like me back?" he assumed; defeat clear in his eyes.

"No, I do!" you clarified embarrassingly fast, not even getting to feel ashamed about it after seeing the way his whole face lit up. "I do. I do like you".

He laughed under his breath, blissfully — thumbs still drawing circles in the palms of your hands, only this time it felt playful.

"What's stopping us then?" Hyunjin asked.

You shrugged, letting out a sigh as you looked up to the sky. "It's not even been two months since she left…"

He sighed heavily, cupping your face with one of his hands and making you look at him once more. "I know it seems like too little time, but I fell so hard so fast for you, Y/N. I can't even understand it either, but I did".

"What about when she comes back…"

"Does it matter?" He tilted his head in confusion. "I'll be with you, nothing's gonna change".

"She's coming back in five months," you pointed out, a small smirk curving up your lips. "You really think we'll last that long?"

Hyunjin giggled, resting his forehead on yours and smoothly pulling you closer to him by firmly placing a hand on your back.

"I think we'll last longer than that, actually".

That did it for you. Those confident words coming out of his mouth, his lips only inches from yours and his strong hand on your back, were all it took for you to shut down every rational part of your mind and to let your heart take over instead.

You wanted to be with him, and he wanted to be with you. So what if he used to have feelings for your mutual friend; it didn’t have to be so complicated.

And maybe, in the long run, that had been your biggest mistake. Pushing all your worries aside and just diving into your feelings for him. Rushing into things. Letting go of your inhibitions that night and never looking back from a decision you made in the heat of the moment.

Your biggest mistake was forgetting about the reason you were sitting all the way across from your previous seats around the bonfire to begin with, and why Hyunjin had come up to you in order to comfort you and reassure you of the way he felt for you.

The reason of all your insecurities was currently at the other side of the world, and Hyunjin was all the way over here with you. It was just that easy to forget about your concerns when the cause of them was nowhere near. Especially when the person your heart was crazy about was holding you so close.

Chuckling at those words that had made you risk it all, you placed your hands on his chest and softly nuzzled his nose. "You think so?"

"What, you wanna bet?" He challenged with a raised eyebrow.

You shook your head no immediately, as a laugh escaped your throat. And with each shake of your head, you moved closer to him — until there was no more space between your mouths, and your puckered lips were softly pressing on his receptive ones.

They felt just like everything you had ever dreamed of, but better. They tasted sweet, just like him; and they somehow felt even softer and plumper than they looked.

With your heart speeding up in such a way you had not felt in so long, you pulled away, feeling your cheeks burn up while your face remained buried in his neck in a poor attempt to hide from what you had just done.

"Oh, no. No," he warned you, tilting his head towards your hidden face and placing his hand on your neck — gently, yet strong enough to manage to make you look up at him. "You don't get to kiss me and then pull away before I get a proper taste of you".

His lips were trapping your bottom one before you could even register his words. He pulled you in closer, hand travelling from the back of your neck to the side of it, so that he could hold you still while his thumb was faintly pressing on your throat.

He deepened the kiss in no time, tilting his head to the side right as his tongue traced your bottom lip for you to open up. Once you did, he was greatly met by yours in the middle — tenderly massaging each other for a brief moment, before you focused back on sucking and teasing your needy lips.

"Did this answer your question?" he whispered against your mouth.

Too far gone in the sensation of his addictive lips on yours and the way his hot breath hit your mouth as it mixed with your own, you struggled to find your voice. "W-What even was the question?"

Hyunjin giggled, louder this time. Both hands cupped your cheeks, and his thumbs tickled your bottom lip as they faintly traced it. "You're so cute".

You looked down, not being able to hold his stare after hearing such a statement come out of his swollen, pink lips. Hyunjin laughed under his breath at the sight of it, planting a soft kiss on your forehead before he pulled you into his arms and fixed the blanket that was sliding down your shoulders.

"Are you two lovebirds done exchanging saliva?" Minho asked from the table a few meters away, mindlessly opening a red cooler.

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, and you shyly buried your face in the crook of his neck like it was oh-so-natural by now.

"Is that a yes?"

"What do you need?" you reluctantly gave in.

"You're literally the only person apart from me who knows how to properly fillet a fish, so…"

You sighed, sitting up and giving Hyunjin a lingering, apologetic look before you stood up.

"I can help, too" he stood up immediately after you, leaving the blanket by your chairs and following behind you.

"I actually need your help chopping the veggies" Hyejin caught him by his t-shirt before he could even reach your side.

"But I can help Y/N cut th—"

"You don't even know how to cut a fish" Hye mocked him.

"No, but—"

"Just give it up, lover boy" Seungmin shut every hope of his down, placing a firm hand on his shoulder and dragging him with them to the other end of the table. "Come join those of us on veggies duty, Y/N's not going anywhere".

Throwing one last glance your way and watching you fold up your sleeves right before you got to helping Minho, Hyunjin smiled. He wished you weren't interrupted because of veggies and fish duty, and therefore you could still be sitting down by the bonfire, all alone, making out like he then realised he was desperate to.

But Seungmin was right. You were not going anywhere. For as long as he stayed by your side, and for as long as he made you feel safe enough in your relationship, you would stay.

For as long as you knew he was yours and you were his, you were not going anywhere. And he planned to keep it that way, so there was truly nothing for him to worry about, right?

tag list: @brinnalaine @slut4colinbridgerton @sherryblossom @svintsandghosts @phenomenalgirl9 @meloncremesoda @jxcesstuff @nhyunn @armystay89 @mal-lunar-28 @143hyunes @seungminstaehyun @cutiespaghetti @chaotic-world-of-the-j @its-me-hyunjin @kwanisms @hyunfruits

#skz #stray kids #hyunjin #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #hyunjin imagines #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #hyunjin fanfic #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #hyunjin scenarios #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #hyunjin x reader

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velvetvexations · 4 months

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it’s so bizarre to me that you never, EVER reblog or post anything about transmisogyny or the transfem experience. like, can you even recommend any transfem-centric blogs for me to follow? for someone so into “solidarity” your trans activism seems pretty focused on trans men only

So there are multiple things going on with this ask.

As I've explained several times before - I don't necessarily blame you for not seeing it, but I have - most social issues give me panic attacks to contemplate. The thing I mentioned triggered me so badly yesterday was something in the transmisogyny tag that wasn't tagged with anything I had blacklisted (not that OP's fault, I added more variations of transphobia warnings so it hopefully won't happen again).

Intercommunity issues are less existential. Things like hate crimes and legislative assaults on queer people freak me out and leave me a shaking, crying, doomscrolling mess. I don't even follow like, literally any of the people who followed me for transandrophobia advocacy because they reblog other things that gives me heart palpitations.

That limits my exposure to intercommunity issues facing transfems specifically as well, the vast majority of people I follow don't put any discourse on my dash at all. However, I have in fact reblogged posts purely about transmisogyny (other than the kind transandrophobes throw at me lol) only to immediately delete them when I see the OP is vile towards transmascs in other posts, completely spoling the message. At least one was even specifically about ways transmascs can be transmisogynistic, which I thought was a fair enough criticism before realizing it was at best one good point in a sea of bullshit directed at our trans brothers. Another time I specifically asked someone how they felt about trasnmascs before I reblogged their very good post about transmisogyny and was delighted when they gave a fantastic response.

Furthermore, I do actually just speak on pure transmisogyny myself sometimes! I talked at length about the immense pain it caused me realizing Alison Bechdel was TERFier than I thought in a way that completely contradicts the strip that made me cry out of appreciation for her. Recently, I've also been talking a lot about the ways butch transfems are treated for not looking cis.

Do I mention these things less than transandrophobia and other issues that affect people other than transfems? Sure. But like...so what? I like doing things for other people.

I don't mean to act like I'm some kinna savior or anything, but as I said just yesterday, helping people outside of your own issues is something I'm kinna obsessed with not just in myself but others too. I'm constantly stressing how cis allies should be appreciated e.g. my previous feelings about Bechdel, and despite how she turned out I still firmly believe that cis allies should be treasured. I've donated money to multiple cis allies to say thanks for their statements.

It's not like I'm just so saintly selfless or anything like that, I'm very self-centered, it's just that being an ally to [x], [x] being allies to me, and [x] being allies to [y] who have nothing to do with me is not only a rare area of activism I can function in, it's one that actively brings me joy. This includes having sent multiple messages to transmascs thanking them when they speak up about transmisogyny, because I want to show them the love so many of them have shown me for the same thing.

Finally, you say my trans activism is focused on trans men. Maybe so, by volume. But, and I've mentioned this before, I've been wanting to do more for everyone else as well, literally everyone. I've asked a bit about intersex issues and am trying to learn more about what non-binary people who don't lean to one end or the other deal with as well, and I also want all my cis followers to feel just as comfortable and supported by me as well - and, of course, that all goes for other transfems as well, whose pain cuts me to the bone.

I'm radically pro-everyone, anon, and I want to help uplift them all without exception. I understand focusing on one's own lane, and I neither judge that nor am attempting to portray myself as a uniquely noble white knight. That's just what I personally choose to put my efforts towards.

#transmisogyny

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foodsies4me · 7 months

Text

February Malec fic rec!

Thanking @kalalab for this month's theme which is enemies to lovers! The same rules still apply, about one fic per author, but all of these authors have other brilliant fics you should be reading and if you want to add your own recs in the comments, tags, or reblogs please feel free to do so! 😊

Also, I have tagged the authors whose Tumblr account I know, but if you'd prefer I not tag you, please tell me so! I don't want these to be annoying for the authors.

One-shots:

Rumor Has It by Lecrit: A human AU which is not something I'm generally a fan of, but Lecrit just writes so well that I gobble this up anyway.

Summary:

Magnus widens his eyes at him, silently asking him to just give him this one. Alec simply curves one of his stupidly perfect eyebrows in response, a simple gesture that carries the weight of a call for challenge. “Looks like you’re gonna have to postpone your wedding for now,” Maia giggles next to him. Magnus huffs, flexing his jaw. “Oh, it’s on, Lightwood,” he mouths at him.

Also, because I suck at keeping to my own rules, I'm adding a second fic rec that I maybe love just as much by Lecrit aka the way to a chef's heart. But, in my defense, both fics are great and one is about cooking and baking. I am weak when it comes to food, okay?

Anyway, summary:

After a scorching review on his restaurant in one of the world's most famous food magazines, world class chef Magnus Bane is set on finding the food critic who dared to slander his art and make him change his mind. He doesn't expect someone as stubborn or infuriating as Alec Lightwood

you're the light that i won't let go by oh-la-fraise: Another human AU as well as an Enemies to Lovers with a twist.

Summary:

There were three unspoken rules to the Manhattan Institute of Higher Learning, New York’s premier private K-12 school: 1) Respect that the space under the football bleachers was for sex, and only for sex. 2) Don’t eat the cafeteria meatloaf. 3) Never mention Mr. Bane to Mr. Lightwood or vice versa, unless you wanted the whole class to get extra homework.

careless curses by @alexanderlightweight: I don't know what to say that isn't already stated in the summary except I love it when alexanderlightweight writes dark themes. (Or just writes in general).

Summary:

The Lightwood family has been cursed by death for generations and now, Alec lives with death hovering over him. Sometimes life is the curse and death the reward.

Ten Not-Dates That Magnus Bane Spends Falling In Love with Alec Lightwood by Aria_Lerendeair: Magnus is hilariously done at the start of this fic.

Summary:

Magnus was going to have words with the Clave. They would be decidedly unpleasant words, and they might be accompanied by a few very pointed magic blasts and maybe even curses. They deserved it. Another Lightwood in charge of the New York Institute?

Multi-chapter fics or series:

All the Costs are Even by tsujiharu: A fic that deserves more love imo, is this Pride and Prejudice retelling. Also, I'm just now realizing that most of these are Human AU's despite me being notorious for generally not liking them, lol.

Summary:

A modern day Pride and Prejudice AU, in which a disgruntled lawyer and an aloof entrepreneur can't seem to get over their pride (and prejudices?) and admit their very obvious attraction to each other.

love is a four-letter word by @la-muerta: Do la-muerta fics need to be recced? Probably not because I suspect most people have read them. Am I still going to to rec them because I love them? Yes! So here is another lovely human AU fic where first impressions maybe aren't what they seem.

Summary:

Magnus knows he's one of the best editors in the business. So when the bigoted director of the publishing house he works for gives their grandson's best friend the promotion Magnus deserved to get, he decides that it's the last straw. Magnus intends to go out with a bang and take his new boss down with him — but he didn't mean for it to happen quite so literally.

Crush On You by @gospi: A FTH fic of 2023 that had me laughing at how salty Alec is about crushing on Magnus. A lot of fun.

Summary:

An ancient, unsuccessful recipe for starting new relationshipsalliances: A dash of rumors. A sprinkle of heritage. A smidgen of jealousy. A dollop of chaotic disasters. A shitload of assumptions. Let it simmer. Enjoy!

My True Love Gave To Me by AlxSteele: Christmas repeats itself endlessly for Magnus and while it's annoying he does end up learning a new side from the awful baked Alec Lightwood. Surprise, he isn't all that awful.

Summary:

Magnus Bane had a plan, a perfect Christmas Eve just like always. Hang out with his friends, bask in the Christmas Spirit. Then everything went wrong. Now he's stuck reliving the same day again and again and again. The bright side? Maybe Alec Lightwood isn't as terrible as Magnus always thought.

A fic that I am sure most people have already read because it is wonderful (which is the reason why I didn't add it last month even though it's a wing fic) is Fall Without Wings by @notcrypticbutcoy. It's a brilliant fic that's all.

Summary:

Or: In which the Nephilim have wings, are taught to loathe Downworlders, and Alec is presented with a conundrum when Magnus Bane saves his life.

#Fic rec #Malec fic rec #I don't know if people actually read this #but these also give me a reason to reread fics #so it's a win either way #also these are a lot fluffier than my previous rec list #which means the next one has to be angsty again #j

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jakowskis · 11 months

Text

torchwood fanfic resources

so i'm a chronic livejournal archaeologist, and fixating on 2000s media is particularly fun for me because it means i get to go digging on lj / dw / old fanfic forums. below you'll find some of the excavations from my torchwood fixation (give it up for month 6!) it's pretty much got every comm i've ever stumbled upon and found useful, or thought others would find useful. it's largely fanfic-oriented, though there's some more generalized comms, too. i hope you guys enjoy!

i was originally going to include a link to my reclist on this post as well, but it's still a wip, so i'll just post that separately in the future.

general disclaimer: most of the content here is from 2006-2013 or so. period-typical attitudes may pop up in places. i'm not sure if most modern tw fans have witnessed the original fandom at all, but i felt a need to say this anyway, because i've seen some icky stuff. i've warned for anything notable. gwen bashing in particular may unfortunately pop up in some of these comms, especially in the comments, so tread carefully.

if you're new to probing through old lj comms, remember to always have the wayback machine on hand, because you're going to run into a lot of purged accounts and seemingly lost fics, but sometimes you get lucky and something's been archived :)

as of the date i'm posting this, all of these comms are still accessible, but if you're from the future and some have been deleted, again, go ahead and give the wayback machine a try. additionally, livejournal has a system that includes 'cross-posting' in which, if authors choose to (and the majority of them do, to get their fics more visibility), fics get posted to multiple comms at once. so chances are, even if one comm gets deleted, the contents will survive through other comms. kind of like how reblogs continue to exist even when the original blog is deleted.

finally, ctrl + f is your best friend if you have a specific ship/character/trope you're invested in, especially in comms with less than ideal tagging systems. if a comm does have a substantial tagging system, you can find all of its tags by adding '/tags' the end of the urls i've provided.

ok... let's begin :-)

assorted livejournal communities

✎ torch-wood: this is essentially a torchwood subreddit. it started before the show even aired, and one of the highlights of it is episode reaction posts (easily accessible on the right side of the lj) that document how everyone immediately reacted to the eps, which is pretty damn cool, fandom-history wise. only thing i should mention is there's quite a lot of gwen and owen bashing in the comments of some of those reaction posts, so just be wary of that if you love those two like i do, 'cuz it's a bit of a bummer.

✎ torchwood-three: this comm is an extremely cool then-daily newsletter (that still updates sometimes?!) that compiled as much fan-content as it could find into cleanly organized lists. the posts made immediately after new episodes aired contain reactions, discussions, meta, theories, new fic, fanmixes, just about everything. very very cool to go back and see the way the fandom was thinking as the show was airing and as they were getting to know the characters. here's a direct link to all posts made in late 2006, during the airing of s1.

✎ torchwood-fic: exactly what it says on the tin. desktop layout is easy to navigate, tags are all there!

✎ torchwood-fic's profile page also features a list of affiliated accounts that's pretty handy. it's worth taking a peek at, in case i've excluded anything in this post that you might be interested in.

✎ twgenrefinders: handy dandy comm where people would ask for fics of a certain variety & be treated with reclists, or hyper-specific fics... pretty cool stuff, ive got several threads bookmarked to sort through the links later. ofc, please note that some of the things people asked for might be stinky. particularly i've seen a lot of ppl requesting gwen bashing fics :/

✎ twstoryfinder: cousin to the above comm; here, people would ask for a very specific fic they'd lost. it's kind of fun to find fics through because you get someone describing memorable scenes + hyping it up, so it's different than just a standard summary. this one still gets posted on, too, which is crazyyy.

✎ tw-unpaired: for gen fics! no romance allowed! there's some good character studies + friendship fics in there. stuff's tagged by character + authors are even tagged, in case you find one whose writing you particularly enjoy. this is v useful for when someone's main journal has been deleted.

✎ torchwood-decaf: a comm where janto is BANNED. nah i'm kidding, it's not anti-janto, it was just made because janto is so huge that it overshadows everything else. pretty smart, tbh; wading through the sheer mass of janto content can be tiresome.

✎ jack-in-cuffs: for dark tw fic, or uber smutty tw fic. as a fan of dark!fic, there's some goodies in here, but of course it's not everyone's cup of tea. most of the writers included warnings, but if you go a little further back, some people weren't as courteous; navigate with caution.

✎ jack-owen: for fic featuring our captain and his (second favorite) doctor. i know this pairing's kinda divisive nowadays, but i enjoy it a lot. the comm's got a dismal tagging system and, ngl, i don't truly like any of the fics there (i'm very intrigued by jack and owen's relationship but i've never found fic that really does them justice, and i still haven't figured out how to write them myself) - but i'll include it anyway.

✎ odetojoi: for fic featuring owen in the middle of a janto sandwich, for those of us who are allergic to women (/sarcasm). there's an oddly impressive supply of fics of the three of them, and a good chunk of them can be found in this comm. (everytime i see this comm i think of a certain abbreviation found in p/rnogr/phy... but i digress)

✎ halfwee-and-tea: for ianto x owen fic. haven't gone through this one much, truthfully. i hate when comms have no tagging systems agh.

✎ owenharper-fans: a comm for the saddest undeadest bisexualest doctor around. also features a few burn appreciation posts, which is nice to see pre-pac rim era. mostly just features a shit ton of owen fic, particularly owen x ianto fic. mostly sufficiently tagged. if you need me once i post this, btw, i will be balls deep in this comm.

✎ the pro-owen alliance: another owen-focused comm - i think this one was made directly in response to owen bashing. haven't combed through this one much but it's got a fair amount of fics.

✎ house-of-cooper: a gwen comm! made in response to gwen bashing. haven't gone through it, but i'm glad it exists.

✎ torchwoodcoffee: ianto comm! this one's hugeee. the majority of it's janto, but the pairings aren't tagged, which is really frustrating. about 6k fics on there, though! just untagged. fff.

✎ tw-femficfest: a comm for fic about any and all of the torchwood ladies. tagging's cleanly done & there's some handy fic round ups, too.

✎ tw-femslash: yuri!!! wahoo!!! a comm for f/f tw ships. there's quite a lot of fic on here, but unfortunately there's no tagging whatsoever. sigh.

✎ tw-classic: a comm for 'all things series one and two of torchwood'. was made after s3 and was popular around s4 out of nostalgia for the golden age <3 good amount of fic, discussions, etc.

✎ torchwood-house: this comm is, like, letterboxd, but for torchwood fanfic. basically a group of individuals who thought of themselves as having Good Taste would read Good Fic and then go in this comm and write a post about why they recommend it. it's well-made, easy to scroll through, and sells the fics v well, and it kinda gets you more excited to read them when you get to see someone hype them up with Fancy Words. it's like a little torchwood yaoi bookclub. we're eating quiche

✎ tw100: a drabble challenge; this thing's full of 100 word drabbles. ngl i hate drabbles but i'm throwing it in here anyway

✎ touchyerwood: i love kink memes... i love kink memes less when my favorite character/pairing is unpopular. the pac rim kink meme's been a blessing bc i'm a basic ass newmann - the torchwood kink meme? not so much. it's got a fair amount of shit, though, so maybe someone else will appreciate it. this one isn't the original, that one's been wiped off the internet, to my chagrin. keep in mind before digging that people in kink memes are horny & gross. that's your warning.

✎ reel-torchwood: for any and all movie aus... ok i have a bone to pick with this comm. i'm a big movie nerd, i love film, i've seen dozens of films i've thought would make good aus - i combed through this and there is not a SINGLE fic in there that piqued my interest. NOTHING. needless to say my disappointment is immeasurable and my day is ruined. i'm sure my experiences aren't universal though.

✎ torchwoodslash: ah, remember when we called it slash? gee whiz. i'm not big on this comm, it's not very user friendly + there's like no tags whatsoever so it's extremely hard to navigate. enter at your own risk & good luck, lol.

✎ rounds-of-kink: this isn't a torchwood-exclusive comm, but it's got a sizeable torchwood tag, which can be found here. pretty organized tagging system; makes me happy.

✎ tw-declassified: this comm was mainly used for running a 'torchwood bingo', which, i've been in other fandoms that do episode bingos and it's usually cute... this one confused me a little so i didn't bother peeking around too much, but still a cool little bit of fandom history.

✎ writerinadrawer: this was an annual torchwood writer's challenge that ran for four years... it's kinda hard to navigate but it does have some fic in it so i'm putting it here.

✎ dmarley-recs: a recs journal someone ran for compiling torchwood fic; it's got a l o t of recs on there, largely jack/ianto.

ok and straying from lj briefly for two other places to find fic...

✎ kink_bingo: this is a dreamwidth comm, and it's not torchwood-exclusive, so i've linked straight to the torchwood tag. this comm has a livejournal equivalent, but for some reason the tw tag is pretty barren on that one? not sure why. but on dw it's got a fair amount. the tagging system is rough, it tags fandom and kink but not pairing, which is irritating, and every post is hidden under a cut AND makes you go through a discretion barrier every single time (but probably only if you don't have an account? i'm not logged in) which makes navigation a pain. but i dunno, more smut, if you want it.

✎ whofic.com: this site is for doctor who fic, but it's got a very substantial amount of torchwood fic. i do not, however, like the formatting at all. i'm being overly nice; i HATE the formatting. it's very reminiscent of fanfic dot net but, like, worse. it reminds me of adultfanfiction dot org which was a NIGHTMARE to use. but! there is torchwood fic there so it's going in here.

aaaand there we go! that's all i have. i hope these prove handy! enjoy :D

#torchwood #torchwood posting #mine #txt

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ballcrusher74 · 8 months

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hello. are you. perhaps 👉👈 willing to talk about the inspector/faux. ive only seen cool arts and no context so im rather curious.

OK!!! I actually love rambling about my ocs so small questions like this make me day. I just get nervous LOL But! I will say, there's gonna probably be a bit I'm leaving out because it does involve my friends' characters and it's still an on-going thing atm (we tend to roleplay on lethal company as our guys. btw the oc group is called Cleanup Crew ! it explains the recent reblogs and new tags I've added on posts with this guy) AND this does also involve my own little interpretations of in-game mechanics and other things, but otherwise, I'll get the rest of him down!

Inspector, also originally known by the name of Terrance Conroy (or Terry), was a typical scavenger working under 'The Company' after a couple rough times on his home planet. (This information isn't necessarily set in stone, but the idea of him being a washed-up rock star before quitting his passion to get a job that pays his rent has been bouncing around in my brain.) He used to be a normal guy, trying to find a little hope in his desperate situation, and was a social butterfly. He tend to bounce from crew to crew, sometimes staying in some for only a couple days, and some for months. He was a very careful man, and looked out for his fellow crew members.

And then, one day, his first death on the job happens.

But instead of being greeted by a bright white light at the end of a tunnel, or complete pitch darkness, he appears on the ship again- completely physically fine.

This.. confuses him at first, yet he continues on.

And then he dies again. And again, and again. Over and over, the more deaths he's endured, the more he comes to a morbid realization that he can't truly die, nor can those around him. He tries to keep this truth hidden away from the others, as they seem to not have mentioned it at all before. He remembers everything. Every time he was ripped to shreds by an eyeless dog, every time he blew up into pieces from a landmine, every time he was shot multiple times, every time he was left behind or ejected as part of the disciplinary process- He felt it all and remembered it all. This goes on for the course of years (around 8-10 roughly) and over that course of time, he begins to grow very careless. What's the point of saving someone if they'll just come back? What's the use of tears when you're only a couple dollars off quota with a shovel in hand?

What's the point of it all? And with that carelessness comes selfishness into the picture. With how long he's been stuck in the cycle, he has become a very manipulative person, putting up a playful and nice persona on the outside- almost sickeningly sweet- in order to help other's do his bidding. He believes that if he were to cause so much chaos, disorder, and disruption within a crew, to where it's like animals mauling each other apart, he'd be able to break free from it himself. He doesn't care anymore about leaving others behind. He's desperate at this point to find a way out. Faux, who is an alter ego / disguise for Inspector, ties more into the on-going events right now, but I can give a basic rundown on his personality. He's a klutzy and quiet man, typically only talking to others when it's just him and them, and nobody else around, playing himself off as a selective mute. Since this is just Inspector in a jazzy little jester outfit, he still possesses all the traits of that man, just hidden away as to not blow his cover. He's still tugging on the strings in some way, people just don't realize. Sure, he's off putting and just a tad bit strange, but how can a goofy man like that be terrifying?

WOOOW ok that's a lot more typing than expected, but here's also a couple fun facts about the guy !

He stands at 6 feet and 1 inch, and is a very lanky guy compared to others, but this wasn't always the case. He used to just stand at 5 feet and 6 inches, and had more normal human proportions. With how many times he has died and how long it's been of the cycle, it has fucked up his appearance a LOT. Other things include : his 'skin' being grey, his voice constantly sounding like it's coming from a walkie talkie, no visible neck, his face becoming the helmet itself (it still bleeds, but there's nothing in there), and inhumanly flexible.

The only thing left of him that represents his last strand of humanity, is a singular, dim eye behind the tape on his visor.

He is very much not a rational man anymore. He is quick to jump to things, and won't hesitant with his actions.

When waiting to return from death, he is able to manifest in someone's head as a disembodied voice, and will typically mock them, or try and manipulate them further. In this state, he can see everything through the eyes of the person he's haunting. ^ Fun fact about this! This was originally based off a stupid bit where my friend was streaming LC to me with other buddies on the game and I kept telling them to step on landmines and then kill someone for a promotion, and then Inspector was born!

and UH I think that's about it I have for the guy atm! If the rest of the cleanup crew gets dropped than I'll update this accordingly perhaps. As of right now, enjoy my oc slop 👍

#lethal company #lethal company oc #oc #cleanup crew #that inspector that i hate #render

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panelshowsource · 1 year

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masterpost update... 🥹

hi guys it's been a minute 🥹 as i mentioned, i was working on updating the masterpost this past week, moving a large bulk of content onto my panelshowsource googledrive account, because i think everything stored there will be easily accessible and safe long term :)

the masterpost is the same original link it's been since it was established over 5 years ago! always bookmark the original post, not a reblog and not this post, so you have access to the most updated version & its links!

��

i had to do some reorganising of the post because of tumblr's latest round of post restrictions:

i'm not able to provide many alternative links because i'm nearly at the link limit as it is, but i think what's provided is reliable and you can always send an ask if a link needs updating!

since i can no longer give every series its own photo header, everything is organised by bolded text and bullet points, which will look and read best on desktop opposed to mobile (mobile seems to despise indentation)

—

a few notes regarding specific titles:

i did add all of taskmaster to my drive due to overwhelming requests, but only s1–4+15 are in 1080p, so i will begin updating the 720p files to 1080p over the next couple of weeks. thanks for your patience! in the meantime, you can watch them in hd on youtube ofc! i'll also update hypothetical as i get those locked down

i...i wanna say something so honest... i really don't care about a league of their own and most of you don't seem to either. it's a huge hassle organising the episodes because — not to say this for the third time in two sentences — but most people don't care much about it and haven't made the effort to keep it archived. we haven't seen a source for a complete series 6 in, like, 8 years. i'm not going to be making an effort to log that title for the time being. sorry if that's an inconvenience, but feel free to use the resources linked in my faq for your own research!

i added all of travel man (720p) and bridget christie's the change (1080p) to the misc watch links post (link below). i'll work on finishing upstart crow and then adding the rest of as yet untitled, game face, man down, and the cleaner!

i will continue uploading as-hd-as-possible versions of cats does countdown to my youtube channel and will eventually get them all on drive, but that's a slow process; i don't spend much time on youtube because half the commenters are tossers and deleting their negativity to keep it a fun space doesn't always leave me in a good mood 😡😡😡

i know a ton of celeb juice is on youtube but i haven't gotten around to organising it into a playlist (at least), but it's on my to-do list!

—

if you want to contribute to the post, i'm currently seeking these!

ask rhod gilbert

breaking the news (mostly looking for the tv version)

the news quiz (s97–current...i might have a source but it's a slow wip...)

there's something about movies

mel giedroyc unforgivable s03

—

➭ PANEL SHOW MASTERPOST

woooooooo

➭ ADDITIONAL WATCH LINKS

more wooooooooo

—

i'm going to tentatively open my requests (for watch links & gifs) so feel free to send a polite ask for something you may be seeking. it's much easier for me to keep track of asks than dms, if you don't mind sending there :)

okay friends enjoy! ヽ(゜∇゜)ノ

—

WATCH LINKS MASTERPOST / FAQ / TAGS / ASK

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missmaywemeetagain · 2 years

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Broken Glass Chapter 3 (Elvis/Austin!Elvis x OC Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis Presley - Elvis (2022)

Read More Here - Broken Glass Masterlist! 💔🥂❤️‍🩹

Prompt: You are Dolores Cannava, a young Italian-American nurse desperate to make her own way in the world and break free of her dysfunctional mafia-connected family and traumatic past. Elvis Presley is just returning home from his two-year stint in the Army, looking more handsome than ever, but feeling the pressure to successfully find his way back to the stratospheric career he was forced to leave behind. In a twisted turn of fate, Elvis finds himself in the hospital where your paths cross. Forced to harbor his potentially career-ending secret and needing to escape a terrifying future in New York, you are pulled into his unusual world and must endure a begrudging fake relationship with Elvis in order to protect his reputation (and his life).

TW: Sexual assault (not described in too much detail). Dissociation. Mentions of physical abuse. Coercion. The Colonel. Some historical inaccuracies.

Tags: Fake relationship. Slow burn. Angst. (Sort of) enemies to lovers. Hurt/Comfort.

Rating: R (but this story will eventually be Mature/NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact) || Word Count: 5.9k

A/N: Happy Broken Glass Wednesday, y'all! 💔🥂❤️‍🩹 I'm going to try to put out a chapter a week on Wednesdays (we shall see if I can keep up lol). Thank you for your lovely responses to Chapter 2 and I'm so glad people are finding the premise and E's health to be as fascinating as I do!

Please read the trigger warnings for this chapter. While not super graphic or in detail, this chapter delves into some dark things related to both sexual and physical assaults that are the catalysts for Dolores' decisions going forward and could definitely be triggering to some readers. It's not the whole chapter by any means--the actual moment is very short, but it is referenced in her desperation to forget what has happened to her and to escape her situation.

As always, I love and live for your reactions, comments, asks, and reblogs, so thank you in advance for both reading and giving another one of my stories a chance!

I imagined it with Elvis in mind, but Austin!Elvis works here, too, whatever floats your boat.

Apologies in advance if there are any grammatical errors or TW that I didn't catch.

I’ve used the tag list from Pink Scarf, and added those who requested it, so please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed!

Story is cross-posted to my Wattpad and AO3, if you prefer those reading experiences!

Usually, the subway threatens to rock you to sleep after your night shifts. It is rather quiet in comparison to the trains headed into Manhattan, filled to the brim with workers of all kinds who are headed in from the boroughs. A bonus of working nights has been the less crowded and frenzied rides as you are heading out of the city while everyone else is going in. But this morning, every time you close your eyes, those brilliant yet stormy sapphires stare back at you with amusement. You can’t even focus on the book you’ve brought without your mind wandering back to the strange encounter with Elvis, wondering why he’d chosen you of all people to bother.

Heat flares through you again at how maddening he was in such a short amount of time, but you are self-aware to recognize that while the heat is mostly frustration at his actions and the repercussions they caused you, it also speaks the tiniest bit of how his pointed, beautiful gaze made you feel a little off kilter. You are annoyed that you can’t seem to forget how lovely he looked asleep in the bed.

Not asleep. Unconscious.

And that reminder strikes dread in your heart. The words in his chart (which I shouldn’t have looked at in the first place) make you feel uneasy because this secret is likely to cause untold repercussions if discovered. Considering the fervor surrounding his draft into the Army, you can only imagine the emotions of the female populace if they learn the truth about their beloved idol’s health.

You shift in your seat uncomfortably, the weight of your knowledge an unwelcome pressure on your psyche. It’s your own fault of course. But the empathy that serves you well in the hospital also has you feeling sad for the poor man, despite your annoyance. You may not be a fan, but you can’t deny the man’s talent and impact on the world. Thousands, millions even, will be devastated when…

No. It’s none of your business. You shouldn’t even know who the VIP is, much less be worrying about the man’s future. You have much more pressing things to worry about.

Those worries take hold with each step towards the house where you live. It’s certainly not a home, not anymore, and hasn’t been for a very, very long time. Your mother’s untimely death assured that.

Part of the excitement of getting into nursing school, even one as close as Bellevue, was that you were required to live in the dormitory. Four whole years in a tiny closet of a room, clad with only a single bed and a tiny desk and a small sink. For many of the girls it was torture but for you it was sweet relief. Peace. Safety.

But the day after graduation, you’d been forced right back into the viper’s nest, unable to find a place to share with anyone else, certainly not before you’d secured the job you now are desperate to hang onto, the one thing that will hopefully secure that freedom for you.

A heaviness settles over you the moment you hit the doorway and you say a silent prayer that you are late enough to have missed breakfast. Another bonus to nights is the fact that you have a viable excuse to not interact with your volatile father, Pop, because he, along with your younger brothers, are often gone by the time you trudge through the door.

But said door is unlocked, a sure sign that you’re too early and the dread you’d felt on the train about a man you barely know is nothing compared to the fear that settles in your stomach at the sounds of breakfast in the dining room.

You tiptoe down the hall in an attempt to remain unseen, your breath held as though it will somehow make you invisible. It’s only two big steps past the open door of the dining room but those steps might as well be a ravine. You make a break for it all the same.

“Dolores!” Pop’s voice sends you ramrod straight, but the tone of it is not the usual gruffness and distain. No, this is the voice for company, the one that covers all the dirty little secrets that permeate the walls of this house.

“Look who stopped by! Aren’t you glad to see our old friend?” Pop says in that saccharine voice.

You pull your gaze up and right into the black eyes of another man you don’t want to see but have to act as though you do.

“Hello, Gianni,” you force out of your mouth as neutrally as possible, but you grip your purse tight enough that your knuckles turn white.

“My beautiful Dolores! It’s been too long, bella,” Gianni coos at you, rounding the table to press an unwanted kiss to your cheek. He lingers too long, his hands like heavy weights on your biceps. Every ounce of you wants to push the snake away but you cannot, not here in front of Pop and your brothers. Gianni is too important in the community and disrespecting him would have consequences.

“You are a hard woman to get ahold of, Lori,” he purrs in your ear, using the nickname that is reserved for close relations and friends. This angers you but you are tired and weary and correcting him would only spell trouble.

“I was just telling Gianni how that hospital is working you to the bone, keeping you up nights, and that’s why you haven’t returned his calls,” Pop says pointedly, the clear message underneath being “Why the hell haven’t you called him back?”

Your heart sinks into your stomach. You hadn’t called him back because you are avoiding him like the plague. Because you know he’s going to ask you out on a date and the result will be him asking you a question you do not want to answer.

Gianni has had his sights set on you since you’d hit puberty. Thankfully your youth saved you, as the seven years between you two was a great enough span that even your father did not approve of it in those early years. Then, nursing school kept you out of the fray, beyond a few well-chaperoned dates. But now that you’ve come of age and are back home, you’ve felt the crawl of him under your skin, getting closer and closer.

The fact that he wants you at all is crazy. Gianni’s father Salvatore is one of the “pillars of the community,” the Consigliere—the right-hand man of the boss of this crime family. He’s one of the most important figures in this dysfunctional community you live in. Being a woman, you aren’t supposed to know any details, of course, but it is impossible not to know at least some of what goes on in the famiglia. Especially when your father has been coming home covered in blood and bruises and smelling of gunpowder since you were a small child.

You aren’t supposed to know your father is a soldier, a violent underling sent to do all the dirty work for the boss. It’s hard to deny, though, since his temper and aggressiveness are never just left at “work.” Unfortunately for you, Pop’s somewhat lower position in the hierarchy has not disqualified you from being courted by Gianni; in fact, with approval from his father and the boss, Gianni has every right to pursue you.

However, to the dismay of all parties, you do not want to be pursued. Not by Gianni. He is handsome with his dark hair and olive skin, yes, but ruthless, set to devour anything in his path. He wants to possess you. Own you.

His near-black eyes shine with it even now, this need of his to collect what he believes is his due. You are well aware that he has intentions to marry you—the beauty and intelligence you inherited from your mother has seen to that. And since it’ll raise Pop’s stature in the famiglia, he has been pushing you towards Gianni one way or another since Gianni took an interest. Only your mother had been hesitant, but when she died, all hope was lost.

An arranged marriage in a modern world.

So, no, you haven’t returned Gianni’s calls because once you do, he’ll take you out and then he will propose, and you’ll be expected to accept. That has been made crystal clear by your father. Once that happens your life is over. Nursing will be over. Any independence you’ve gained will be gone, and you’ll be shackled for eternity to another cruel man and forced to bear his children and look pretty and happy while you do it.

Which means the fact that Gianni is here, now, is very bad news indeed.

“Sorry, I’ve been busy with so many shifts. The new nurses get nights,” you say, as though you didn’t love the night shift.

“Of course, of course,” he tuts, “which is why I am here to take you to breakfast.”

It is not a question.

Your heart drops so quickly it makes your stomach queasy, like you are on a roller coaster you cannot get off. The trapped feeling has panic swelling in your throat. Pop looks at you expectantly, with both warning and excitement flashing on his face.

You cannot refuse the invitation.

“I-I’m a mess, Gianni, and I haven’t slept,” you sputter out in a last-ditch effort to escape this.

The way his hand trails down your arm to grasp your hand makes your skin itch and you resist the urge to yank away from his grip. “You have to eat, bella. Go fix yourself up real quick, I’ll wait. And I’ll have you home at a decent hour,” he finishes with a wink.

You don’t trust yourself to speak because the bile rising behind your panic threatens to give your feelings away. Instead, you just nod and smile before heading up the narrow stairs to your room.

A quick change into a nicer dress, along with a wash-up and unpinning your hair is all it takes to make yourself presentable, but you find yourself stalling for as long as possible. You wish you could be tittering with the excitement that every woman deserves when they get engaged, but Gianni is a man you do not and will not ever love. You can barely stand to be in his presence, much less marry the man.

The walk down the stairs is more like marching to your funeral rather than a date. You manage to plaster a half-pleasant look on your face, but it doesn’t reach your eyes.

Gianni is the picture of patience standing next to your father in the foyer in his expensive suit, reeking of Acqua di Parma cologne. It makes you nauseous.

“Oooh, Lori’s going on a date!” your youngest brother Paul teases as you walk by him. This sad spectacle has gathered a crowd of your 18-year-old twin brothers, Tony and John, and 16-year-old Paul.

“Stai zitto, and get outta here! Go get ready for school!” Pop hisses at the boys and they scatter, but not before Tony gives you a knowing look that only you catch. The glance is as full of trepidation as you are.

Pop practically pushes you into Gianni’s waiting arms with that deferential, schmoozing smile and betrayal boils in your blood. A father is supposed to protect his daughter, not serve her to the wolves on a silver platter.

But your betrayal is quickly replaced by repulsion when the heat of Gianni’s hand resting on your lower back bleeds through your dress. He leads you outside and into the back of the waiting car, then slides in next to you, too close. Ignoring the driver, he makes small talk on the way to the restaurant, one that should be closed at this hour, but for the son of the Consigliere, it is open and staffed, though you are the only customers.

You resist the urge to balk when he orders for you and are monumentally uncomfortable being alone with him like this. His predatory eyes are focused solely on your every movement, so you attempt to be the picture of congeniality, as your culture has trained you to be since birth: pleasant, polite, demure. Underneath the façade, your heart pounds against your ribcage because you are unable to stop the collision you know is coming.

Barely able to eat the food in front of you, you resort to tiny bites and pushing the rest around the plate as inconspicuously as possible.

“You don’t need to be nervous, bella,” he states, seeming almost amused by your anxiousness. He flicks his wrist and the waiter appears out of nowhere to clear the plates. “And I know you are tired from slaving away all night at that hospital, but soon you won’t need to worry about any of that.”

The surety of that statement makes your stomach roll. Gianni pulls a small velvet box from the inside pocket of his coat and places it in front of you on the table. Your heart is a jackhammer against your sternum. You think you might pass out.

“My bella,” he purrs, getting up, then sliding into the booth next to you, trapping you in, “I think you know I’ve had my eye on you for quite a while now. Of course, I had to let you finish your schooling, let you grow up into the lovely woman you are now…”

Let me? you bristle internally, as if it were ever up to him, as if you ever needed his permission in the first place.

“But now it is time to let me take care of you and give you the life you deserve,” he finishes, opening the box in front of you to reveal a ridiculously large and gaudy diamond ring.

You are frozen, wanting so badly to tell him where to shove his ring and flee as fast and as far as possible. But instead, you can’t seem to move to stop Gianni from grabbing your shaking hand and placing it upon your trembling ring finger.

“Be my wife,” he says.

A command, not a question. One to which you don’t respond. Gianni takes your silence as acceptance, however, taking the single tear that spills down your cheek as one of happiness and not distress. He brushes it off your face with the backs of his fingers and you want to flinch, scream, anything that will tear you away from this union, but all you do is give him a tight smile and try not to sob outright.

Fight, goddamnit! your mind screams. But you can’t. You are imprisoned in your fear and despair, trapped by propriety, shackled by the responsibility to your family, to your brothers. Because a refusal would blow back on them as much as it would on you.

So, you don’t pull away when Gianni’s hand grips your chin or when he presses a kiss onto your lips. You’ve only been kissed once, by the boy who took you to the prom. You’ve been far too busy to date these past few years, much less kiss anyone, but at least that experience was enjoyable and coupled with butterflies. This kiss is devoid of anything other than a feeling of disgust. It seems to mark you as his possession, his cold lips making your stomach turn once again.

The rest is a blur as he brings you home, inviting himself inside. For once, you wish your father was home because the hungry look in Gianni’s eyes promises nothing good for you as he walks in behind you, into the too-silent house.

You fumble for the right words, the words that will make him leave so you can mourn the loss of your freedom in peace, but once he realizes the house is empty, he turns to you and pushes you into the wall. He is much taller than you, his muscular limbs so much stronger than your flailing ones as he pens you in.

The next kiss is hard and rough, all teeth and tongue. You press your arms against his chest in an attempt to push him away, but it does nothing but urge him on. Dizzy from the effort and drowning in the heaviness of his cologne, you barely make a dent in defending yourself against the assault of his lips on yours.

“Gianni, stop,” you finally breathe out, but he seems to take this as encouragement, nuzzling into your neck, his lips pulling and nipping at your skin. You can’t find the strength to push him off, to scream, to do anything other than whimper while his hands grope and wander places on your body that no man’s have gone before.

You pray for it to end. And when he grabs your hand and forces it down, down, down to feel the hardened length in his slacks, you go far, far away. You disappear into the same fog that takes you every time Pop goes ballistic, only realizing the truth of what happened when you come back into yourself later, feeling the pain of the bruises on your ribs, or seeing them on Mama, back when she was still alive to take them for you.

So, it shouldn’t be a surprise when you wake up much later in your bed, on top of the covers, your clothes in disarray. It’s not until you register the heaviness on your ring finger that you remember your engagement and the feel of Gianni’s meaty hands on you.

Barely making it across the hall to the bathroom, you vomit up what little you managed to eat for breakfast at the restaurant. Once the heaving stops, the shaking begins.

But you do not cry.

Rinsing out your mouth and splashing water on your face, you don’t, no, can’t, think about what may have happened once you faded away. You push away the thoughts of why your body feels sore and bruised in places it shouldn’t and why you can still smell the stink of his expensive cologne lingering on your dress and your skin.

No, no, no.

Disorientation makes you blink slowly as you come back into yourself and into the present, and you make your way back into your room. Your eye catches the clock and suddenly you feel wide awake.

Dammit!

You slept too long and are close to missing your train into the city for work, which today starts earlier than normal due to the fact you stupidly agreed to cover the end of your friend Sally’s shift so she could go on a date.

There is no time, then, to linger in despair. You race to rip off your dress and throw on a clean uniform, one thankfully already pressed and ready to go, pushing away the dark thoughts threatening to consume you. A pass of a comb through your messy locks and a few pins help you look somewhat put together and you slip on your white shoes, grabbing your bag.

The sparkling on your finger makes you pause long enough to tear the ring from your hand and throw it onto your vanity. If anyone asks, you don’t want to wear a ring like that into the city.

Flying down the stairs, you avoid the questions budding in Pop’s mouth with a “I’m late!” as you rush out the door. By the time you reach the station, you are breathless, but are just in time to make your train.

Exhaustion weighs on you as the adrenaline in your blood wanes. You slept today, but do not feel rested, and you pretend you don’t know why that is. It’s the last thing you want to think about.

Engaged. I’m engaged. To a monster. And he hurt me.

Your breath hitches in time with the rocking of the train, panic creeping its way back in.

No. Not now.

The urge to climb out of your skin, or at least scrub it raw under the locker room showers at work, must wait. You are grateful that you have to hit the ground running as soon as you step through the front doors of the bustling hospital. One emergency leads into the next and you barely have time to think past the next crisis, much less worry about what happened earlier today or the terror your future holds once you leave this hospital tomorrow morning.

“Nurse Cannava!” Nurse Hunt calls for you, her voice dropping once you approach, “Dr. Paulson is in with our VIP patient, and he is needed urgently. Go get him for me, and don’t get distracted by our patient this time, will you?”

“Yes, Nurse Hunt,” you say quickly, the dig not even bothering you. You’d take a lifetime of them in lieu of what waits for you outside this hospital. Fingers tittering nervously, you find yourself hoping that Elvis does not blame you for what happened last night. Though the way this day is going, you wouldn’t be surprised to find him combative towards you. And perhaps you deserve it after the way you treated him (even if he was being an ass).

The scene you are met with when you arrive at Elvis’ room is not what you are expecting, however.

“L-L-Little bird,” Elvis stutters, but it is not with the air of confidence he exuded last night. It is not aloofness or displeasure.

Your annoyance at the nickname, along with the smallest bit of relief that he is up and talking, quickly turns to apprehension. Much to your confusion, Elvis seems almost reverent as he stares at you, like you’d descended from the heavens or something.

Must be the head injury, you think, trying to make sense of him.

The other three men crammed into the tiny room all turn to stare at you at once, eyes wandering over you far longer than necessary, as though you are both interrupting something important yet are expected at the same time.

Why in God’s name are they all looking at me like that?

Elvis’ churning oceanic eyes lock onto yours and are loaded with such emotion that you can’t begin to sort through it, and you have to tear your gaze away. You manage to sputter out Nurse Hunt’s request to the doctor and instead of replying, the lot of them turn to Elvis, as though he has any say in it.

The silence sits heavy, and Elvis’ pale cheeks turn a little pink, almost bashfully, as you look at him again. He stares at you in an unreadable way, as though taking in every bit of you, as though seeing you for the first time. Confusion rushes over you in a self-conscious wave.

Have I done something wrong? Is this about snapping at him last night?

You shift uncomfortably, trying to piece together what is going on. But with everything that has happened in the last 24 hours, your brain can’t seem to put anything together other than that this group of men have lost their minds.

“I’ll be right there, Nurse,” Dr. Paulson finally states, looking back at you almost regretfully but you don’t take the time to try and figure out why. You are just grateful to be dismissed and leave the strange scene. In fact, with one crisis after another on the ward this shift, you put it out of your mind completely.

Until Dr. Paulson pulls you aside in the early morning hours, that is.

The doctor looks uncomfortable, his face in a grimace, when he leads you into a quiet corner.

Oh, Madone, I’m going to be fired. As if this day can get any worse. Your heart pounds and you fight back the tears that prickle behind your eyes.

“Nurse Cannava, I know this is going to be unorthodox…” he begins, and suddenly your mind jumps to another, equally disturbing place. The man is wearing a wedding ring, for God’s sake. And is old enough to be your father. You’d never taken the doctor to be that kind of man, but he interrupts your thoughts by continuing, “…but are you interested in private nursing?”

Now that is not what you were expecting. Relief floods through you, followed quickly by bewilderment.

“Excuse me, Doctor, private nursing? What do you mean?”

“Well, um, you see, Mr. Presley is going to need some discreet and rather specific care going forward,” he whispers, “and it seems as though you, um, fit the bill, so to speak, to take care of him exclusively.”

You fight to hold back the laugh that wants to escape your mouth at the pure absurdity of the situation. Elvis wants you of all people, the nurse who nearly took his head off last night, who sent him into respiratory distress, to take care of him exclusively? A day ago, you would have told him to shove his offer where the sun don’t shine.

But things have changed dramatically for you in the last day.

“I know it sounds strange, and certainly you’ve done great work here, but might you be willing to discuss this with his manager?

You cross your arms and worry your lip in between your teeth. The words fall out of your mouth before you can think too much on it.

“Yes, I’ll speak to him.”

Dr. Paulson sighs and nods, walking you down the corridor to a small waiting room. Your heart pounds in your ears as you are led inside.

“Colonel Parker, this is Nurse Cannava,” Dr. Paulson says, in a bristled tone that insinuates he doesn’t particularly care for the portly, balding man standing near the window you assume is Elvis’ manager. Colonel Parker turns to you, and you immediately get the sense the man is not to be trusted. Being around criminals who pretend they aren’t ones your whole life has given you a sixth sense for this sort of thing.

“Ah, Nurse Cannava, how lovely to meet you. We have much to discuss. I’m Colonel Tom Parker, Elvis’ manager.” Colonel Parker motions for you to sit in the chair across from him. He attempts to wave off Dr. Paulson, but the doctor does not go, choosing to stand in the doorway instead, seemingly wary to leave you alone with this stranger, and for that you are silently appreciative.

“And of course, this conversation must remain completely private, no matter what you decide. I’m sure a smart girl like you can understand the sensitivity of the situation,” he continues, leaning back in his chair, his casual position in direct contrast of his words.

“Of course,” you nod.

“Good. Now I’ll get right to it. After speaking with your supervisor, I know you are already aware that Elvis is quite…unwell.”

An understatement, to say the least.

“Yet I’m sure you also know how important Elvis is to so many people like yourself. Are you a fan, Miss Cannava?” he asks suddenly.

“Um, not especially, Mr. Parker,” but you rush to add, “It’s not as though I dislike his music, I’m just not one of those girls who, uh, fawns over him, sir.” You try and remain as neutral as possible because you get the feeling this question is some sort of test.

“Hmm,” is all he gives you in response. He looks you up and down with a careful beady eye and you resist squirming in your seat. Instead, you straighten your spine and lift your chin, your only tell being the way you tightly grasp your hands in your lap. His look is not a leer so much as an assessment as he takes in every inch of you.

After a moment he nods—you seem to have passed muster.

“This is an incredibly unique situation, my girl, which I’m sure you can appreciate. Elvis needs discreet, around-the-clock care, according to Dr. Paulson here,” he says with distain, “but we can’t have the world knowing that Elvis is ill. It would do irreparable harm to both his career and his fans.”

He is talking as if Elvis will have a career with his diagnosis, you think in surprise.

Colonel Parker must read this on your face. “You must understand, he loves his work, my dear, and nothing will keep him from it. Or his fans. Which is where you come in.”

“I assume I would just be there to take care of Elvis when he needs it, and to make sure he takes his medications and such?” you say.

“Well, it’ll be much more involved than that, my dear.”

You look at Dr. Paulson, who’s mouth is set in a line, as though he’s attempting not to add something to that statement.

“What do you mean, involved?” you ask.

“Firstly, you will need to live and travel with him,” he starts.

You nod. You figured as much, which is honestly why you are even considering this in the first place.

“But you see, no one can know you are his nurse. Elvis must appear, for all intents and purposes, the picture of health.”

Narrowing your eyes, you ask, “I’m sorry, I’m not sure I’m understanding, sir. How am I supposed to live and travel with the man to administer medical care without anyone knowing?”

Colonel Parker looks at Dr. Paulson, and then at you, a strange smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “You’ll be his girlfriend, of course.”

You choke at that. You can’t have heard him correctly. “Excuse me? I’ll be his what?”

“You will play the roleof his doting girlfriend, while secretly being his nurse. It was love at first sight, you see. Our handsome soldier comes to from a simple bump on the head and falls instantly in love with a beautiful young nurse, sweeping her right off her feet and into his life. Quite the storybook fairytale, wouldn’t you say?” he smiles that shifty smile.

Your heart flutters as fast as a hummingbird’s. “You…you can’t be serious. I—he—” you stutter.

“Oh, I couldn’t be more serious,” he says, the smile falling from his face. “I’ve been told this situation is life and death, my dear, and Elvis needs someone like you to help keep him alive.”

Silence falls and you can’t help but gape. But your mind whirls with the possible implications and how they might get you out of your current situation. If you weren’t desperate, you’d laugh in this man’s face, but your situation, and Elvis’ for that matter, are both quite dire.

Desperate times call for desperate measures.

“Of course, you would be extremely well compensated for your trouble. That’s in addition to room and board, since you will be staying with Elvis. But you will have to leave your current life behind to sell your relationship both to the public at large and to both his and your friends and families for this to work,” he adds.

It’s completely, utterly insane. You don’t even like Elvis, so you’re not sure how you’re supposed to pretend to be in love with him, while at the same time having to secretly tend to his medical needs. You can’t in your right mind see how this will work. You are no actress.

But that fraught voice in your head is thinking about your survival, about that engagement ring sitting on your vanity and the expectations that go with it. About what has already been taken from you because of it. You push those thoughts as far back as they will go, but the fear remains because you know that if you stay, any scrap of independence you have will be gone, and you will live the rest of your life with a horrible snake of a man.

You’ve been wrestling with a way to escape since Gianni put that ring on your finger, claiming you as his, against your will. But as a single woman with hardly any money and nowhere to go, your options to run are limited. And if you run, with the resources of the famiglia, you know you would be found quickly and your punishment would be painful, if not deadly.

But with Elvis, you’d be cared for—you’d have money, you’d be travelling, and you assume that with his fame, Elvis has a wealth of protection at his disposal. As long as you are close to him, and with the relationship being so public, you realize Elvis might be the only one who can protect you from Gianni and your father.

They wouldn’t dare do something to me if I’m Elvis Presley’s girlfriend. They won’t be able to touch me.

You choose not to think too much on how you still would be giving up some of your freedom. How you will still be tied to and at the mercy of a man. You don’t think about how long you might need to keep up this act and what might happen if you decide to leave. No, all you know is that as much as Elvis might annoy you, he seems like a decent man. He does not seem the type to hurt you, and you’ll be his employee, not his true girlfriend, anyway. You will still be nursing and earning money while doing so.

I can figure out the rest later.

“Perhaps it is asking too much. I know not every woman would be up for the task—”

“I’ll do it,” you interrupt Colonel Parker.

His eyes widen with surprise, which you get the impression is hard to do with this man. “You will?”

“As long as Elvis approves and that we have a contract with established rules and such. I think I’m safe in assuming I won’t be required to, well, beyond playing it up in front of others I won’t be required to…to do anything untoward,” you say, not being able to keep yourself from blushing at the implication.

“Of course not, of course not, my dear!” Colonel Parker hurries to say once he picks up on your meaning. “It’ll all be on the up and up and respectable. We would never ask you to compromise yourself like that.”

You nod, trying to still your shaking hands. You don’t trust Colonel Parker as a person, but if there is a legal contract, he can’t force you to do anything you don’t agree to.

“Then I will do it. When do I start?” You hope it’s as soon as possible. Frankly, you’d leave this hospital with the lot of them right now if it meant you didn’t have to go back to that house again.

The smile that spreads across his face unnerves you but does not scare you. Not like the other men in your life.

“Excellent, my dear. I will get that contract set up for you immediately, while Dr. Paulson apprises you of your medical duties. You’ll begin as soon as you sign on the dotted line,” he says. “Then we will get you in with Elvis. You both will have a lot to talk about, I am sure.”

You gulp and your heart flips in your chest. Part of you fears all the things you don’t know about what you are walking into: about Elvis, his lifestyle, and what you will have to do to convince the world you are Elvis Presley’s girlfriend. But it will all be worth it if you can get away from marrying Gianni or staying with your father.

Mother Mary, they will be furious.

But by then you’ll be long gone, safely tucked away by Elvis’ side.

And, strangely, that gives you more comfort than you could have ever hoped for.

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