#and if someone does then let me know if you guys want to see more of these
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biancadoes1 · 5 hours ago
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this could be proven wrong, but I’m just going to say this ….
If JD was with Nic at that bday, he would have made a story of it.
If that bday was a group dinner, there would have been a story from everyone there especially JD.
Nic and JD did not spend NYE with one another. That is a holiday I would think couples spend together. Even if Nic had a work event, JD would have been there bc that is his pattern. There were not together.
JD has not instinct to be a gentleman to Nic. He is a friend but his first reaction is not to protect or wait for like a partner would - The WT premiere was telling on his part.
Nic went somewhere on vacay after Christmas- tan lines. And she does not tan easily so she was really relaxing. Plus, Nic did not post during those days. Even when hanging with JD , she always post. She Never relaxes- something about those days had her in a state of ease.
Luke liked and commented on her SAG nom. The man has not commented on her post since June or July. And he was met with love.
not all her friends commented or posted for her bday. It is usually your pals that will not see you that will post on your bday. A little tribute bc I can’t be with you. She was with JD for the premiere to celebrate the movie for him and her other friends. But so far, it does not appear she was with him on her bday. Another special night in her life.
Luke is missing!! He did not post her her bday- bc he does not have too. He sees her all the time. He buys her gifts. She loves that camera and I’m sure he bought her something.
luke is a grown man. He does not need attention as much as trolls so desperately want to believe for him.
that Bday is intimate. Dinner for two. Could it be Luke- yes, could be another man- maybe. But at this moment, not JD. Again, he would have let you know.
luke loves pasta. The man loves pasta. It’s seems like an intimate place that’s quiet and cute. Nic is down to earth, this seems like something she would love.
Luke doing a year end photo dump. The man has never done that- to my knowledge or I have read he hasn’t. Some could say, well he was the lead, but he was on bridgerton before this and no year end dump. To me, to me- it seems like he did this as a welcoming to the family of Nic’s friends group.
is Luke in the glassware- not sure on that. That seems far fetched but I’m not going to tell someone they are wrong. That’s not my place.
at a certain point, people have to stop thinking she is with JD bc he is everywhere. People thought this about me and my guy friend. We love each other deeply, but not attracted to one other. Stop thinking bc Jd is there, that is her man. When JD does not do any of the things a boyfriend does. Smile, laugh or any affection. Calling her sweet one is not a clue for romantic love. It’s a term of endearment. In fact, no man, in a relationship would probably use that phrase for his gf or wife. It’s oddly stated.
could I be wrong, yes, but just analyzing clues and keeping the delulu out - things do make sense. Still being rational points more in the direction that she is not with JD.
I love an organized anon who critically thinks.
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dirt-str1der · 11 hours ago
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WHY DID YOU FEEL THE NEED TO TELL ME ABOUT YOUR AROACE SENKU HEADCANON ON MY GAY SENKU AND TRANS REI POST
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Just finished Dr Stone Reboot
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#sorry for yelling at you but i do think you should make your own post#if you want an aroace character ryusui is right there and hes literally aroace flag coloured hes my favourite character hes so awesome#i dont see senku as aroace but i do see him as incredibly pragmatic and amazing at compartmentalising. romance is so far off his list of#priorities that he had never even thought about sex or dating. Hes the kind of guy who is fully able to abstain from earthly pleasures just#because he has more important shit to be doing (science) but meeting tsukasa made him feel some shit for the first time in his life#a guy whos strong and smart and hot and can keep up with him. someone whos a challenge to go up against someone so fun and electric#and this great and awesome guy says the most pathetic things in the world sometimes. its very clear that tsukasa made a deep impression on#senku. outside of romantic affection. senku was gentle to tsuaksa is a way that you dont see with other characters. at hakodate he tells#taiju and yuzuriha they might have to kill tsukasa but after that ? absolutely 0 talk of killing. hearing tsukasa say he has no friends#literally did something to senkus brain i genuinely believe he wanted very badly to be tsukasas friend like outside the context of shipping#just as something that happened in canon its clear that senku was thinking a LOT about tsukasa trying to unpack his motivations and charact#yes tsukasa is a killer but senku insists hes still a good guy. he doesnt write him off as a villain and he does not want to be his enemy#seconds before snapping his neck tsukasa is like maybe you would have been my friend and senku instead of being like hell no/ur delusional#he was like maybe :3 senku also tends to be sarcastically flirty but his pre stone wars dialogue with tsukasa was pushing it (also worth#noting that he was responding in kind to something that tsukasa initiated. whether or not its romantic theres definitely chemistry) when#tsukasa falls senku literally ran to catch him so they could fall together (which could mean nothing) hes tender to tsukasa in a way that h#isnt with the others he literally insists on making small talk with tsukasa on his deathbed because they never got a chance to know each#other and it clearly ate at him. Senku doesnt pursue people unnecessarily. He already had tsukasa in his pocket and he still made the effor#to keep him company so he wouldnt have to die in a silent cave. the guy who wouldnt even let his oldest friends thank him decided that he#wanted to make small talk (MASSIVELY ooc unless you consider... maybe tsukasa matters a lot more to senku than hes openly said...)#i think tsukasa was someone that senku found extremely difficult to ignore. Hes a guy who wants to save everyone and that what makes him so#awesome. romance will Never Ever be his first priority but his vow of celibacy kind of wobbled a little when it came to tsukasa#I see him as arospec homosexual myself because i think he has a very nonstandard view of romance as a whole but i also think that tsukasa#was the first guy ever that he could see himself with and even then if tsuaksa didnt want a relationship then senku would have been happy#watching from a distance after all he put so much effort into keeping tsukasa safe (read vol 12 boichis authors note)#like i fucking get projecting on a character i also fell deeply in love with tksn because me and my best friend dearly wanted to have known#each other earlier and that was such a beautiful and romantic sentiment that i saw reflected in tsukasen thats why i became obsessed#but senku 'strange behaviour' wrt tsuaksa has always stuck out to me ... he never acts like this with anyone else its gotta mean something#i dont think they were ever mortal enemies even at worst. tsukasa still had to bite his tongue not to call senku his friend when they were#in the throes of war. they meant something to each other. romantic or not they meant something very precious to each other
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bellobambino · 2 days ago
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⚠️GUYS, in the last 48 hrs, all social media sites have been TERMINATING MULTIPLE accounts, including here on Tumblr, who post about Luigi! Very soon, his tag might not work as well! Let's make sure we have backups and tag all posts with Lulu, Pep, Peperoni, and everything else you can possibly imagine. They WILL actively try to force us to shut up. They want to CUT our connection with each other because if we have no one to talk to, eventually we'd stop and forget about him. We can not let that happen. I'll send this message to a few other active blogs. Please be aware and be careful.
ok, i don’t believe this, but i do think it’s smart to have an alternate way to communicate with other luigi blogs.
the reason i don’t believe it is because i don’t think his popularity is “growing” and i do not see internet behavior around him to be “dangerous” at all.
nobody is talking about the shooting anymore. nobody is actively calling for more ceos to die anymore.
if you haven’t noticed, all the language and topics surrounding luigi online have a common theme……. simping and memeing.
i’ve been on the internet long enough to know these platforms aren’t staffed enough to take even the more serious and dangerous ideas down.
i can’t imagine thinking luigi blogs pose any sort of legitimate threat to public safety.
but i’ve been wrong before, and the internet does surprise me often.
someone suggested starting a discord. i’m willing to do that!
but i don’t know much about content restrictions there. i would have to just not mention his name anywhere in the setup.
is there a luigi discord anywhere? or a fanfic discord or rpf or anything of the like?
talk to me
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blog-o-meter · 5 hours ago
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House of Whispers (Part 2) - Nicholas Alexander Chavez x fem!reader
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summary: Everything comes to a head and (Y/N) is right in the middle.
warnings: 18+, angst, so much arguing srry not srry, unprotected p in v, fingering, cunnilingus, cheating, cursing, outdoor sex, idk what else honestly
required listening: Already Know by DEGA; Anxious In Venice by Superhumanoids
word count: 25,005
a/n: part 2 is here yay!!!! ik this part picks up abruptly but I truly didn't want to split it up into parts </3 curse you Tumblr! anyway this is the last part so pls enjoy. I had so much fun writing house of whispers, idk like I could clearly imagine everything happening in my head crying emoji you guys already know how much I love dragging shi out for no reason. anyway I have some ideas already for other single-part fics, I just need to write them!
Part 1 | Part 2
reblogs, likes, and replies are greatly appreciated and let me know if you'd like to see more!
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Over the next few days, the tension only grew.
Valerie settled into her role as the center of attention with a practiced ease that made my skin crawl. She was charming and effervescent in front of Nicholas’s mom and the guests, always quick with a compliment or a laugh. But the moment their backs were turned, she shifted, snapping at the staff with thinly veiled disdain and issuing passive-aggressive commands like she was the queen of a castle that wasn’t hers, at least not yet. Not for another few months.
“Do you really think that centerpiece works?” I overheard her ask Maria, her voice syrupy sweet but her eyes hard. “I mean, I guess it’s fine if we’re going for rustic, but I thought we were aiming for elegant. Maybe… try again?”
Maria nodded quickly, her cheeks flushing as she scrambled to adjust the arrangement. I wanted to say something, to call her out, but I knew better. Confrontation wouldn’t end well — not with her. Instead, I bit my tongue, holding onto the simmering anger as I turned away.
Whenever Nicholas wasn’t in the room, she barked orders like a drill sergeant, her tone sharp and impatient. But the moment he returned, she was all soft smiles and doe-eyed adoration. It was a performance, and I hated how good she was at it.
The mistreatment wasn’t lost on Paolo or my mom either. Paolo shot me a glance as we passed through the dining room the next afternoon, his expression tight. “Your friend,” he said under his breath, the word ‘friend’ dripping with sarcasm, “has a real knack for making people feel small.”
“She’s not my friend,” I replied, my tone sharper than intended. Paolo raised an eyebrow but didn’t press the issue.
Maria, on the other hand, was less subtle. Later that evening, as we stood in the kitchen helping prepare dessert, she leaned close, her voice low. “That woman,” she muttered, nodding toward the patio where Valerie was holding court with a group of guests, “is a nightmare. I can’t believe Nicholas is marrying her.”
I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. Instead, I focused on slicing strawberries, the knife trembling slightly in my hand. My mom’s sharp eyes didn’t miss a thing.
Nicholas wasn’t oblivious, either. I caught him watching her more than once, his jaw tightening and his gaze darkening as she dismissed a server or criticized one of the housekeepers. He didn’t say anything, not directly, but the cracks in his façade were growing until he had enough.
The dining room was alive with conversation, the clinking of glasses and the low hum of laughter filling the space. I sat between Paolo and my mom, doing my best to focus on the meal and ignore the weight of Nicholas’s gaze from across the table. Valerie sat beside him, her hand resting possessively on his arm as she chatted animatedly with one of the other guests.
“So, Paolo,” Valerie said suddenly, her voice cutting through the chatter like a blade. “It’s fascinating, really, how someone in your line of work can find time to travel so much. I mean, I suppose it’s easier when you don’t have to worry about running a household.” The smile on her lips didn’t reach her eyes, and the condescension in her tone was unmistakable.
Paolo, to his credit, remained calm. He leaned back in his chair, his expression polite but cool. “It’s all about balance,” he replied smoothly. “I imagine you’d know a lot about that, being so… involved in planning your upcoming nuptials.”
“Balance is key,” he said, his voice deceptively calm as he set his fork down. “Of course, it also helps to treat the people around you with a little respect. Makes things run a lot smoother.”
Valerie blinked, her smile faltering for a split second before she recovered. “Oh, definitely,” she said, her tone overly sweet. “I was just saying how impressive Paolo’s schedule must be. It’s really a compliment.”
Nicholas’s gaze didn’t waver. “It didn’t sound like one.”
The tension at the table was palpable, the other guests suddenly finding excuses to excuse themselves. My mom gave me a knowing look as she stood, her arm brushing Paolo’s. “Let’s grab some coffee in the lounge,” she said brightly, her tone masking the awkwardness in the air. Paolo nodded, rising to follow her and the others out of the room.
I lingered, my heart pounding as I saw Nicholas lean back in his chair, his dark eyes fixed on Valerie. I should have left, but something in his expression made me hesitate. I slipped into the hallway just outside the dining room, pressing myself against the wall as I strained to hear their conversation.
“I don’t know what that was about,” Valerie said, her voice sharp now that the audience was gone. “You didn’t have to embarrass me like that.”
“I didn’t embarrass you,” Nicholas replied evenly. “You did that yourself.”
There was a pause, and I could imagine her bristling, her perfectly manicured nails digging into the tablecloth. “Excuse me?”
Nicholas’s tone was calm, but there was an edge to it that sent a shiver down my spine. “You think I don’t notice the way you talk to people? The way you treat them like they’re beneath you?”
“I don’t—” she started, but he cut her off.
“You do,” he said firmly. “And I’m sick of it. This isn’t the first time, and it’s not going to keep happening.”
Her voice dropped, sharp and cold. “What are you trying to say?”
He didn’t hesitate. “I’m saying you need to start treating people with respect, Valerie.”
Silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating. I held my breath, my pulse racing as I waited for her response.
When she finally spoke, her voice was low and tight with barely contained anger. “I can’t believe you’re taking their side. You’re overreacting,” she snapped. “I was just making conversation.”
“No, you were making digs,” he said sharply. “And you’ve been doing it since we got here.”
I pressed my hand to my chest, my heart pounding as the truth in his words settled over me. I shouldn’t have been listening, but I couldn’t tear myself away.
“I’m not the problem here,” Valerie hissed. “You’re the one who’s been acting different. Distant. Do you think I haven’t noticed?”
Nicholas exhaled sharply, the scrape of his chair audible as he leaned back. “I’ve been distant because I can’t keep pretending like everything’s fine when it’s not.”
My breath caught at the bluntness in his tone. I edged closer to the doorway, my pulse pounding as I waited for her response.
Valerie didn’t miss a beat. “Fine? You think I’m the problem here?” Her voice was sharp but edged with something calculated. “Nicholas, you’ve been distracted since the moment we arrived. And don’t think I haven’t noticed the way your eyes wander.”
There was a pause, heavy with implication. Nicholas didn’t respond immediately, and when he finally did, his voice was low but filled with quiet anger. “Don’t try to twist this.”
“I’m not twisting anything,” she said quickly, her voice softening as if she’d just realized she’d pushed too far. “Look, I know the last few months have been… stressful. Planning the wedding, keeping up appearances—it’s a lot. And maybe I haven’t been as understanding as I should be.”
Her tone shifted, adopting an air of vulnerability. It was a performance, but an effective one. “But that’s no excuse to start attacking me at the dinner table. You humiliated me, Nicholas. In front of your family.”
Nicholas sighed, the sound heavy with frustration. “You’re not the victim here, Valerie. I’m not going to sit back and let you talk to people like they’re beneath you.”
“I wasn’t!” she snapped, but then caught herself. Her next words came softer, more measured. “Maybe it came off wrong. I was just trying to make conversation, Nic. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
The air shifted, her tone almost pleading now. “I know I can be… abrasive sometimes. It’s just the pressure, you know? I want everything to be perfect for us, for the wedding, for your family. I’m trying, Nic. I really am.”
She reached across the table, and I could practically hear the sound of her hand resting on his. “I need you to believe that. To believe in us.”
My chest tightened, a familiar pang of jealousy mingling with anger as I listened to her carefully crafted words. She was diffusing the situation, steering it back under her control, and Nicholas was letting her.
“I don’t know if I believe it anymore,” he said finally, his voice quiet but firm.
Her breath hitched audibly, and I could feel the weight of the silence that followed. Then, she let out a soft, shaky laugh. “You don’t mean that,” she said, her voice trembling just enough to sound sincere. “You’re tired, Nic. And overwhelmed. We both are.”
“I mean it,” Nicholas said, his tone unwavering. “I don’t want to keep pretending.”
Valerie didn’t respond immediately, and when she did, her voice was calm, almost too calm. “Do you really think now is the time to be having this conversation? With your family here? With everyone watching us?”
Nicholas let out a frustrated sigh, but she pressed on. “I get it, Nic. I do. But this isn’t just about us anymore. There’s the baby to think about. Our future.”
I heard Nicholas’s chair scrape against the floor as he stood, the tension in the room thick enough to choke on. His footsteps echoed as he walked away, and I barely had time to duck further into the hallway before he passed by. His expression was dark, his jaw tight, but he didn’t see me.
And he might’ve not seen me then, he sure as hell saw me whenever his eyes weren’t on Valerie.
Every stolen glance, every brush of his hand against mine when no one was looking, sent a jolt through me. He found excuses to slip away from the group, and I wasn’t far behind. It was reckless, dangerous, and impossible to resist.
The first rendezvous after our pool house tryst happened after the dinner incident. I was helping Maria set up the dessert table in the garden. Nicholas appeared out of nowhere, his presence like a storm cloud rolling in.
“(Y/N),” he said quietly, his tone a warning and a plea all at once. Maria glanced between us, her brows knitting in confusion before excusing herself with a polite nod. She left me alone with him, the space suddenly too small despite the open air.
“Yes, Nicholas? Do you need something?” I whispered, my voice sharp as I adjusted a platter of macarons, careful to meet his gaze even though I knew there was nobody around. Though, I was hyper aware of the windows of the house, especially the ones on the second floor, which basically had a front row and unobstructed view of the backyard as opposed to the first floor windows covered in bushes and climbing vines.
“You,” he replied simply, the weight of the word making my hands tremble. I felt him step closer, the heat of his body radiating against my back.
I stiffened, gripping the base of the macaron tower as my eyes flicked up to the second floor, my heart skipping a beat as I caught sight of a shadow passing by one of the second-floor windows. I turned my back to him, walking to the end of the table to fix the tablecloth, “Second floor, left corner window,” I whispered.
Nicholas stilled, his gaze snapping upward in the direction I indicated. He lingered just long enough to catch the subtle movement of the shadow, then turned his head slightly, pretending to admire the flowers lining the garden path.
“Were you always this observant?” he asked, his voice low and steady as he walked toward the far end of the table, keeping his posture casual but a smirk played on the corner of his mouth.
I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, my fingers adjusting the edges of a napkin as though I cared deeply about the table’s presentation. “I had to learn if I was gonna sneak around with you all those years ago,” I teased.
Nicholas chuckled softly, his voice low enough that it wouldn’t carry to the house. “You always were good at keeping me on my toes,” he murmured, his dark eyes catching mine briefly before flicking back to the shadow in the window. “But you’re even better now. More confident.”
I rolled my eyes, keeping my hands busy with a basket of utensils. “Confidence comes with age,” I replied lightly, though my heart raced under his gaze. “Unlike some people, I actually grew up.”
He grinned, a flash of white teeth against his sun-kissed skin. “In more ways than one.” His voice dropped to a whisper, full of teasing heat, as he leaned just close enough that only I could hear.
I nearly dropped the basket, my cheeks heating as I turned my back to him again, pretending to fix the tablecloth. “Oh, my god. You really just said that,” I muttered, though the faint smile tugging at my lips betrayed me.
Nicholas chuckled, the sound low and full of mischief, but I could feel the tension radiating off him as he glanced toward the window again. “I’m just being honest, baby,” he murmured, stepping closer but keeping his distance just enough to avoid suspicion. “Meet me in the pool house in ten minutes,” he whispered.
I hesitated, my pulse quickening at his words. I wanted to say no, to remind him of the risks, but the weight of his dark, steady gaze made it impossible to resist. Every nerve in my body hummed with the memory of his hands on me, his lips tracing lines of fire against my skin.
Without looking at him, I adjusted a fork in the basket, my voice barely a whisper. “You’re insane.”
“I’m desperate,” he countered, his voice low and rough. “Ten minutes.”
Before I could respond, he stepped away, his posture casual as he walked back toward the house. From an outsider’s perspective, it looked as if he’d merely stopped to check on the dessert setup. But the brush of his fingers against mine as he passed sent a jolt through me, a silent promise of what was to come.
I exhaled slowly, gripping the edge of the table to steady myself. The faint movement in the second-floor window was gone, and I prayed whoever had been watching had lost interest. My heart raced as I glanced at the house, the hum of conversation and laughter drifting through the open doors.
Was this worth the risk? Of course it wasn’t. But that hadn’t stopped me before, especially not the other night. Though, to be fair, I was drunk. I’m not sure what excuse I could possibly have now.
After an excruciating ten minutes of debating whether to listen to Nicholas, I excused myself from Maria with a lame reason about needing to check on something. She barely glanced up from the desserts, too preoccupied with arranging the delicate tower of profiteroles to question me. I slipped further into the garden, navigating around the paths of perfectly trimmed bushes, my footsteps light against the stone path as I passed the pool and made my way to the pool house.
The pool house door creaked slightly as I pushed it open, my heart pounding in my chest. The space was dimly lit, the faint glow of indirect light filtering through the windows and casting long shadows across the room. I closed the door behind me, my breath hitching as I turned to find Nicholas already waiting.
He was leaning against the wall, his hands shoved into the pockets of his slacks, his tie loosened and the top buttons of his shirt undone. His dark eyes locked onto mine the moment I stepped inside, the tension between us crackling like a live wire.
“You’re late,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, sending a shiver down my spine.
“You said ten minutes,” I replied, my tone sharper than I intended as I stepped closer. “I waited exactly that long.”
Nicholas pushed off the wall, closing the distance between us in two quick strides. He stopped just in front of me, his towering frame casting a shadow over mine as his dark eyes searched my face. “You drive me fucking crazy, you know that?” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
“You told me once,” I shot back, my voice trembling slightly as I held his gaze.
He smirked, his hands reaching out to grip my hips and pull me closer. “I mean it,” he murmured, his breath warm against my cheek. “Every time I see you, every second I can’t touch you—it’s killing me.”
“Nic,” I started, but he cut me off, his lips crashing into mine with a desperation that made my knees weak. His hands slid up my sides, his fingers brushing against the bare skin beneath my blouse as he pulled me closer, his body pressing against mine.
I melted into him, my hands fisting in his shirt as his mouth claimed mine, hot and demanding. The taste of him, the feel of him, the sheer intensity of his presence — it was intoxicating. I hated how much I wanted him, how easily he could unravel me with just a look, a touch.
“This is insane,” I murmured against his lips, my voice trembling as he kissed his way down my neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there.
“I don’t care,” Nicholas growled, his hands gripping my waist as he backed me toward the couch. “I need you.”
I gasped as the backs of my knees hit the edge of the couch, my body sinking into the cushions as he followed, his weight pressing me down. His lips found mine again, his hands working quickly to unbutton my blouse, his movements rough and desperate.
“We shouldn’t,” I whispered, even as my fingers moved to loosen his tie, my body arching into his.
“We won’t get caught,” he promised, his voice low and full of heat as he quickly ripped his shirt off and let it fall to the floor. His lips brushed against my ear, his breath sending shivers down my spine. “I’ll make it quick.”
I laughed softly, the sound breathless and tinged with disbelief. “You’re unbelievable.”
“You love it,” he shot back, his dark eyes gleaming with mischief as he leaned down to kiss me again, his hands sliding beneath my skirt.
And God help me, he wasn’t wrong.
Other times, we wouldn’t have sex. Yes, we would sneak a kiss here and there, but we’d also find ourselves just enjoying the other’s company and getting to know each other again.
Late one afternoon, after most of the guests had gone off for a wine tasting tour, Nicholas and I found ourselves alone in the garden. It wasn’t planned — or at least, it wasn’t planned on my part. I’d been rearranging the floral arrangements along the fountain when his voice startled me.
“Still playing florist?” he teased, leaning against the wrought-iron gate with his hands in his pockets, the sunlight casting a golden glow on his sharp features. He was devastatingly casual, his shirt rolled up to his elbows and his dark eyes fixed on me like I was the only thing that mattered.
I straightened, forcing myself to meet his gaze, shrugging my shoulders. “You know how much I love details.”
He smirked, pushing off the gate and strolling toward me, his every movement fluid and purposeful. “That’s one of the things I always loved about you,” he said, his voice low but warm. “You notice the things most people overlook.”
I rolled my eyes, turning back to the arrangement in front of me. “Careful, Nicholas. Someone might think you’re flirting.”
He chuckled, the sound deep and familiar, sending a shiver down my spine. “Maybe I am,” he admitted, stopping a few feet away. He tilted his head, watching me carefully as I adjusted the flowers. “Why did you even come back to work here? Last I heard you were off working at some big office.”
I froze for a moment, my fingers hovering over the delicate white roses as his question hung in the air. Finally, I sighed, my shoulders dropping as I adjusted the petals of the centerpiece. “It was an unpaid internship, and it looked like it wasn’t going anywhere. So I thought about going back to school to get my master’s, but I can’t do that without a paying job, now can I?” I asked with a smile.
Nicholas nodded slowly, his gaze softening as he stepped closer, his hands sliding into his pockets. “Makes sense,” he murmured, his voice quiet. “But this place… doesn’t it feel like going backward? You always said you wanted to do bigger things.”
I shrugged, forcing a nonchalant smile as I busied myself with the flowers again. “One step forward, two steps back.”
Nicholas tilted his head, studying me with an intensity that made my heart skip a beat. “That doesn’t sound like you,” he said quietly. “You’re not the kind of person who settles for less than what you want.”
I laughed softly, though it lacked any real humor. “Sometimes life doesn’t give you much of a choice, Nic. You should know that by now,” I cocked an eyebrow, trying to insert a tinge of teasing behind my words to lighten the mood.
He frowned, stepping closer until he was standing beside me, his presence warm and overwhelming. “So what do you want, then?” he asked, his voice low and serious. “What would make you happy?”
I hesitated, my hands stilling over the arrangement. His question lingered in the air between us, heavier than the summer heat. I could feel his gaze on me, piercing and unrelenting, demanding an answer I wasn’t sure I could give.
What did I want? What would make me happy?
The truth was complicated, tangled in the years we’d spent apart, in the choices we’d both made, in the reality of who we were now. And yet, standing there with him so close, the answer felt heartbreakingly simple, but I couldn’t tell him the truth.
I turned to him slowly, meeting his dark, searching eyes. But then, I smiled slowly, “I’ll let you know.”
Nicholas threw his head back in defeat, a smile growing on his face. “You always were good at keeping me on edge,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down my spine.
I shrugged, turning back to the flowers. “Keeps things interesting,” I replied, plucking a stray leaf from the arrangement and tucking it into my apron pocket. The sunlight filtered through the garden, casting dappled shadows on the path between us, but the air felt charged, humming with unspoken words.
Every touch, every stolen moment, every secret conversation felt like a rebellion against the world around us. It was wrong, so wrong, and yet I couldn’t bring myself to stop. Not when he looked at me like I was the only thing that mattered. Not when his touch set my skin on fire.
It became a pattern. Nicholas found me whenever he could — in the garden, in the hallway, even once in the pantry when I was restocking supplies. Each time, he kissed me like he was starving, his hands greedy and demanding as though he was trying to remember every inch of me. Or asking me about what I had been up to since I last saw him all those years ago, as if he wanted to get to know the girl that had escaped his grasp and make up for lost time.
And I let him.
I let him because I was angry.
Angry at Valerie for the way she treated everyone around her, for the way she manipulated Nicholas with her lies and her performance of the perfect fiancée. I told myself it was revenge, that every touch, every kiss, every stolen glance or word was a way of reclaiming some small part of my dignity, that she couldn’t scare me into submitting to her. Angry at the universe for ever separating Nicholas and I in the first place. But most of all, I was angry at myself — for still wanting him, for letting him back in so easily, for pretending I could walk away unscathed when I knew better.
Nicholas wasn’t just my past. He wasn’t just somebody I could brush off and forget. He was in my blood, in my bones, in every broken piece of me that still remembered how it felt to love him like I was still that wide-eyed 18-year-old. And no matter how much I tried to deny it, I wasn’t strong enough to resist him.
I hated the person I was becoming. I had never imagined being the other woman, never thought I could be someone who existed in the shadows, taking stolen moments and pretending they were enough. But I couldn’t stop. Not when Nicholas whispered my name. Not when he looked at me with that raw vulnerability that made my heart ache. Not when his touch felt like the only thing keeping me from falling apart.
I was in too deep, and there was no way out.
One day, I was in the kitchen, wiping down the counters as the smell of fresh coffee filled the air. My mom was nearby, chatting softly with Paolo about the menu for the day, and the house was just starting to stir with the faint sounds of life.
That’s when I heard it — a voice. Hers.
I paused mid-wipe, my ears pricking at the sound of Valerie’s voice drifting from the adjoining hallway. She was speaking low, but there was an urgency to her tone that made me still.
“—can’t keep pushing this off,” she hissed, her words clipped. “I told you I’d handle it. Just give me more time.”
I froze, my heart racing as I glanced toward the kitchen door. She was on the phone, and she wasn’t trying to be overheard, but her voice carried just enough that I could pick out the words.
“I know it’s risky,” she continued, her voice sharp. “But I don’t have another option right now. He’s suspicious as it is.”
Suspicious? My stomach twisted as I stepped closer to the door, careful not to make a sound. She was pacing, her heels clicking softly against the floor as she spoke.
“Because it’s not that simple!” she snapped, her voice rising slightly before she caught herself. “Do you think I want to be in this position? He’s expecting a baby, and I—” She broke off abruptly, her breath hitching audibly.
The blood drained from my face as her words settled over me. Oh my God.
“But I’m not pregnant,” she said, her voice dropping to a whisper, raw with frustration. “Not yet.”
I gripped the edge of the counter, my knuckles white as I tried to process what I’d just heard. Not pregnant. Not yet. She was lying to him — about everything.
My chest tightened, and I took a step back, the tile cool against my bare feet as I tried to catch my breath. The image of her drinking the mimosa, the wine, her tendency to wear very loose clothes to hide a belly that wasn’t really growing flashed through my mind, and suddenly, it all made sense. The evasiveness, the secrecy, the drinking — it was all a façade.
Before I could think better of it, I stepped into the hallway, my voice trembling but firm. “You’re not pregnant?”
Valerie spun around, her eyes wide with shock and then narrowing into something colder. She ended the call with a sharp tap on her phone, slipping it into her pocket as she straightened her posture. “What are you doing here?” she asked, her tone icy.
“You’re not pregnant, are you?” I asked, my voice steadier.
She tilted her head, her lips curving into a tight, forced smile. “That’s none of your concern.”
“It is my concern,” I shot back, anger bubbling to the surface. “You’ve been lying to Nicholas, to everybody. And last week—” I took a step closer, my voice rising. “Oh, my god; it makes so much fucking sense.”
Her expression faltered for a fraction of a second before she composed herself, stepping toward me with calculated grace. “Listen carefully,” she said, her voice low and venomous. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. And I suggest you keep your fucking mouth shut.”
I stared at her, my hands trembling at my sides. I wasn’t sure if it was because of anger or fear. “Why are you lying to him?”
Her jaw tightened, and for a moment, I thought she might answer. But then her lips curled into a smirk, and she leaned in closer, her voice dripping with condescension. “If you think for one second that I’ll let a housemaid ruin everything I’ve worked for, you’re even dumber than you look.”
My heart pounded, but I held my ground. “Is that what this is about? Baby trapping Nicholas so he can marry you?”
Valerie let out a low, humorless laugh, her eyes gleaming with something darker as she stepped even closer, her perfume sharp and overwhelming. “I prefer to think of it as securing my future. Nicholas is my future.”
I clenched my fists at my sides, my nails digging into my palms as I stared at her, my chest heaving. “He’s not your future if it’s built on lies. You’re playing with people’s lives — his, his family’s, your own. Do you even care about him?”
Her smile faltered, and for the briefest moment, I thought I saw a flicker of something real — fear, maybe, or guilt — but it was gone in an instant, replaced by that same steely confidence. “Of course, I care,” she said smoothly, crossing her arms. “But love doesn’t pay the bills.”
Her words were like a slap, the cruelty of them making my stomach turn. “You don’t deserve him,” I said, my voice low but firm. 
She laughed, studying me like I was some curious little animal she could squash under her heel. “And you do?” she asked, her tone sharp and cutting. “Let me save you the trouble, (Y/N) — If you so much as hint at what you think you know, I will make sure you and your mother are out of this house. You’ll lose everything. You want that master’s degree, don’t you? You want your mom to have job security?”
Her words hit me like a slap. She was threatening me, my family. I gulped at her threat. Knowing her, it wasn’t idle. I mean, look at everything she’s done so far to keep up her lie.
She straightened her posture, smoothing an imaginary wrinkle from her dress. “This conversation is over,” she said coolly. “And if you’re smart, you’ll stay away from Nicholas.”
I stared at her, my heart pounding in my chest as a wave of helplessness washed over me. She was lying to him, manipulating him, and there was nothing I could do to stop her — not without risking my future, my mom’s job security.
I stayed rooted to the spot as she walked away, her heels clicking behind her. I stood there for a long moment, staring at the empty hallway where Valerie had disappeared. My chest was tight, anger and helplessness swirling together into a storm I couldn’t contain. Every instinct screamed at me to run to Nicholas, to tell him everything I’d just heard. But her words echoed in my head like a taunt.
You’ll lose everything.
I couldn’t let that happen. Not to my mom. Not after everything she’d done for me, after all the sacrifices she’d made to give me the chance to build a better life, not when she fought for me to have this job again after I quit my internship. My hands clenched into fists at my sides as I forced myself to turn back toward the kitchen.
The moment I stepped through the door, my mom’s gaze snapped to me, her brow furrowing in concern. Paolo, who was busy chopping vegetables, paused mid-motion and glanced up, his sharp eyes narrowing as he took me in.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” my mom said, setting down the dish towel she’d been holding. “Are you feeling okay?”
“I’m fine,” I said quickly, too quickly, the words tumbling out before I could think them through. I busied myself with grabbing a clean dish from the drying rack, avoiding their gazes. “Just needed some air.”
Paolo’s lips pressed into a thin line, his sharp intuition cutting through my flimsy excuse. “You’re pale,” he said, his voice quieter now. “Did something happen?”
“No,” I lied, forcing myself to smile as I turned to face them. “I just needed a break. That’s all.”
My mom didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t press the issue. “Well, sit down if you need to,” she said, her tone softening. “You’ve been working so hard lately.”
I nodded, grateful for the out, and sank into one of the kitchen chairs. My hands trembled slightly as I folded them in my lap, but I clenched them into fists, willing the shaking to stop.
Paolo, however, wasn’t so easily swayed. He leaned against the counter, his sharp gaze fixed on me. “You know,” he said, his tone casual but pointed, “sometimes the truth has a way of coming out, always.”
My stomach twisted, but I kept my expression neutral. “What are you talking about?”
Paolo shrugged, turning back to his cutting board with a nonchalant air. “Just saying.”
I swallowed hard, my mind racing. Did he know something about what happened just now? About what’s been happening between me and Nicholas? Or was he just trying to get me to open up? Either way, I couldn’t risk saying anything — not here, not now, not when my family was in jeopardy.
For the next few days, I kept my head down, doing everything I could to stay out of both Nicholas’s and Valerie’s paths. It wasn’t easy. Nicholas was everywhere—lingering in the garden, passing through the kitchen, even showing up at the greenhouse where I sometimes retreated to arrange flowers. He always seemed to find me, his dark eyes filled with questions I wasn’t ready to answer.
But I avoided him. I avoided everyone.
My mom noticed, of course. She wasn’t the type to pry, but I could feel her watching me, her brow furrowed in quiet concern. Paolo, on the other hand, wasn’t so subtle. He made little comments, dropped hints about secrets and truth, his sharp eyes cutting through every flimsy excuse I gave him.
And then there was Valerie.
She was everywhere, too, but for a different reason. It was like she could sense my hesitation, my fear, and she reveled in it. She was sharper than usual, her barbs aimed with precision at anyone who dared to cross her path. She was always smiling, but it never reached her eyes. When our gazes met across a room, her lips would curl into a smirk that made my stomach twist.
She knew she had me cornered, and she wanted me to remember it.
But the most unnerving thing was the shift between her and Nicholas. He was colder, distant. I noticed the way his jaw tightened when she touched his arm, the way he didn’t lean into her kisses anymore. He didn’t even pretend to laugh at her jokes. It was subtle, but it was there. A tension that simmered just beneath the surface. And then, one evening, it all came to a head.
I was in the library, organizing the collection of vintage books that hadn’t been touched in years. The smell of leather and paper filled the air, the soft light from the desk lamp casting a warm glow over the room. I liked it there. It was quiet, out of the way — a place where I could breathe without feeling like the walls were closing in. But my peace didn’t last long.
The door opened behind me, the sound of footsteps echoing against the hardwood floor. I froze, my hands stilling over the spine of an old copy of Pride and Prejudice. I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. His presence filled the room like a storm cloud, heavy and unrelenting.
“(Y/N).”
His voice was low, rough, and it sent a shiver down my spine. I forced myself to stay calm, to keep my hands steady as I slid the book back into place. “Yes?” I asked, my voice soft as I turned around to face him.
Nicholas glanced over his shoulder and locked the door before crossing the room toward me in a quick few strides.
“What are you doing?” I asked, my voice sharper than I intended, though my heart pounded against my ribs.
He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, Nicholas closed the distance between us until he stood just a foot away. His dark eyes burned with intensity, and the tension rolling off him was palpable. “You’ve been avoiding me,” he said finally, his voice low but firm. 
I swallowed hard, gripping the edge of the bookshelf behind me as though it could anchor me. “I haven’t been avoiding you,” I lied, my voice trembling slightly. “I’ve just been… busy.”
“Don’t bullshit me, (Y/N),” he snapped, his tone cutting through the quiet like a knife. “You won’t look at me, you barely say a word when we’re in the same room, and now you’re hiding out in the library. What the hell is going on?”
My chest tightened, and I glanced away, unable to meet his gaze. “It’s nothing,” I said weakly, my voice barely above a whisper.
Nicholas reached out, his fingers brushing my chin as he tilted my face up, forcing me to look at him. “Talk to me, baby,” he murmured, his voice softer now but no less intense. He leaned in then, peppering my face in soft, tentative kisses, maybe hoping that his kisses might reassure me that I could talk to him, but I couldn’t.
I jerked back slightly, shaking my head as my heart raced. “Nic, stop,” I said, my voice breaking.
His brow furrowed, and the confusion in his dark eyes made my chest ache. I hesitated, my heart racing as I searched his face. He was everything I shouldn’t want, everything I should have let go of years ago. But the truth was, I didn’t want to let go. Our past few trysts were everything I wanted. But then, the image of Valerie flashed inside my mind. Her threats. That evil smile she only reserved for me.
I closed my eyes. “I need you to go back out there,” I whispered, the words slipping out before I could stop them.
Nicholas froze, his breath catching as he stared at me, his dark eyes searching mine like he was trying to make sense of my words. His hands were still on my face, his body pressed so close I could feel the rapid rise and fall of his chest.
“What?” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
I swallowed hard, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “You need to go back out there, Nic,” I said again, my voice trembling but resolute. “We can’t do this anymore,” I whispered as my gaze fell to the floor.
His jaw clenched, and for a moment, I thought he was going to argue, to push back the way he always did when he didn’t get what he wanted. But then his shoulders sagged, and the fight seemed to drain out of him.
“Why?” he asked, his voice cracking. “Why the fuck are you pushing me away?”
I took a shaky breath, every nerve in my body screaming at me to say the truth, to tell him everything. But I couldn’t. The weight of Valerie’s threat loomed over me, heavy and suffocating. My mom’s face flashed in my mind, the way she’d look if she lost everything because of me. I couldn’t risk it.
“You have a fiancée,” I said finally, my voice steadier than I felt. “That’s why—“
Nicholas’s jaw tightened, his dark eyes blazing with frustration. “Don’t give me that. You know how I feel about you, (Y/N). I know how you feel about me, baby. What happened? What changed?”
“What we do… it’s not right,” I said, my hands trembling. “You’re supposed to be marrying—”
“She’s lying to me,” he interrupted, his voice rising. “Fuck, I know she is. I don’t know about what or why, but I know she is.”
I froze, my breath catching as his words sank in. His dark eyes bored into mine, searching for answers I couldn’t give him. Of course, he caught my change in demeanor, he always did.
“Is that what this is about? (Y/N), do you know something? Did she say anything to you?” he asked, his voice softer now but no less intense.
I hesitated, my heart pounding as I weighed my options. I wanted to tell him the truth, to expose Valerie for the liar she was. But her threat hung over me like a guillotine, the weight of what I — my mom — stood to lose pressing down on my chest.
“No,” I whispered finally, my voice breaking.
Nicholas’s expression darkened, his jaw tightening as he stepped back slightly, studying me with a mixture of frustration and disbelief. “Don’t lie to me, (Y/N),” he said, his voice low and sharp. “You’re not this good at hiding things — not from me.”
I wrapped my arms around myself, as if that could shield me from the intensity of his gaze. “I’m not lying,” I said quietly, but the tremor in my voice betrayed me.
His hands clenched into fists at his sides, and for a moment, he just stared at me, his dark eyes burning with unspoken words. Then he let out a sharp exhale, raking a hand through his hair. “She’s gotten to you, hasn’t she?” he asked, his voice softer now, laced with a mix of anger and pain. “What did she say?”
“She didn’t say anything,” I insisted. “I just… I can’t do this anymore, Nic.”
Nicholas froze, his chest rising and falling as he tried to rein in his frustration. He stepped back, running a hand down his face before letting it fall to his side. “You never give up easily, (Y/N). You promised me you wouldn’t give up on us. Why are you doing this?”
I stared at him, my heart breaking under the weight of his plea. But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t risk everything for a truth that might not even set us free.
“Please, Nic,” I said, my voice trembling. “Just let it go, okay?”
Nicholas stared at me, his jaw tight, his eyes filled with a mix of hurt and frustration. For a moment, I thought he was going to argue, to push me for answers. But then he exhaled sharply, stepping back. His gaze lingered, his eyes filled with something I couldn’t quite name, and for a moment, I saw the boy I used to know — the one who used to climb through my bedroom window or sneak me into his house and make me laugh until I couldn’t breathe, the one who made me believe in love, even when it hurt.
“Fine,” he said, his voice clipped. “If that’s how you want it.”
He turned and left without another word, the door clicking shut behind him. The silence that followed was deafening, and I sank into the nearest chair, my head in my hands as the tears finally spilled over.
I had done the right thing. The only thing I could do. But it didn’t feel right. It felt like I’d just lost him all over again.
I stayed there in the silence of the library for what felt like hours, staring blankly at the rows of untouched books. My tears had dried, leaving my cheeks stiff and my eyes sore, but the ache in my chest refused to let up. I had pushed him away, again, but this time it felt irreversible.
Eventually, the muffled hum of voices from the main living areas reminded me that I didn’t have the luxury of hiding forever. I forced myself to stand, smoothing down my skirt and wiping my face as I stepped back into the hallway.
As I made my way toward the living room, my heart sank at the sound of familiar voices drifting toward me. Mrs. Chavez, with her warm, commanding tone, was deep in conversation with an event planner’s crisp voice, discussing fabrics and color schemes. I considered turning around, but it was too late. They were right in my path.
When I entered, Mrs. Chavez glanced up first, her smile jovial, “Oh, (Y/N)! Come look at the concepts for the gender reveal party I’m throwing for Nicholas and Valerie,” she excitedly waved me over.
I hesitated for a moment, the words “gender reveal party” hanging heavy in the air. My feet felt like lead as I moved toward the table where Mrs. Chavez and the planner were seated. She gestured to the seat beside her, her smile warm and inviting, but I could feel my pulse quickening.
“It’s going to be beautiful,” Mrs. Chavez said, her voice brimming with excitement as she tapped on a sketch of a grand garden setup. “I’ve already ordered the custom cake, and the florist is bringing in peonies next week.”
I nodded, my throat tight as I sat down. The sketches in front of me blurred together, my mind racing with the memory of Valerie’s words: “I’m not pregnant. Not yet.”
Mrs. Chavez studied me for a moment, her eyes softening. “You’re usually so excited about parties,” she said gently, tilting her head. “Is everything okay?”
Just then, the planner stepped away, sensing the shift in the room. I forced a smile, nodding quickly. “I’m fine.”
She reached out, resting a hand on mine. “You’ve been working so hard. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate everything you do.”
Her kindness was almost unbearable, the weight of her words pressing down on me like a stone. I swallowed hard, nodding again as I focused on the sketches in front of me.
“You know,” Mrs. Chavez began, her tone thoughtful, “I’ve always admired your strength, (Y/N). Even when you were a teenager, you had this quiet determination about you. It’s one of the reasons I was so happy to have you back here.”
I glanced up at her, surprised by the shift in her tone. Her gaze was warm but piercing, as though she could see right through me.
“I used to think…” She trailed off, her smile faint but knowing. “Well, let’s just say I wouldn’t have been surprised if I might’ve been planning all of this for you in some other lifetime.”
Her words hit me like a tidal wave, the weight of her insinuation crashing over me. My stomach twisted as I struggled to keep my composure, my fingers gripping the edge of the table.
Mrs. Chavez’s smile remained gentle, her tone casual, but her eyes never left mine. “You and Nicholas were always so close back then,” she continued, her voice light but deliberate.
My breath hitched, but I quickly masked it with a laugh that sounded too forced, even to my own ears. “Nicholas was—he’s always been kind to everyone,” I said, my voice shaking slightly.
She hummed thoughtfully, leaning back in her chair as if considering my words. “Kind, yes,” she agreed. “But with you, it was different. I thought it was sweet.”
I felt my heart hammering in my chest, my hands trembling as I tried to focus on the sketches in front of me. “That was a long time ago,” I said quietly, avoiding her gaze.
She reached for her teacup, her movements graceful as ever. “You know, (Y/N), it’s okay to hold onto feelings from the past. Sometimes, they never really leave us.”
My head snapped up at her words, my eyes wide with surprise. For a moment, I saw something in her expression — a flicker of understanding.
“I don’t know what you mean,” I said quickly, the words tumbling out before I could stop them.
She smiled knowingly. “You’re a terrible liar. You always were.” Her tone was gentle, but the weight of her words made it impossible to breathe.
“Mrs. Chavez,” I started, my voice trembling. “I—”
She held up a hand, silencing me with a look that was both kind and firm. “Listen to me, (Y/N),” she said, her voice softening. “Whatever is happening now — whatever has happened before — I want you to know that you are important to this family.”
Her words were like a lifeline I didn’t know I needed, but they also left me feeling exposed, as though she could see every tangled thread of my life unraveling. I swallowed hard, my throat dry, and nodded, though I couldn’t bring myself to meet her gaze.
“Thank you,” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper.
Mrs. Chavez leaned forward slightly, her hands folded neatly on the table as she studied me with an intensity that was both comforting and unnerving. “You’re a good person, (Y/N),” she said softly.
Her words hit me like a tidal wave, the truth in them cutting through my carefully constructed walls. I wanted to tell her everything — about Valerie’s lies, her threats, and the unbearable weight of keeping it all inside. But the fear of what I stood to lose kept me silent.
“I don’t know what to say,” I admitted, my voice trembling as I glanced down at the sketches, unable to look her in the eye.
She reached out, her fingers brushing against mine in a gesture of quiet support. “You don’t have to say anything,” she said gently.
The sincerity in her voice made my chest ache, and for the first time in days, I felt a flicker of hope — a small, fragile light breaking through the darkness. I nodded again, unable to trust my voice as a lump formed in my throat.
Mrs. Chavez smiled, her expression warm and understanding. “Now,” she said, her tone shifting back to its usual brightness, “how about you go and take a breather, hm? I’m gonna need you and your mom’s opinions on balloons later.”
I nodded, managing a small smile despite the turmoil swirling inside me. “Of course, Mrs. Chavez. Thank you.”
Her eyes lingered on me for a moment longer, and I could see the unspoken concern in her gaze. But she didn’t press. Instead, she reached for another sketch, her attention shifting back to the plans in front of her as she called the event planner back inside.
I stood, my legs feeling shaky as I pushed the chair back and stepped away from the table. The walls of the estate suddenly felt too close, the air too thick. I needed to get outside, to breathe, to clear my head.
The garden was quiet when I stepped outside, the hum of activity inside the house fading into the background. I walked aimlessly, my fingers brushing against the hedges as I tried to make sense of the chaos inside me. Mrs. Chavez’s words played on a loop in my mind, her knowing tone, her gentle reassurance.
She knew. Maybe not everything, but enough to suspect something wasn’t right. And yet, instead of judgment, she’d offered me compassion, a lifeline I hadn’t expected.
I stopped by the fountain, the sound of trickling water soothing the storm in my chest. My reflection in the rippling surface looked foreign, my face pale and my eyes clouded with uncertainty. I clenched my fists at my sides, fighting the tears that threatened to spill over.
“Pull it together,” I whispered to myself.
But as much as I tried to convince myself, the weight of the secrets I was carrying felt unbearable. Every moment I stayed silent, I felt like I was betraying not just Nicholas, but also Mrs. Chavez, my mom, and even myself.
I didn’t know how long I stood there, lost in my thoughts, when a voice broke through the silence.
“Shouldn’t you be working?”
I turned sharply, my stomach dropping to my feet. Valerie stood there with her arms crossed, a smirk curling her lips. Her eyes gleamed with a cold satisfaction, as if she’d caught me doing something I shouldn’t.
I threw my head back and looked up at the sky, as if I was pleading the universe for mercy. How many heavy conversations could I have in one day? “What do you want, Valerie?” I asked, my voice sharp.
Valerie let out a soft, mocking laugh, as if she found my frustration amusing. “Relax, (Y/N). I just wanted to remind you how you’ve been doing a pretty good job staying out of my way so far. I’d hate to see you ruin that.”
I took a deep sigh, my shoulders slumping, “Look, I’m not in the mood right now. I get it, okay? I’ll stay out of your way.”
Valerie tilted her head, her smirk widening as if she found my resignation amusing. “Good,” she said, her tone dripping with condescension.
My jaw clenched, anger bubbling beneath the surface, but I forced myself to keep my expression neutral. “Is that all?” I asked, my voice flat.
She pursed her lips in triumph. “For now,” she said before turning on her heel and walking back into the house.
I watched her retreating figure until she disappeared through the tall French doors. My chest felt tight, like a rubber band stretched to its limit, ready to snap. My fists clenched involuntarily at my sides as the rage simmered beneath the surface, threatening to boil over.
I wasn’t sure how much more of this I could take. Every word she spoke was another brick added to the wall I was building around myself, trapping me in a web of lies and threats. And yet, I couldn’t seem to find a way out without everything crumbling around me.
The days leading up to the gender reveal party weren’t any easier. Tension hung thick in the air, palpable enough to choke on. There were a few bumps in the party planning, so Mrs. Chavez was frazzled about the details, having to find a different florist and needing Paolo to take over for the catering company that dropped out of the event at the last possible moment.
I was avoiding Nicholas like the plague, or maybe he was avoiding me, too. I hadn’t really talked to him since our conversation in the library, and if I did, it was polite and professional. Though, I could sense the hurt in his eyes every time I did. Valerie, on the other hand, seemed to thrive on the chaos. She floated through the house with an air of smug confidence, her voice carrying easily as she commanded staff and fussed over every detail of the party.
By the time the day of the party finally arrived, I was on full-on autopilot mode. My nerves were already frayed from days of walking on eggshells and dodging both Nicholas and Valerie, but I didn’t want what had happened to affect my performance at work. So, I plastered on the most polite smile I could muster and got to helping set up for the party.
It was an hour before the allotted time on the invitation. The backyard was a flurry of activity as staff hurried to have everything ready before the first guests could arrive. Paolo and his team of hired underlings were all rushing to get the last of the desserts ready on time. Maria and I were in charge of helping set up all of the tables while the rest of the sub-contracted decorators were being overseen by my mom and the event planner Mrs. Chavez had hired.
So far, the backyard looked just about done. The extravagant pink and blue balloon archways and garland adorned every entryway and path leading guests toward the heart of the event. The main attraction was the centerpiece fountain, transformed into a cascading display of pink and blue hydrangeas, their soft petals spilling into the water like a fairytale come to life.
Strings of fairy lights were woven through the garden’s trellises and wrapped around the ancient oaks, casting a warm, inviting glow as the sun began its slow descent. At the far end of the garden, a dessert table was the picture of decadence. Towering macaron pyramids in alternating hues of pink and blue flanked a massive tiered cake, the top tier covered in edible glitter and crowned with a gold question mark. Miniature cupcakes, chocolate-covered strawberries, and bite-sized éclairs filled the table, their intricate designs reflecting the party’s color scheme.
The smell of fresh blooms mixed with the tantalizing aroma of Paolo’s creations wafting from the catering station. His team was arranging trays of hors d’oeuvres on a smaller table nearby, each bite-sized piece meticulously plated with edible flowers and tiny garnishes.
Around the fountain, small tables were arranged in concentric circles, draped in crisp white linens with golden accents. Each table was adorned with glass vases holding sprays of baby’s breath and roses dyed in pastel shades of pink and blue. The soft notes of instrumental music drifted from hidden speakers, adding to the serene yet celebratory atmosphere.
Maria and I worked silently as we adjusted chairs and made last-minute tweaks to the arrangements, our movements quick and efficient. I paused to straighten the centerpiece on a table closest to the fountain, my fingers brushing against the delicate petals of a pink peony. Despite the beauty surrounding me, the tight knot in my chest refused to loosen. The party was perfect. The party was nothing more than a celebration of a lie.
Across the garden, I caught a glimpse of Nicholas speaking with his mother near the dessert table. He was dressed impeccably, his dark suit tailored to perfection, but his posture was tense, his hands stuffed into his pockets as Mrs. Chavez gestured animatedly. He nodded occasionally, his gaze flickering over the setup before landing on me.
Our eyes met for a fleeting moment as I walked past to make my way toward the kitchen and check on Paolo, and I quickly looked away focusing on my strides, but Mrs. Chavez called out to me. “(Y/N)!”
Nicholas’s gaze awkwardly shifted away as I made my way over to them.
“(Y/N), can you check on the pedestals near the canopy and make sure none of them are easy to knock over?” She asked with a smile. I was about to nod my head and turn to do what she said but she stopped me, “Wait.” She turned her attention to Nicholas, “Sweetie, is Valerie almost back from her nail appointment? Did you ever get that ultrasound from her so we can put it up on the slideshow?”
Nicholas pulled out his phone from his pocket, “She should be on her way. Valerie said she’d call her doctor before she left, but I can call and ask if they sent it over to her. I think I have the doctor’s name somewhere,” he said as he scrolled away on his phone, tapping something, and bringing the phone up to his ear before making his way back inside the house.
Mrs. Chavez turned back to me, “Check the pedestals please.”
I nodded quickly and hurried away, relieved to have a reason to distance myself from Nicholas. As I walked toward the canopy, the tension in my chest only grew tighter. My hands were trembling as I reached the first pedestal, giving it a slight nudge to ensure it was steady. I did the same for the next. The next. And the next.
Some minutes later, Maria joined me, a smile on her face. “The decorations are so pretty, aren’t they?”
I let out a breathy laugh, “I’m more focused on making sure Paolo saves us some leftovers to take home.”
She laughed heartily. “You know he will. These people always prefer the drinks to the food.” Maria’s laughter was a small reprieve, her warm energy cutting through the tension that had been suffocating me all day.
I nodded, trying to match her lightness, even as the weight of everything threatened to pull me under. “Good,” I said, forcing a smile. “I’m staking my claim on those macarons.”
“Smart,” Maria teased. “But don’t let Paolo catch you sneaking them early. He’s in full perfectionist mode right now.”
I chuckled softly, grateful for the distraction as we continued adjusting the pedestals. For a moment, it felt almost normal — like we were just two coworkers prepping for another lavish party. But then, the distant sound of a raised voice shattered the illusion.
“…in the actual fuck are you talking about?!”
My heart stopped. Nicholas’s voice, sharp and unmistakable, carried across the garden. I exchanged a worried glance with Maria, who had frozen mid-reach toward a floral arrangement. We both turned around and saw Nicholas stomping out into the backyard with Valerie following closely behind, her white dress flapping in the air.
Nicholas’s expression was thunderous, his jaw clenched so tightly it looked as if he might crack a tooth. “Valerie, stop lying to me!” he shouted, his voice booming over the chatter of the staff setting up.
Heads turned, tools paused mid-air, and the garden fell eerily silent except for the sharp clip of Valerie’s heels as she tried to keep up with him and the sound of the soft instrumental music, which was quickly deafened by somebody pausing the music from the DJ booth.
“Nicholas, please!” she called after him, her voice desperate but still laced with that performative sweetness that grated on my nerves. “Can we talk about this inside?”
“No, we’re talking about it now,” he snapped, spinning around to face her. His dark eyes burned with anger as he gestured around the lavish setup. “You expect me to stand here and smile for a fucking gender reveal when you’re not even fucking pregnant? Are you out of your goddamn mind?”
Gasps rippled through the staff, whispers breaking out like wildfire. I felt my stomach drop as Valerie froze, her face draining of color before twisting into something uglier — rage and fear warring beneath her perfect façade.
“Nicholas,” she hissed, her tone sharp and low as her eyes darted around at the onlookers. “You’re making a scene.”
“I’m the one making a scene?” Nicholas shot back, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Valerie straightened her posture, her mask slipping back into place as she tried to regain control. “Where’s this even coming from, Nic?”
Nicholas let out a sharp laugh, the sound devoid of humor. “I called your OB/GYN to ask about the ultrasound. They didn’t even know who the fuck I was talking about!” His voice cracked on the last word, the raw betrayal evident in his tone.
Valerie’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second before she quickly composed herself, adopting an air of indignant disbelief. “You must’ve called the wrong office or—“
“Cut the bullshit, Valerie!” Nicholas roared, his voice booming and echoing off the garden walls. His fists clenched at his sides as he took a step closer, his dark eyes blazing. “You’re not fucking pregnant. You let my family do all of this shit for you over a fucking lie!”
The staff froze, their eyes darting between Nicholas and Valerie, the tension so thick it was suffocating. Maria tugged lightly on my arm, silently urging me to step back, but I was rooted to the spot, my pulse thundering in my ears.
Valerie faltered, her perfect composure slipping as her gaze flickered toward the staring crowd. Then, like a cornered animal, she turned the blame outward. “You want to talk about lies?” she spat, her voice trembling as she pointed an accusatory finger in my direction. “Ask her!”
I froze, my breath catching as every eye turned toward me. Nicholas’s gaze snapped to mine, his expression a storm of anger and confusion.
“What the fuck is she talking about?” he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.
“I—” My throat tightened, my words choking on the sheer weight of the moment.
Valerie pressed on, sensing her opportunity. “(Y/N) knew and didn’t say anything,” she continued, her voice gaining strength. Valerie sneered, turning her venomous glare toward me. “She’s known for days, Nicholas. Ask her why she kept her mouth shut.”
Nicholas’s gaze burned into me, a mix of anger and betrayal flashing in his dark eyes. “(Y/N), tell me what she’s talking about.” His voice was tight, barely controlled, but his tone cut through me like a knife.
The air around me felt suffocating, my chest tightening as Nicholas’s eyes bore into mine. Everyone was watching — Maria, the staff, even Paolo who had stepped out of the kitchen with a tray of hors d’oeuvres, his sharp gaze fixed on the unfolding chaos. I opened my mouth, but the words caught in my throat. From behind Nicholas and Valerie, I could see my mom and Mrs. Chavez embracing each other and clutching at their necklaces as they watched everything unfold.
“She threatened me,” I finally choked out, my voice trembling but clear enough to cut through the silence. “She said she’d have my mom and I fired if I said anything… if I stayed near you.”
Nicholas’s expression shifted instantly, his jaw tightening as a muscle in his cheek twitched. He turned his fiery gaze back to Valerie, his voice low and seething. “You threatened her?”
Valerie flinched but quickly recovered, shaking her head as her voice took on a pleading tone. “Nic, listen—”
“No! Don’t ‘Nic’ me,” he growled, stepping closer to her. “You lied about a pregnancy, manipulated my family, and now you’re fucking threatening (Y/N) to keep your dirty little secret? What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Tears welled in Valerie’s eyes as she glanced around, her gaze darting to the stunned faces of the staff. “I didn’t mean for it to get this far,” she said, her voice breaking. “I was scared, okay? You were going to break up with me, and I—I didn’t know what else to do.”
Nicholas laughed, a hollow, bitter sound. “So your solution was to fake a fucking baby? To trap me?”
Valerie clenched her fists at her sides, her perfect composure cracking under the weight of his rage. “You were going to leave me!” she shouted, her voice trembling as tears streamed down her cheeks. “I could feel it. You were slipping away, and I—” She faltered, taking a shaky breath before continuing. “I love you, Nicholas.”
“Well, I never fucking loved you!” Nicholas spat, his voice like a whip.
The words hung in the air like a bomb, silencing even the faint whispers of the staff. Everyone froze, the weight of Nicholas’s confession crashing down like thunder. Valerie staggered back a step as if he’d physically struck her, her face pale and tear-streaked.
“What?” she whispered, her voice trembling, her bravado crumbling into raw, exposed pain.
Nicholas’s jaw tightened, his dark eyes cold and unyielding as he took a deliberate step toward her. “You heard me,” he said, his tone low and cutting. “I. Never. Loved. You. This—” he gestured between them with an almost violent motion—“was over a long fucking time ago.”
Valerie let out a choked sob, her carefully crafted image shattering in real-time. She reached for him, desperation etched across her face. “I—I just wanted to keep you, Nic. You don’t understand. I owe money. I—”
“I don’t give a shit about your excuses,” Nicholas snapped, stepping back out of her reach. “You don’t get to manipulate me or the people I care about. That's disgusting.”
Her face twisted with anger, the tears on her cheeks glistening in the sunlight. “And what about you, huh? Don’t think I didn’t know what was happening,” she spat, spinning around and pointing at me again. “You don’t think it’s disgusting that you were fucking the maid while you still thought I was pregnant?”
Nicholas froze, his body going rigid as the words left Valerie’s mouth. The crowd of staff that had gathered to watch the spectacle collectively held their breath, the air crackling with tension. My heart plummeted, the blood draining from my face as every set of eyes turned to me once more.
Just then, I felt Maria’s hand wrap around mine. Her grip was the only thing tethering me to reality, her presence a small but steady reminder that I wasn’t completely alone in this humiliating nightmare. My throat was dry, my chest tight as I fought to find the words — any words — that could possibly defuse the bomb Valerie had just dropped.
Nicholas’s gaze snapped to her, his eyes blazing with unrestrained fury. “What the fuck did you just say?” His voice was low and dangerous, the kind that made even the boldest person think twice.
“You heard me,” Valerie spat, her lips curling into a venomous smile despite the tears streaking her face. “You think you’re so fucking righteous, Nic, but you’re just as bad as I am. Fucking the help while I was here, pretending to build a life with you?”
Nicholas took a slow step toward her, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. His entire body radiated fury, the kind that felt like it might explode at any second. “Don’t you fucking dare talk about her like that,” he said, his voice a deadly calm that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
“Oh, please,” Valerie sneered, taking a step back but refusing to back down completely. “She knew exactly what she was doing.”
“That’s enough,” Nicholas growled, his voice rising as his self-control started to slip. “You’re not fucking dragging her into this because you can’t handle the fact that you’re a manipulative, lying piece of shit.”
Valerie laughed bitterly, her mascara smudging as the tears continued to flow. “Oh, so now you’re defending her? After everything? God, you’re fucking unbelievable.”
Nicholas closed the gap between them, his face inches from hers. “You’re done,” he said coldly. “Pack your shit and get the fuck out of my house.”
Valerie’s face twisted in rage, her tear-streaked cheeks flushed with anger. “You don’t get to just kick me out like that!” she shouted, her voice cracking. “I’ve been here for you through everything, Nicholas! Your career, your fucking family drama—”
Nicholas’s laugh was cold, sharp as a blade. “Spare me the goddamn speech. You didn’t give a fuck about me. Now, get the fuck out before I call the police.”
Valerie blinked, her bravado faltering for the first time. “You don’t mean that,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “You wouldn’t—“
“Try me,” Nicholas interrupted, his voice low and lethal. His dark eyes were unyielding, daring her to push him further. 
The silence that followed was deafening. Even the sound of the breeze rustling through the garden seemed to fade as everyone watched the scene unfold. Valerie stood frozen, her hands trembling as they instinctively moved toward the massive diamond ring on her finger.
Her face crumpled, a sob escaping her lips as she fumbled to pull the ring from her finger. It slipped off easily, catching the evening sunlight as she held it out to him with trembling hands.
Nicholas didn’t even glance at it. “Keep it. Pawn it. I don’t give a shit. Just get the fuck out.”
Her hand dropped to her side, the ring clenched tightly in her fist as tears streamed down her cheeks. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came. Finally, with a trembling breath, she turned and stalked toward the house, her heels clicking against the stone path like gunshots in the heavy silence.
Nicholas watched her retreating figure, his chest heaving as he tried to rein in his emotions. The tension in his shoulders was palpable, his fists still clenched at his sides. When she disappeared through the doors, he turned, his dark eyes immediately finding mine.
My stomach twisted as his gaze bore into me, an unspoken storm of emotions swirling in his expression—anger, frustration, hurt. He took a step toward me, and I instinctively stepped back, my breath hitching. Maria quickly squeezed my hand then before leaving my side and joining Paolo outside the kitchen door.
“Nicholas, I—”
“Don’t,” he said sharply, his voice cutting through the thick air like a knife. He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a bitter laugh as he paced a few steps away before turning back to face me. “I asked you point-blank if you knew anything. You fucking knew this whole time, and you didn’t tell me.”
My breath hitched as I met his gaze, the weight of his anger like a physical blow. “I—I wanted to,” I stammered, my voice shaking. “But she—“
“Threatened you,” he finished, his voice dripping with disdain. “I heard that the first time. But so what? That was enough to stop you? After everything we’ve been through, (Y/N), you didn’t think you could trust me enough to tell me the fucking truth?”
His words hit me like a slap, and I felt my eyes sting with tears. “It wasn’t just about me,” I said, my voice breaking. “She threatened my mom, Nic. Her job — everything.”
Nicholas’s jaw clenched, and he looked away, his hands on his hips as he took a deep, shaky breath. “You should’ve come to me,” he said finally, his voice quieter but no less strained. “I could’ve protected you.”
“I didn’t want to put you in that position,” I said softly, my voice trembling. “And I didn’t want to make things worse.”
“Worse?” Nicholas turned back to me, his dark eyes filled with raw frustration. “How the fuck could it have been worse than this?” (Y/N), I could’ve handled this days ago if you’d just told me!
My chest ached, and I felt like I couldn’t breathe under the weight of his words. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.
Finally, he let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders sagging as if the fight had drained out of him. “I can’t do this right now,” he muttered, running a hand down his face. 
The staff remained frozen, their eyes wide as they processed what had just unfolded. Nicholas looked around, his chests heaving. “Everybody, go inside please,” he closed his eyes and lazily waved his hand at his side.
Maria, standing near the kitchen door, nodded sharply and began ushering the others inside, herding them like sheep. Paolo shot me a look—concern and something else, maybe pity—before clearing his throat sharply. “You heard him. Let’s move,” he barked, his voice brisk but professional, cutting through the tension like a knife. Slowly, the crowd began to disperse, their footsteps echoing against the stone paths as they filed back into the house.
Nicholas’s gaze stayed locked on me. His gaze was cold, unrelenting, and it made my chest ache in a way I wasn’t prepared for. The last time I’d seen that same look in his eyes, the same mixture of pain and anger, was on the night he left for Los Angeles, when we had argued in this very spot.
The garden was bathed in the warm glow of golden hour, the sunlight filtering through the treetops in soft beams. It was the same garden where Nicholas and I had shared stolen moments, whispered dreams, and a hundred quiet kisses. But it felt different. The world felt too still, too calm, considering the storm brewing between us. I could hear the distant hum of crickets, the rustling of leaves in the breeze, but it all felt muted—like my senses were dulled by the ache in my chest as I stared at him.
Nic stood in front of me, his arms crossed over his chest, his posture tense. His jaw was tight, his dark eyes unreadable, and for the first time since I’d known him, he felt like a stranger.
“So, that’s it?” I asked, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to keep it steady. “You’re just… ending things?”
He sighed, running a hand through his hair, his shoulders sagging slightly. “(Y/N), this isn’t easy for me. You think I want to do this?”
“Then don’t!” I snapped, the words bursting out of me before I could stop them. “If it’s so hard, then don’t fucking do it, Nic! We can make this work.”
His gaze softened for a moment, but then he shook his head, his expression hardening again. “I can’t. I’ve thought about this a hundred different ways, and it always ends the same. If I stay, I’ll end up resenting you. And if I go and we try to hold on, I’ll end up hurting you. Either way, you lose.”
“Let me decide that!” I shouted, my voice breaking. “God, Nicholas, don’t you get it? I don’t care about the risk. I want to try. I want us to work.”
He closed his eyes, exhaling sharply as if trying to steady himself. “You think I don’t want that too?” he said quietly, his voice low but laced with frustration. “I do, (Y/N). I want it so fucking badly it hurts. But I can’t give you what you deserve right now. Not when I’m about to dive headfirst into… all of this.”
“Into what?” I demanded, my chest heaving. “Into auditions and callbacks and God knows what else? Nic, you don’t have to go through that alone. I’m right here. I’m always right here.”
“That’s the problem,” he muttered, almost to himself. He looked at me then, his eyes burning with a mix of anguish and determination. “I don’t want you waiting around for me while I figure my shit out. You deserve more than that.”
“Don’t fucking tell me what I deserve!” I yelled, the tears I’d been holding back finally spilling over. “You’re not doing this for me. You’re doing it for yourself. So don’t stand there and act like you’re some kind of martyr.”
His jaw clenched, and he looked away, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “Maybe I am doing it for myself,” he said finally, his voice quiet but firm. “But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”
I laughed bitterly. “You’ve spent all summer acting like everything was perfect, like—like what we had actually mattered, and two months ago, you told me that I should go with you and now you’re just walking away? Why the fuck did you even bother with me, Nic? Was I just some good fuck to you? Just some hometown fling before you head off to bigger and better things?”
His face twisted with hurt, and he ran a hand through his hair, his frustration palpable. “Don’t you fucking say that,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “You know that’s not what this was. You know you mean more to me than that.”
“Do I?” I challenged, stepping closer until we were inches apart. My chest heaved with anger, my eyes stinging with unshed tears. “Because it sure as hell doesn’t feel like it. It feels like you’ve been stringing me along all summer, letting me fall for you, just so you could rip the rug out from under me when it was convenient.”
Nicholas’s jaw tightened, and he looked away, his shoulders sagging as if the weight of my words had physically hit him. “That’s not what I was trying to do,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Then what the fuck were you trying to do, Nic?” I demanded, my voice cracking as the tears I’d been holding back spilled over. “Because I don’t understand. I don’t understand how you can look at me like I’m your whole world one minute and then tell me you’re leaving the next.”
He sighed, his hands raking through his hair as he took a step back. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said finally, his voice filled with raw emotion. “That’s why I can’t do this. I can’t give you what you deserve right now, (Y/N). Not while I’m chasing this dream. It wouldn’t be fair to you.”
“Fair?” I echoed, my voice trembling with disbelief. “You think this is fair? Breaking my heart the night before you leave?”
“I’d rather break it now than let you waste your time on someone who can’t give you what you need,” he said, his voice tight. “I can’t be what you need right now, (Y/N). I can’t be here. And you deserve better than that.”
“I don’t want better,” I said, my voice breaking as I stepped closer to him, my hands trembling as I reached for his. “I want you. I don’t care if it’s hard or messy. I want to make this work, Nic. Why won’t you let me?”
His hands closed over mine, his grip firm but trembling as he looked down at me, his dark eyes filled with a pain that mirrored my own. “Because you deserve someone who can give you all of himself,” he said softly. “And right now, I can’t. Acting is all I’ve ever wanted, and if I stay here — if I try to juggle this and you — I’m going to end up failing at both.”
I shook my head, the tears streaming down my face as I tried to pull my hands away, but he held on, his grip tightening as if he couldn’t bear to let go. “You don’t get to decide that for me,” I said, my voice trembling with anger and heartbreak. “You don’t get to tell me what I deserve.”
“Maybe I don’t,” he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. “But I’m doing it anyway. Because I love you too much to half-ass this, (Y/N). And I’m scared that if I try to hold on to you while I’m chasing this, I’m going to lose you anyway.”
His words hit me like a punch to the gut, and I felt my knees buckle beneath the weight of them. “You’re already losing me,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.
Nic’s jaw tightened, his eyes shining with unshed tears as he cupped my face in his hands. “I know,” he said, his voice breaking. “And it’s killing me.”
He leaned down, pressing his forehead against mine as his thumbs brushed away my tears. For a moment, we just stood there, the silence between us filled with everything we couldn’t say. And then he kissed me, soft and slow, like he was trying to memorize the feel of me before he walked away.
When he pulled back, I felt like the ground had been ripped out from under me. He let go of my hands, stepping back as if putting distance between us was the only way he could follow through with what he’d just said.
“I hate you,” I mumbled.
Nic flinched as if my words physically hit him, his shoulders sagging under the weight of them. For a moment, he didn’t say anything. He just stood there, his dark brown eyes locked on mine, filled with a mixture of regret and anguish. “I hate me too,” he finally whispered, his voice barely audible but laced with raw honesty.
The admission twisted something inside me. I wanted to scream at him, hit him, anything to make him feel a fraction of the pain that was tearing me apart. But instead, I just stood there, trembling and broken, watching as he turned and walked away.
I stayed in the garden long after he disappeared, the warmth of the summer night doing little to thaw the icy grip around my chest. When I finally found the strength to move, I felt hollow, like he’d taken a piece of me with him when he left.
The sound of Nicholas clearing his throat pulled me back to the present. “You, too, (Y/N),” he spoke softly.
This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. None of this was. I wanted to scream, to plead, to explain. But I couldn’t. The words stuck in my throat, choked by the weight of everything I hadn’t said when it mattered most.
I nodded once, my movements stiff and mechanical. “Okay,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. I turned on my heel and began walking toward the house, the sound of my footsteps on the stone path feeling unnaturally loud in the heavy silence.
And just like that, the party was over before it even started.
As I reached the threshold of the French doors, I hesitated, glancing back over my shoulder. Nicholas was still standing there, his back to me, his hands on his hips as he stared at the ground. He looked… broken. And I hated that I was part of the reason why.
I opened my mouth to say something, but the words died in my throat. What could I possibly say that would make any of this better? So I turned away, stepping inside and letting the door swing shut behind me.
The air inside the house was tense, the energy crackling with the weight of what had just transpired. Staff members bustled about, their voices hushed as they pretended not to glance in my direction. I quickly ducked my head and made my way to the supply closet at the base of the stairs, desperate for a moment of solitude.
Once inside, I shut the door behind me and leaned against it, my chest heaving as I fought to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill over. The small, dimly lit space felt like a sanctuary — a place where I could finally breathe, even if just for a moment.
I sank to the floor, my knees pulling to my chest as I buried my face in my hands. My mind raced with everything that had just happened, every word Nicholas had thrown at me, every ounce of his anger and betrayal. It played on a loop, each moment stabbing at my heart like a knife.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. I wanted to storm out of this house and never look back. But more than anything, I wanted to go back in time and undo everything that had brought me to this moment.
My head jerked up as a faint knock came through the door. For a moment, I froze, my breath caught in my throat.
“Cara mia, are you in there?” Paolo’s voice muffled through.
I hesitated, wiping at my face. I planned on standing, but the door slowly cracked open before opening fully. I looked up to see Paolo, Maria, and my mom all at the door.
Their faces were a mix of concern and quiet understanding. My mom crouched down immediately, her arms opening as she settled on her knees in front of me. I didn’t even hesitate — I crumpled into her embrace, the dam finally breaking as the tears spilled over.
She wrapped me up tightly, her hand cradling the back of my head as I sobbed into her shoulder. “Shh, it’s okay,” she murmured softly, rocking me gently. “Let it out, sweetheart. I’m here.”
Maria crouched next to her, her usually bubbly demeanor replaced with a rare seriousness. “(Y/N), you did the best you could,” she said quietly. “You were trying to protect your mom, protect yourself. Nobody can blame you for that.”
Paolo leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed, but his expression wasn’t stern. It was softer than I’d ever seen it, his sharp features etched with something almost like sympathy. “That bitch,” he muttered, shaking his head. “She’s vile. Manipulative. None of this is on you, sweetie.”
I tried to speak, to explain, but the words got lost in the overwhelming tide of emotion. My mom held me tighter, her voice a soothing murmur as she whispered reassurances I barely registered through the sound of my own sobs.
“I didn’t want this to happen,” I finally choked out, my voice muffled against her shoulder. “I didn’t want to hurt anyone.”
“You didn’t,” my mom said firmly, pulling back just enough to look me in the eyes. Her own were glassy with unshed tears, her expression fierce. “You didn’t hurt anyone. That woman did. She’s the one who lied and threatened and created this mess — not you.”
Maria nodded, placing a hand on my knee. “She’s right. You’re not the villain here, (Y/N). You’re just caught in the middle of something none of us could’ve seen coming.”
Paolo sighed, running a hand through his hair. “And Nicholas,” he added, his tone softening. “He’s hurt and angry now, sì, but he’ll see the truth eventually. Give him time.”
I wiped at my eyes, sniffling as I leaned back against the wall. My mom reached into her pocket and pulled out a tissue, gently dabbing at my cheeks like she used to when I was little. Her touch was so tender, so grounding, that it almost made me cry all over again.
“Take a breath, sweetheart,” she said softly. “You’ve been carrying so much on your shoulders. Let us help you carry it now.”
I nodded weakly, taking a shuddering breath as I tried to calm the storm raging inside me. They stayed with me in the small, cramped closet, their presence a quiet reminder that I wasn’t alone, even in the middle of this nightmare.
After a few minutes, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed down the hallway, followed by the distinct voice of Mrs. Chavez. “Where is she?” she called out, her tone brisk but tinged with worry.
Paolo stepped out into the hall. “In here,” he said quietly, gesturing to the door.
Mrs. Chavez appeared a moment later, her usual grace and composure slightly shaken. Her gaze softened the moment she saw me huddled on the floor, and she crouched down beside my mom, her hand resting gently on my shoulder.
“Oh, darling,” she murmured, her voice warm and soothing. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea she was putting you through this.”
I shook my head, wiping at my eyes again. “It’s not your fault,” I whispered.
Mrs. Chavez’s expression tightened, her jaw clenching as she glanced toward the hallway where the chaos had unfolded. “It is my fault,” she said firmly. “I brought that woman into our lives, and I didn’t see her for what she really was. But that ends today.”
Her words carried a weight, a promise of action that I hadn’t realized I needed to hear. She turned her gaze back to me, her eyes filled with a fierce protectiveness. “You’re not going anywhere, (Y/N),” she said firmly. “You and your mom are part of this family, and no one — not her, not anyone — will take that away from you.”
I nodded, the lump in my throat too big to speak around. My mom squeezed my hand, her own eyes shimmering with gratitude as she glanced at Mrs. Chavez.
“Thank you,” my mom whispered.
Mrs. Chavez offered a small, kind smile before turning back to me. “Take as much time as you need to collect yourself, sweetheart. We’ll handle everything else.”
Her words were a balm, a lifeline in the middle of the chaos. I nodded again, my chest loosening just a fraction as I realized I wasn’t as alone in this as I’d thought.
For a moment, I allowed myself to breathe, to lean into the support being offered to me. My mom’s hand remained on mine, steady and warm, while Maria gave me a reassuring nod, her bright eyes filled with quiet determination. Paolo lingered by the door, his sharp gaze scanning the hallway as though ready to intercept anyone who might disturb this fragile moment of calm.
Mrs. Chavez’s presence was a surprising comfort. I hadn’t expected her to take my side so firmly, especially given everything that had just unraveled. But her unwavering resolve gave me the strength to nod, to whisper, “Okay.”
She straightened, smoothing down her blouse as she glanced back at Paolo. “Gather the staff and let them know they’re dismissed for the evening,” she instructed. “They’ve worked hard enough for tonight; they can come back tomorrow to get rid of everything.”
Paolo nodded curtly, already stepping into the hall to carry out her orders.
“Maria,” Mrs. Chavez continued, her voice softening as she turned to her. “Could you help Mrs. (L/N) with some tea for (Y/N)? I think we all need a moment to regroup.”
Maria gave me a small smile before standing and gesturing to my mom. “Come on, let’s get you both something warm,” she said gently.
My mom hesitated, her grip on my hand tightening slightly as though reluctant to leave me. But I managed a faint smile, squeezing her hand back. “I’ll be okay, Mom,” I said softly. “I promise.”
She searched my face for a moment before nodding, brushing a stray strand of hair from my forehead like she used to when I was a child. “We’ll be right back,” she murmured before standing and following Maria out of the room.
That left me with Mrs. Chavez, who remained crouched beside me, her eyes soft but steady as she studied me.
“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Chavez,” I whispered.
She gave me a sympathetic smile, “For what?”
I wiped away the salty mucus running down my nose with the collar of my uniform, “Nicholas and I…we were—“
Mrs. Chavez raised a hand gently, stopping me mid-sentence. Her expression remained calm, though her eyes softened with understanding. “Darling, stop,” she said quietly, her voice steady but kind. “I’m not here to judge you or demand explanations. I know my son, and I know his heart.” She paused, her gaze holding mine. “Whatever happened between you two, I can see it’s complicated. But I also see the way he looks at you. That’s not something I can ignore.”
My breath caught in my throat as her words sank in. I searched her face, expecting disappointment or anger, but found neither. Instead, there was only warmth and something that almost looked like pity.
“I’m sorry,” I said again, my voice trembling. “I didn’t mean for it to happen this way.”
She let out a soft sigh, reaching out to take my hand in hers. “Life is messy, (Y/N). Love is messy. And sometimes, people find themselves in situations they never intended. That doesn’t make them bad people.” Her thumb brushed over my knuckles in a comforting gesture. “You’re not a bad person, (Y/N).”
Tears welled up in my eyes again, and I looked down at our joined hands, the weight of her words almost too much to bear. “I didn’t want to hurt him,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “Or you, or anyone.”
“I know you didn’t. Trust me, this house has always been full of whispers, lies, and drama. This isn’t the first time, and it certainly won’t be the last,” she said softly.
I nodded slowly, though her words didn’t erase the ache in my chest. “He hates me now,” I whispered, the tears threatening to spill over again.
Mrs. Chavez shook her head, her hand moving to gently tilt my chin up so I’d meet her gaze. “Nicholas doesn’t hate you,” she said, her tone steady and certain. “He’s angry, yes. Hurt. But hate? That boy has loved you for far too long to ever hate you.”
Her words soothed the raw wound inside me. But they also felt like a double-edged sword, a reminder of the complicated, messy love I shared with Nicholas.
“What do I do now?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Mrs. Chavez sighed softly, her thumb brushing against the back of my hand in a reassuring gesture. “You give him time,” she said simply. “Time to process everything, time to heal. And when he’s ready, you show him that you’re still the same girl he fell in love with all those years ago.”
I nodded, unable to speak as the lump in my throat grew tighter. Mrs. Chavez gave my hand one last squeeze before standing, her usual grace and composure returning as she smoothed her blouse once more
“Take as long as you need, okay?” she said, her tone gentle but firm.
I nodded again, my voice still caught somewhere between my chest and my throat. She offered me a small, reassuring smile before turning and leaving the room, her heels clicking softly against the polished floor.
I stayed on the floor for a while after Mrs. Chavez left, her words replaying in my mind. The knot in my chest loosened slightly, replaced by a strange, quiet determination. If she believed in me, if she thought I still had a place here, maybe — just maybe — I could believe it, too.
But it didn’t change the fact that Nicholas was still furious with me. And rightfully so. I had betrayed his trust, whether out of fear or misplaced loyalty to my family, and I couldn’t take that back. All I could do was hope that time, as Mrs. Chavez suggested, might help heal some of the wounds I’d caused.
I pulled myself to my feet, my legs shaky but steady enough to carry me back to the kitchen. The house was quieter now, the hum of activity from earlier replaced by an uneasy calm. When I stepped into the kitchen, my mom and Maria were waiting for me with steaming cups of tea, their expressions a mix of concern and relief.
“Here,” my mom said, pressing a cup into my hands. “Drink this. It’ll help.”
I nodded, taking a sip and letting the warmth spread through me. The tea did help, if only because it gave me something to focus on other than the turmoil swirling inside me.
Maria leaned against the counter, her arms crossed as she studied me. “What now?” she asked, her tone softer than usual.
I shrugged, setting the cup down and wrapping my arms around myself. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “I guess I’ll just… stay out of his way for a while. Give him space.”
Maria nodded slowly, her eyes narrowing slightly as she considered my words. “Maybe. But don’t let him push you away completely. Nicholas is stubborn, but he’s also human.”
My mom reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear like she used to when I was a child. “You’re stronger than you think, sweetheart,” she said softly. “And you’re not alone in this.”
I smiled weakly, grateful for their support even if I didn’t feel entirely deserving of it. “Thanks, Mom,” I murmured.
Paolo poked his head into the kitchen then, his expression as sharp as ever. “No sign of that cagna,” he announced. “I think she left.”
“Good,” Maria muttered, her lips curling into a smirk. “About time she slithered out of here. I never liked her.”
Paolo’s gaze softened slightly as he looked at me. “You okay?”
I nodded, managing a small smile. “I’ll be fine,” I said, though the words felt more like a hope than a certainty.
He gave me a curt nod before disappearing back into the hallway, leaving me alone with my mom and Maria. I took another sip of tea, the warmth settling in my chest like a fragile shield against the storm that still raged inside me.
The next few days were a blur. The grand estate, usually so full of life and activity, felt quieter, the atmosphere heavy with tension. It seemed everyone was tiptoeing around the aftermath of the blowout, from the staff to Mrs. Chavez. Even Paolo had gone unusually silent, though his protective glares whenever someone mentioned Valerie were hard to miss.
I kept my head down, focusing on my tasks and doing my best to avoid Nicholas. I couldn’t face him—not yet. Every time I passed through the garden or the library or even the kitchen, my heart raced, half-expecting him to appear and demand answers I still wasn’t sure how to give.
Maria, ever the bright spot in my day, kept a close watch on me. She had a way of easing the tension with a quick joke or a simple squeeze of my hand when no one was looking. My mom, too, had become even more attentive, her concern etched into her features as she checked on me constantly.
But Nicholas? He was nowhere to be found, on the estate at least. He had gone back to Los Angeles, back to his place. And it didn’t take long for Valerie to end up winning in the end. She had ended up going to every tabloid that would hear her side of the story, and I bet she was paid pretty well for every single one.
“Valerie: ‘Nicholas Alexander Chavez Cheated On Me’”
“A Broken Engagement: The Truth Behind Nicholas Alexander Chavez’s Secret Affair”
“Hollywood Star Nicholas Alexander Chavez Caught in Love Triangle with Fiancée and Maid”
“Inside Nicholas Alexander Chavez’s Explosive Breakup”
The headlines were relentless, splashed across glossy pages and plastered on every celebrity gossip website. Photographs of Nicholas and Valerie at charity galas and red-carpet events were juxtaposed with grainy, invasive shots of the estate, Nicholas looking rough while out running errands, and exclusive images courtesy of Valerie. 
Her version of events dominated the headlines, painting herself as the tragic victim of a heartless actor and his manipulative fling with the “help.” The stories twisted every detail, skewing the truth into a salacious narrative that catered to gossip-hungry readers. The stories even dragged me into the spotlight, labeling me as everything from a conniving gold digger to an innocent pawn in Nicholas’s supposed “games.”
The narrative was clear: Nicholas was the cheating fiancé, Valerie the heartbroken victim, and I — the villain.
I avoided looking at the articles, but it was impossible to ignore the whispers among the staff, the way Paolo slammed down his phone and ranting in Italian in the kitchen after scrolling through social media. My mom banned any newspapers from the house, her protective instincts going into overdrive as she tried to shield me from the worst of it. Even Mrs. Chavez’s normally serene demeanor had shifted into something more fraught, her jaw tight as she made calls and spoke in hushed tones to her lawyer.
Maria, on the other hand, kept tabs on the media frenzy with a quiet determination. “Look, people are starting to turn on her,” she said one morning, setting her phone on the kitchen counter and showing me some tweets.
Apparently, Valerie’s attempts to gain sympathy were backfiring. Social media sleuths dug up old interviews and photos, piecing together a narrative of a woman who had been desperate for fame and willing to do whatever it took to keep it. Even some of the hired staff that were sub-contracted for the gender reveal had come out saying that Valerie was a liar. That’s when comments began flooding in, questioning her story and calling her out for her lies.
“Can’t believe she lied about her pregnancy!”
“Nicholas doesn’t owe her anything if she was faking a baby.”
“Team Nicholas all the way. She’s sketchy AF.”
Still, the damage was done. Nicholas’s name was dragged through the mud, and so was mine. He disappeared from the estate entirely, no doubt retreating to wherever he could escape the relentless glare of the media.
As for me, I kept my head down and worked as much as I could. I stayed out of sight whenever Mrs. Chavez entertained guests, avoided the staff gatherings, and did my best to pretend I wasn’t the unwitting center of a media circus.
But no matter how hard I tried to move on, the weight of it all lingered. Nicholas’s absence was a constant reminder of everything that had gone wrong, every choice I’d made that led to this moment. And every time I glanced at the empty garden where it all came to a head, my chest tightened with a familiar ache.
It wasn’t until almost three weeks later that I finally saw him again. Mrs. Chavez had arranged for Nicholas to return to the estate to finalize some of the logistics with the family lawyers away from the paparazzi stalking him in Los Angeles. I didn’t know if it was intentional on her part or just sheer coincidence that she mentioned it while passing me in the hall, but either way, it felt like my last chance.
By the time his car pulled up to the driveway, the air outside was heavy with the promise of rain, clouds rolling in and casting shadows across the estate. I watched from the kitchen window as Nicholas stepped out, his movements stiff, his shoulders squared like he was bracing himself for a battle. My heart clenched at the sight of him, his face sharper, more guarded than I remembered. He looked tired in his plain white t-shirt and sweatpants, worn down by everything that had unfolded since that disastrous evening.
I stayed frozen as he disappeared into the house, my pulse thundering in my ears. I hadn’t thought beyond this moment — hadn’t planned what I’d say, how I’d approach him. I only knew I couldn’t let him leave again without trying to make things right.
I found him that night sitting by the pool, just as we both liked to do that entire summer all those years ago.
The night air was thick with humidity, the kind that clung to your skin and made every breath feel heavy. The estate was quiet, save for the soft rustling of the trees and the occasional chirp of a cricket. I hesitated at the edge of the garden, the faint glow of the pool lights illuminating Nicholas’s silhouette as he sat at the edge, his feet dangling over the side. A beer rested on the ground next to him, untouched.
I didn’t know what I was expecting — to find him pacing in frustration, to hear him yell at me again, to be met with indifference. But this? The quiet, vulnerable stillness of him caught me off guard.
Taking a deep breath, I stepped forward, the sound of my footsteps muted by the damp grass then shuffled across the concrete. My footsteps were quiet, but he must have heard me because his head tilted slightly, though he didn’t look back. I stopped a few feet away, the pool’s reflection dancing on his face.
“Can I sit?” I asked softly, my voice barely above a whisper.
Nicholas didn’t answer right away. He sat there, staring at the rippling water as if the answer he wanted might emerge from its depths. His jaw tensed, his dark eyes unreadable, but eventually, he nodded once, the movement barely perceptible.
I took it as permission and sank down beside him, keeping a careful distance. The concrete beneath me was cool, the faint smell of chlorine mingling with the earthy scent of petrichor. My heart pounded in my chest as the silence stretched between us, heavy and unyielding.
“I’m sorry,” I said finally, the words trembling as they left my lips. “For not telling you. For all of it. So much could’ve been avoided if I just…” the words died on my tongue.
“Stop,” he interrupted, his voice quiet but firm. He turned to me then, his dark brown eyes piercing in the dim light. “You don’t have to keep apologizing.”
“But I do,” I insisted, my chest tightening as I looked at him. “You’re right. I should’ve told you. I should’ve trusted you, and I didn’t. I let her scare me, and I—”
“Baby,” he said softly, the word wrapping around me like a lifeline. His voice was strained, but the sharp edge it had carried before was gone. “I get it. Okay? I understand why you didn’t tell me.”
I blinked at him, my breath catching. “You… do?”
He nodded, running a hand through his hair, his fingers tugging at the strands as if trying to ground himself. “She’s a fucking piece of work,” he muttered, his gaze flicking back to the water. “And she knew exactly what to say to keep you quiet. She’s done it to me too, in her own way. Let’s just say there was a reason I was gonna break up with her before she…” he paused. “I just didn’t see it until it was too late.”
I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat making it difficult to speak. “That doesn’t excuse what I did,” I whispered. “Or what I didn’t do.”
Nicholas turned to me again, his gaze softer now, though still heavy with emotion. “I’m not saying it does,” he said quietly. “But I also know you were trying to protect your mom, yourself.”
I nodded, my eyes stinging as I tried to hold back tears. “I didn’t want to hurt you, Nic. I swear I didn’t.”
He exhaled sharply, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he reached through the space between us and raked his fingers through the back of my hair, his thumb repeatedly brushing back the hair near my temple. “I know, baby,” he murmured. “And I shouldn’t have screamed at you like that. Especially in front of everyone. Fuck, I was just…”
I closed my eyes, savoring the warmth of his touch and the quiet intimacy of the moment. For the first time in what felt like forever, the tension that had weighed on my chest began to ease.
I bit my lip. “You had every right to be angry, Nic,” I said. “I kept something from you that I shouldn’t have. And I’m sorry.” When I opened my eyes again, Nicholas had scooted closer, closing the distance between us, and was watching me with a tenderness that made my heart ache.
He shook his head, “I’m the one who should be apologizing,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “You didn’t deserve that, (Y/N). Not after everything. I was never mad at you, not really. I was mad at myself. For letting her… I don’t know, take over my life. For letting her manipulate me for so long. I’m mad at her, at this whole fucking situation. But not you, baby. Never you.”
His words broke something inside me, and the tears I’d been holding back spilled over. I let out a shaky breath, leaning into his touch as my chest ached with a mix of relief and regret. “I’m so sorry, Nic,” I whispered. “It’s not your fault,” I said softly. “She’s the one that lied about being pregnant in the first place. It’s not your fault you chose to step up when it mattered.”
Nicholas let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head while brushing away the tears that spilled out of me with his thumb. “Yeah, well, I should’ve known better.”
I nodded, my throat too tight to speak. He pulled me into his arms then, holding me close as I buried my face in his chest. The steady beat of his heart beneath my ear was a balm to my frayed nerves, a reminder that no matter how messy or complicated things got, we still had each other.
For a moment, neither of us spoke, the silence between us heavy but not unbearable. I could feel the warmth of his presence, the steady rhythm of his breathing as he.
“No offense, but I never liked her,” I mumbled, wiping away my boogers, “Even before the fake pregnancy thing.”
His chest rumbled beneath my ear as he let out an audible laugh then, a genuine one. “You don’t say,” Nicholas replied, his tone light but with an edge of teasing. His laughter warmed me, a sound I hadn’t realized I missed so much. His hand stayed on my back, tracing slow, calming circles as he added, “What gave it away? The constant passive-aggressive digs or the terrifyingly fake smile?”
I pulled back slightly, my tears drying as I looked up at him. “Both. And the way she treated everyone like shit.” I sniffled, a wry smile tugging at my lips despite everything. “She wasn’t exactly subtle.”
Nicholas smirked, shaking his head. “You should’ve told her off way sooner.”
“I thought about it,” I admitted, letting out a soft laugh. “But I couldn’t defy the soon-to-be lady of the house now, could I?”
His smirk faltered, his expression softening as he cupped my cheek. “You shouldn’t have had to deal with any of that, baby. Especially not because of me.”
“It wasn’t just because of you,” I said quickly, placing my hand over his. “I stayed because of my mom and Mrs. Chavez. And…” I hesitated, looking down before meeting his gaze again. “And maybe because I wasn’t ready to let go of this place. Of… you.”
Nicholas’s dark eyes searched mine, his thumb brushing softly against my cheek. “You don’t have to let go,” he murmured. “Not of us. Not anymore.”
I blinked up at him, my heart swelling with a fragile hope I hadn’t dared to feel before. “You mean that?”
He nodded, leaning down so his forehead rested against mine. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes, (Y/N). But letting you go back then? That was the worst one, and I’m not making it again.”
My breath caught, the sincerity in his voice and the closeness of his touch grounding me. “I love you, Nic. So much. I never stopped. Never.”
Nicholas exhaled deeply, his fingers sliding into the hair at the nape of my neck as he pulled me closer, his lips brushing softly against my forehead. “I never stopped loving you, too,” he murmured, his voice low and raw with emotion. “But you already knew that,” he smirked ever so slightly.
The rain began to fall in gentle droplets, cool against the humid air, but neither of us moved. The world around us seemed to fade, leaving only the sound of his breathing, the warmth of his body, and the truth we had both been too afraid to confront until now.
Nicholas tilted my chin up with his fingers, his dark brown eyes searching mine. “Can we start over?” he asked finally, his voice soft but filled with quiet hope.
My heart ached at the tenderness in his words, the vulnerability in his gaze. I nodded slowly, a small, shaky smile tugging at my lips.
Nicholas let out a breath, his shoulders relaxing as a faint smile crossed his lips. “Good,” he said softly, his hand reaching up to brush a strand of hair from my face.
His lips found mine then, soft and tentative at first, as though testing the fragile bond between us. But when I didn’t pull away, he deepened the kiss, his hands tightening around my waist as he pulled me flush against him. I melted into him, my fingers clutching at his shirt as the rain grew heavier, soaking us both.
The cool droplets mixed with the heat of his touch, the contrast igniting something wild and desperate within me. Nicholas groaned against my lips, his hands roaming over my back before settling on my hips, pulling me onto his lap. My skirt bunched around my thighs, the wet fabric clinging to my skin, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. All that mattered was him — his lips, his hands, the way he made me feel like the only person in the world.
His hands moved up, gripping the sides of my waist as he kissed me like it was the only thing tethering him to this earth. I shifted in his lap, straddling him, the fabric of my soaked skirt bunching between us. His mouth left mine to trail down my neck, his hot breath sending shivers through me despite the cool rain cascading over us.
“God,” Nicholas murmured against my skin, his voice rough and low. “Do you have any idea how much I’ve missed this? Missed you?”
I didn’t trust my voice to reply, not when his lips were doing things that made coherent thought impossible. Instead, I tilted my head to give him better access, my fingers threading through his damp hair. His hands roamed down, sliding beneath the hem of my shirt and brushing against the bare skin of my back, sending electric jolts straight to my core.
“You’re soaked,” he whispered, his lips pausing just below my ear.
I let out a breathless laugh, threading my fingers through his damp hair as his teeth grazed the sensitive spot on my neck. “Right back at you, baby.”
He pulled back at the word, his hands gripping my hips tighter. “Say that again.”
“Baby,” I whispered, leaning in to press a teasing kiss to his jaw.
He chuckled, low and throaty, the sound vibrating against my skin. I grabbed his face and pulled his lips back to mine. The kiss was urgent now, full of pent-up desire and weeks of tension finally snapping.
His hands gripped my thighs, sliding upward beneath the wet fabric of my skirt until his fingers found the edge of my panties.The sound of the rain grew louder, the rhythmic patter against the pool’s surface blending with our labored breathing and soft moans.
He shifted, guiding me back until I was lying flat against the wet concrete, the cool surface a stark contrast to the heat radiating from both of us. His body covered mine, his weight pressing me down in the most delicious way as his hands continued their exploration, finding every inch of skin he could reach.
“Fuck,” he muttered against my lips, his voice raw with need. “I’ve been dying for this—dying for you.”
My fingers dug into his back as he kissed me with a hunger that felt almost feral, his hands tugging my soaked panties down my legs and tossing them aside. His lips found my collarbone, trailing wet kisses down my chest as his hand slid between my thighs, his touch igniting sparks everywhere he went.
I gasped, my head falling back against the concrete as his fingers explored, teasing and coaxing reactions from me that left me trembling. The rain kept falling, the cool droplets mingling with the heat of our bodies, and the world beyond us faded away.
“I need you to promise me something,” he murmured, his voice low as his lips returned to mine.
“What?” I breathed, my voice shaky as I looked up at him. His dark brown eyes burned with intensity, his face inches from mine.
“Promise me you’ll never keep anything from me again,” he said, his tone soft but firm. “I don’t care what it is. If something’s wrong, if someone’s fucking with you—I need to know.”
My chest ached at the raw vulnerability in his voice, the weight of his words settling heavily between us. “I promise,” I whispered, my hands framing his face. “I won’t keep anything from you ever again. You mean too much to me, Nic.”
His lips crashed into mine again, his relief palpable as he kissed me with a passion that left me breathless. “Good,” he murmured against my mouth. “Because I’d fucking move heaven and earth for you, (Y/N). Do you hear me? You’re my everything.”
My breath hitched at his words, the sheer intensity of his confession leaving me speechless. His forehead rested against mine, his breath mingling with mine as the rain continued to fall in a relentless rhythm around us.
“You’re my everything, too,” I whispered, my voice trembling with emotion.
His hands slid down my body, tracing every curve and hollow as if memorizing me all over again. When his fingers slipped between my thighs, I let out a soft gasp, my hips instinctively rising to meet his touch. He groaned against my lips, his breath hot and ragged as he murmured my name.
“I’ve missed you so much, baby,” he whispered, his forehead still resting against mine as his fingers moved in slow, torturous circles. “Missed the way you feel. The way you taste. The way you look at me like I’m the only man in the world.”
“You are,” I breathed, my voice trembling as I clung to him.
Nicholas froze at my words, his dark eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that made my chest tighten. His fingers stilled for a moment, resting against me as he let out a shaky breath.
My hand came up to cradle his face, my thumb brushing over the sharp line of his jaw. “You’ve always been.”
A low, guttural sound escaped him, and he captured my lips in a searing kiss that left me dizzy. His hands gripped my hips, pulling me flush against him as his mouth claimed mine with a hunger that sent sparks of heat coursing through my body.
The rain fell harder, soaking us both to the skin, but neither of us cared. The world around us disappeared, leaving only the sound of our ragged breathing and the feel of his body pressing against mine. His hands roamed my body, exploring every inch of me as if rediscovering a treasure he thought he’d lost.
He leaned down, his lips trailing over my neck, my collarbone, leaving a fiery path in their wake. My back arched against the wet concrete, and he took the opportunity to push my shirt higher, exposing my damp skin to the cool night air. His lips followed, pressing kisses to my stomach, my ribs, his breath warm and teasing.
“I don’t deserve you,” he said, his voice thick with emotion as he looked up at me. His hands slid beneath my thighs, spreading them as he knelt between my legs. 
Before I could respond, his mouth replaced his fingers, and a cry escaped my lips as he teased me with his tongue. The intensity of his touch, the way he seemed to worship me, made my head spin. My hands tangled in his rain-soaked hair, pulling him closer as he sent wave after wave of pleasure crashing through me.
Nicholas’s hands gripped my hips, his fingers digging into my skin as he pulled me even closer, as if he couldn’t get enough. His mouth moved with a deliberate slowness that drove me wild, each flick of his tongue, every soft, teasing suck a reminder of how much he had missed me, how much he wanted me. The rain blurred my vision, mingling with the tears that slid down my face, but I didn’t care. All that mattered was him and the way he was unraveling me with every touch.
My breath hitched, my thighs trembling against his shoulders. I tried to push up, to chase the feeling building inside me, but his hands held me down firmly. “Not so fast,” he whispered, his lips brushing over my sensitive skin.
I whimpered, my fingers gripping his hair as he continued his slow, torturous rhythm. My body writhed against the slick concrete, a desperate plea for more, for release. But Nicholas took his time, savoring every moment, every reaction he pulled from me.
“Please,” I gasped, my voice breaking as I tugged at his hair. “Nic, I need—”
He lifted his head, his dark eyes locking onto mine. The sight of him—his rain-drenched hair, the water dripping down his sharp jaw, and the raw hunger in his gaze—made my stomach flip. “You need what, baby?” he asked, his voice a low growl. “Tell me.”
“You,” I breathed, the word slipping out before I could think. “I need you, Nic. Please.”
He sat on his knees then, his body towering over mine, rainwater dripping from his hair onto my flushed skin. His wet white shirt clung to every peak and valley of his sculpted muscles, his nipples visible through the soaked fabric.
Nicholas’s gaze darkened as his hands moved to the hem of his soaked shirt, peeling it away and revealing the smooth, golden skin beneath. The rain traced rivulets down his chest, following the sharp contours of his muscles. His body, damp and glistening, hovered over mine like a storm ready to break.
I reached for him, my hands trailing up his arms and across his chest as if grounding myself to him. My fingers skimmed over the moles on his torso — marks I’d memorized long ago. His breath hitched when I touched him, and for a moment, the raw vulnerability in his eyes was almost too much to bear.
I sat up, planting kisses near his naval and working my way upwards. He embraced me then, lifting us both and moving to a nearby chaise lounge so we could escape the unforgiving concrete beneath us.
The rain continued to fall, heavier now, soaking every inch of us as he settled me onto the lounge. He slipped my skirt off and wrapped my legs around him, tugging the waistband of his sweatpants down to reveal his hardened length. His eyes stayed locked on mine as he leaned down, capturing my lips in a kiss that was both tender and full of unspoken urgency.
The rain fell around us, creating a rhythm that matched the rising tension between our bodies. Nicholas pressed his forehead against mine, his hand sliding between us to guide himself to my entrance.
“Slow, please,” I whispered but still audible over the heavy patter of the rain.
Nicholas stilled, his dark eyes locked on mine as he nodded, the raw emotion in his gaze making my chest tighten. He shifted closer, his hands framing my face as if grounding himself. “Slow,” he repeated, his voice hoarse, reverent. “I promise, baby.”
His lips found mine again, softer this time, the urgency giving way to something deeper, more deliberate. I felt the tip of him press against me, a teasing pressure that sent a shiver down my spine. He groaned against my mouth, his hands trembling slightly as he moved with painstaking care, entering me inch by inch.
My breath hitched, my fingers clutching at his shoulders as the stretch filled me, the sensation overwhelming but perfect and everything I needed — what we needed. Nicholas buried his face in the crook of my neck, his breath warm against my rain-soaked skin as he whispered my name, over and over.
I gasped, my body arching into his as he pushed further, his movements slow and deliberate. His lips never left my skin, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along my neck, my collarbone, as if grounding himself in the moment. Each kiss was laced with quiet apologies, murmured words of regret and reassurance that made my heart ache and swell at the same time.
“I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered, his voice rough and trembling as he stilled inside me. His hands gripped my hips, anchoring us together. “I’m so fucking sorry for not fighting for you then, for now.”
Tears mingled with the rain on my face, my fingers threading through his wet hair as I pressed my lips to his temple. “I’m sorry, too,” I whispered back, my voice breaking.
Nicholas groaned softly, his hands trailing up my sides, brushing over my ribs as if trying to remind himself I was real, that we were here. I cupped his face, forcing him to look at me, to see the sincerity in my eyes.
His lips crashed into mine, the kiss tender but filled with a desperate need that made my heart race. Slowly, he began to move, his hips rolling against mine in a rhythm that was agonizingly slow, deliberate, and full of love. Each thrust was a reminder of everything we’d been through, every moment that had brought us to this point. It wasn’t just physical — it was emotional, a reconnection of souls that had been lost in the chaos.
I clung to him, my nails digging into his shoulders as he filled me completely, his movements steady and unhurried. The rain soaked us to the bone, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the way he made me feel — seen, cherished, loved in a way that words couldn’t capture.
Nicholas’s forehead pressed against mine as his rhythm stayed slow, deliberate, and tender, his lips brushing against my temple as though grounding us in the moment. Each stroke sent a shiver through me, a soft gasp escaping my lips as I clung to him. The rain was relentless, but the cool droplets against my overheated skin only heightened every sensation.
“Baby,” he murmured against my ear, his voice raw with emotion, “Do you feel that? How much I fucking love you?”
I nodded, unable to form words, my hands trailing up his rain-slicked back to tangle in his hair. His pace remained torturous, each thrust measured and purposeful. His lips found mine again, soft and searching, and I felt the unspoken apologies in every kiss, the promises in every caress.
His lips claimed mine again, slow and deep, as though trying to pour every ounce of his love and regret into that single kiss. The world around us faded away, the storm intensifying as the rain fell even harder, soaking our bodies as we moved together.
Every roll of his hips, every kiss, every whispered word was a balm to the wounds we’d both carried for far too long. There was no urgency, no desperation — only the deliberate, unyielding connection between us. His hands roamed over my body, his fingers tracing patterns on my skin that made me tremble beneath him.
Our movements were unhurried, each touch, each kiss, deliberate, as though we were weaving the pieces of ourselves back together. Nicholas held me like I was something sacred, his hands cradling my face, his lips brushing over mine with a tenderness that made my chest ache. The rain continued to fall, the steady rhythm against the pool blending with our breaths, our sighs.
He whispered my name like a mantra, his voice thick with emotion. “I love you,” he murmured, his forehead pressing against mine as his hips moved against me in a rhythm that felt like poetry.
Tears blurred my vision. “I love you, too,” I whispered, the words spilling from my lips like a vow. “Always.”
His pace quickened slightly, the pressure building between us as his movements became more purposeful, more insistent. The heat pooling in my core grew, spreading through my body like wildfire as he pushed me closer to the edge. Nicholas’s hand rested on the one I had curled around his hair, intertwining his fingers with mine and pinning my arm above my head.
His lips hovered just above mine, his breath mingling with mine as the rhythm of his hips grew firmer, more insistent. “You’re so fucking beautiful like this,” he murmured, his voice thick and raw, every word vibrating through me. “I can’t believe I almost lost you.”
“Nic…” I gasped, my voice trembling as my body arched beneath him, seeking more, craving everything he had to give. The rain poured down around us, the sound a backdrop to the symphony of our breaths, our moans, the quiet gasps that escaped every time he moved inside me.
A groan tore from his throat, his lips crashing against mine as if he couldn’t stand the distance between us for another second. His tongue swept into my mouth, desperate and demanding, as his pace quickened, each thrust more deliberate, more consuming.
“Fuck, (Y/N),” he growled against my lips, his voice ragged and trembling with restraint.
Nicholas pressed deeper, his grip on my hand tightening as he brought his other hand to my waist, holding me firmly beneath him. His movements grew more purposeful, each thrust sending a jolt of pleasure radiating through my entire body. His control was slipping, and I could feel the tension coiled within him, the sheer effort it took for him to keep his pace measured and deliberate.
“I’m yours,” he growled, his voice low and guttural, each word punctuated by the steady rhythm of his hips. “I’ve always been yours, baby.”
I moaned in response, unable to form coherent words as he pushed me closer to the edge. The rain was relentless, soaking us both as it blurred the lines between where he ended and I began. My fingers curled into his hair, pulling him closer, needing him closer, as if the mere inches between us were unbearable.
Nicholas shifted, his weight pressing into me as he lifted my leg over his shoulder so he could hit deeper and reach that spongy spot inside me until I cried out. His lips moved to my neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin.
“Right there, baby?” Nicholas growled against my neck, his voice thick with desire as his teeth grazed my skin.
“Yes,” I gasped, my hands clutching at his damp shoulders, nails digging into his slick skin. “Oh, my God, Nic. Don’t stop.”
His hips snapped harder, the rhythm deliberate yet overwhelming as he drove into me again and again. The rain hammered down, but the heat between us only grew. Nicholas leaned back just enough to look into my eyes, his face intense and wild, water dripping down his sharp cheekbones.
“You like it when I fuck you like this, baby?” he rasped, his free hand trailing down my waist to grip my thigh. “When I make you scream my name?”
“Yes!” I cried out, my voice raw as my body arched beneath him. Every nerve in my body was alive, every touch, every word pushing me closer to the edge. “Nic, I’m so close.”
“I’ve got you, baby,” he said through gritted teeth, his lips capturing mine in a brutal, possessive kiss. “I always do.”
My nails raked down his back as he thrust harder, deeper, each movement building the pressure inside me until it was unbearable. His growls mixed with my cries, the sound of our bodies moving together in the rain echoing into the night.
“I love watching you like this,” he whispered, his breath hot against my lips as he gazed down at me. “Taking me so perfectly. Fuck, you’re incredible.”
His words pushed me over the edge, my body tightening around him as I shattered. A scream tore from my lips, and he swallowed it with a searing kiss, his own movements growing erratic as he chased his release.
“Baby,” he groaned, his voice breaking as his hips jerked against mine. “Fuck, I’m gonna—”
“Do it,” I gasped, pulling him closer, my legs tightening around him. “I’m yours, Nic. Always.”
With a guttural growl, he buried himself deep, his body shuddering as he spilled inside me, filling me completely. The tension in his shoulders melted away as he collapsed against me, his forehead resting against mine as he fought to catch his breath.
Nicholas wrapped his arms around me, holding me close as we lay tangled together on the lounge chair. For several minutes, neither of us moved, the rain cascading over us like a curtain, shielding us from the world outside as it refused to let up. The weight of everything — the fight, the lies, the media circus — seemed to fade, leaving only the steady rhythm of his breathing and the way his chest rose and fell against mine.
Nicholas’s hands traced gentle patterns along my back, his touch soothing as he pressed a lingering kiss to my damp forehead. “I’m not letting you go again,” he murmured, his voice low and resolute.
I tightened my grip around him, my fingers tracing the curve of his shoulder. “Me neither,” I whispered back. “Not this time.”
He pulled back just enough to look into my eyes, his dark gaze searching mine for any hint of doubt. Whatever he saw there must have reassured him because a soft, almost shy smile tugged at his lips — a glimpse of the Nicholas I had fallen in love with so many years ago.
“Good,” he said, his hand coming up to brush a strand of wet hair from my face. He rested his chin atop my head, his fingers trailing down my back in soothing strokes. “We should probably get inside,” he said after a while, his voice tinged with reluctant amusement. “Before we catch pneumonia.”
“Five more minutes,” I sighed, burying my face in his chest and hugging him tighter.
He chuckled softly, the sound rumbling through his chest. “Seriously, baby, you’re shivering.”
I hadn’t even noticed until he mentioned it. The wind was beginning to pick up, and there was only so much warmth Nicholas’s body could provide in the weather. I nodded, reluctantly pulling away from him slightly. With a grunt, Nicholas pushed himself to his feet, lifting me with him. My legs felt unsteady beneath me, but his arms stayed wrapped securely around my waist, steadying me as he bent down to pick up our discarded clothes.
Nicholas draped his wet shirt over his shoulder and handed me my skirt and panties. I took them silently, my cheeks warming as the reality of what had just happened settled over me. I slipped my panties back on, the damp fabric clinging to me uncomfortably, and stepped into my skirt.
He shrugged on his wet shirt, the fabric clinging to his chest, and bent down to pick up my soaked blouse, carefully opening it by the collar so the fabric wouldn’t drag on my hair as I slipped it on. His touch lingered on my arms for a moment, his dark eyes searching mine. I could see the softness there now, a quiet tenderness that made my chest ache.
Nicholas’s lips quirked into a half-smile, though his concern didn’t waver. “Come on. Let’s get you inside before you freeze.”
He kept an arm wrapped around my waist as we made our way back toward the house, the rain continuing its relentless downpour. My shoes squelched against the wet stone path, and I winced at the uncomfortable sensation of cold fabric clinging to my legs.
“You okay?” he asked, glancing down at me.
I let out a shaky laugh, wrapping my arms around myself. “I’ll survive.”
Nicholas’s arm tightened around me, his body warm against my side despite the chill. “You’re a trooper, baby. But next time? We’re doing this somewhere dry.”
I laughed softly, the sound shaky but real, and leaned into him as we approached the door. We kicked off both of our shoes and socks, leaving them to dry outside.
Nicholas held the door open for me, his hand lingering on the small of my back as I stepped inside. The warmth of the house enveloped us immediately, and I let out a relieved sigh as the shivers that had wracked my body began to subside.The faint hum of the staff’s voices carried from the kitchen, but otherwise, the house was quiet.
The second we stepped inside, dripping wet and shivering from the rain, Mrs. Chavez’s voice cut through the air as she approached us from the kitchen. “Maria, grab some towels and clean clothes!” she called out, her tone brisk but not unkind. “Oh, my god, you two look like a pair of drowned kittens,” she said as she took in our soaked clothes and disheveled appearances.
Maria appeared within a minute or two, thick, fluffy towels in one arm and clean clothes in the other.
“What in the world were you two doing out there?” Mrs. Chavez asked, her eyes wide.
He let out a soft chuckle, reaching for a towel and slinging one towel around his neck, “Just talking.” He grabbed the other towel, unfolding it and holding it open with both hands, and turned his attention to me. “Here, baby,” he spoke softly as he carefully patted my face dry before draping the towel over my back and proceeding to dry my arms.
I stood still, letting Nicholas dry me off, his touch tender and unhurried. He worked his way down my arms and over my shoulders, his brow furrowed in concentration as if this simple act was the most important thing in the world. The towel was warm and soft, a stark contrast to the icy fabric clinging to my skin.
Mrs. Chavez’s eyes lingered on the way Nicholas’s hand rested protectively against me. Her expression softened, and she let out a quiet sigh. There was a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips, and I swore I saw a glimmer of relief in her eyes. “Well, I hope you’ve managed to sort things out,” she said, her tone gentler now. “But next time, perhaps consider talking indoors,” he sighed before walking off.
Maria smirked as she handed me some dry clothes. “Here, sweetheart. You two better warm up before you catch colds. Paolo has some soup on the stove if you’re hungry.”
“Thanks, Maria,” I murmured, clutching the clothes to my chest.
Nicholas gently tugged on my damp blouse. “Here, let me help you.”
I hesitated, my cheeks flushing under Maria’s watchful gaze, but she waved me off with a wink. “I’ll give you two a minute,” she said, turning on her heel and disappearing back into the kitchen.
The room felt quieter without her, the hum of the rain outside the only sound as Nicholas carefully peeled off my wet blouse. His fingers brushed against my skin, and I shivered — not from the cold this time, but from the heat of his touch. His dark eyes stayed locked on mine, and I could see the unspoken emotions swirling in their depths — concern, affection, and something deeper that made my stomach flutter despite the chill.
“You don’t have to,” I murmured, clutching the dry clothes tighter against my chest.
“I want to,” he said softly, his voice low but firm. “You slipped through my fingers once; I’m not letting it happen again.”
The way he said it, so tender and unyielding, left me breathless. He reached for the dry shirt and slipped it over my head, his hands lingering at my waist as he adjusted the hem.
Nicholas crouched in front of me, his hands sliding down to hook themselves around the waistband of my skirt. He pulled it off with care, leaving me standing in just my damp panties. His eyes flicked up to mine, his dark gaze soft but intense.
“Underwear, too?” he hummed.
I hesitated for a heartbeat, my cheeks burning under his gaze. But there was no judgment in his eyes — only concern and a quiet, unwavering devotion that made my heart ache. I looked around to see if anybody was lingering and nodded, my voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah.”
Nicholas’s hands moved with deliberate care, his fingers brushing against my hips as he slid my soaked panties down my legs. The air between us felt charged, every movement laden with unspoken emotion. He kept his eyes on mine, his touch tender and unhurried, as if he were handling something fragile.
Once the damp fabric pooled around my ankles, he picked it up and placed it neatly with the rest of the wet clothes. He reached for the dry sweatpants Maria had provided. “Step in, baby.”
I placed a hand on his shoulder for balance, stepping into the sweatpants as he guided them up my legs, pulling the waistband up. His hands rested lightly on my hips, his thumbs brushing against the fabric as he stood, his face inches from mine. The warmth of the dry fabric against my skin was a welcome relief, but it was the quiet intimacy of the moment that left me breathless.
Nicholas reached out, tucking a strand of damp hair behind my ear. His touch lingered, his dark eyes searching mine. “I’ll always take care of you,” he said, his voice low but steady. “You know that, right?”
Tears prickled at the corners of my eyes, but I blinked them away, nodding as I placed a hand on his chest. “I know.” When he reached for the towel again to dry my hair, I stopped him with a light touch on his wrist. “Your turn,” I said, nodding toward his soaked shirt.
Nicholas smirked, a teasing glint in his eyes. “That’s fair.” He peeled off the wet fabric, his muscles rippling with the motion, and my breath caught at the sight of him — the way the light coming from the chandelier above us highlighted every line and curve.
I reached for the towel he’d left draped around his neck, standing on my tiptoes to dry his hair. He bent slightly to make it easier for me, a playful grin tugging at his lips as I worked. “You’re really getting into this, huh?”
I rolled my eyes, though I couldn’t suppress the smile that tugged at my lips. “Just returning the favor.”
I moved the towel down to dry his arm and torso, carefully working as if I could undo the rain’s lingering touch. Nicholas stood perfectly still, letting me take my time, his dark eyes following my every move. There was a vulnerability in his expression, something unspoken but deeply felt that made my chest tighten.
I grabbed the spare shirt Maria had set aside for him, bunching it up to the collar and shrugging it over Nicholas’s head. As the soft fabric fell into place, I smoothed my hands over his chest, brushing away any wrinkles. Then, I proceed to tug down at his sweatpants, making sure to shield him with my body in case anybody walked in.
Nicholas chuckled softly as he rested his hands on my hips, steadying himself as I worked. His voice was warm and teasing, a soft contrast to the intensity of everything we’d just shared. “If you wanted to undress me again, baby, all you had to do was ask,” he said as he stepped out of his wet bottoms and kicked them off to the side.
I rolled my eyes, trying to ignore the heat that rose in my cheeks. “I’m making sure you don’t catch a cold,” I said matter-of-factly, though my voice trembled slightly.
I crouched down carefully, still wanting to keep Nicholas modest, and held the sweatpants open for him to step into. One leg at a time, he stepped into them. I quickly pulled them up and adjusted the waistband, my fingers lingering at his sides for a moment before stepping back.
His hands settled on my hips as I finished, his touch light but grounding. He looked at me for a moment, and I grew a little bit shy. “Thank you,” he said quietly.
I smiled, a small, lopsided thing. “You’re welcome.”
The playful glint in his eyes was replaced by something deeper, more serious. “You know, I’ve spent nights thinking about this — us taking care of each other.” His voice dropped to a whisper, the weight of his words settling heavily between us. “I thought about what it would be like to have you like this. Not just for a moment, not just for a summer, but always. Waking up next to you. Taking care of you. Letting you take care of me.”
My breath hitched as I searched his eyes, the raw vulnerability in his gaze stealing the words from my lips. I wanted to tell him I’d thought the same thing, dreamed of it, even in the moments when I’d tried to convince myself it was impossible. But the lump in my throat made it impossible to speak.
“You’re all I’ve ever wanted, (Y/N),” he continued, his thumb brushing softly against my hip. “I know I said that I would regret not going to Los Angeles, but I think my biggest regret was ever leaving you behind. And I’m not doing that again. You hear me?”
Tears prickled at the corners of my eyes, but I blinked them away, my hands coming up to rest on his chest. His heart beat steady and strong beneath my palm, a rhythm that grounded me. “I hear you,” I whispered, my voice trembling with the weight of everything I couldn’t say.
His jaw tightened, his dark eyes shining with an intensity that made my chest ache. “Okay,” he said softly, his hands sliding up to cup my face. “Because you’re stuck with me now.”
I let out a watery laugh, the sound trembling but real as my hands gripped the front of his shirt as if to anchor myself to him. Nicholas’s lips found mine again, soft and deliberate, as though sealing our words with a kiss. It wasn’t rushed or desperate — it was steady, full of quiet assurance and unspoken promises. The world around us seemed to fall away, leaving only the warmth of his touch and the steady rhythm of our breathing.
When he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against mine, the corners of his mouth tugged into a small, almost shy smile. He pulled me into his arms, his embrace warm and secure. For the first time in weeks, I felt a sense of peace, as though the storm that had raged between us was finally settling.
“Let’s get that soup,” he murmured after a moment, pressing a kiss to my hair.
I laughed softly against his chest, the sound shaky but genuine then smiled, letting him guide me toward the kitchen.
The rain continued to fall outside, but for the first time, it felt like it wasn’t a storm but a fresh start, washing away everything that had come before. And with Nicholas’s hand warm in mine, I felt like maybe we’d finally found our way back to each other — for good.
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leashybebes · 1 day ago
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i think the reason i am so obsessed with tommy is like... okay, prefacing all of this with "much of this is head canon/extrapolation from canon/my standard over identification with fictional characters. i don't expect other folks to see him the same way". also, as i wrote this i was like "huh, pretty sure i've said this before in slightly different words" so feel free to keep scrolling in search of an original thought i guess lol
i love to love. i love to look after people. i love to give them affection. i love to do things that broadcast loud and clear "hey! hey you! i care about you!" i have always struggled with letting people do the same for me. if anything was going to derail my current relationship early on, it would have been that - without intending to, i take away people's agency by not giving them opportunities to do those things for me. it's a fucked up way to be - to give and give and give, and to stop other people from giving back. it creates an imbalance, an inequality, that means a relationship is not going to last, and if it does last, it'll be bad.
i keep gnawing at a line in a wip i have about tommy post-breakup meeting a new guy and thinking that he likes the guy's sharp edges and that he didn't give buck a chance to show any sharp edges because they spent six months having amazing sex and Being Cute. he was Doing Boyfriend Things. and i don't think it was fake, as such. but i think it was surface. he gave affection and he gave care, and you can give all of those things without every really giving anything of yourself.
i think, given the chance, buck would have been a great partner to tommy. but i don't think, based on what we saw, that he was given that chance. he was given the chance for a soft landing into his first (apparently unexamined) queer relationship. he was given the chance to be adored and to be a little demanding and a little bratty. he was given the chance to be looked after. just going on what we've seen on screen, it doesn't look like he was given the chance to be a partner.
so maybe it wasn't just that tommy thought buck needed/would want to explore other options somewhere down the line (and here's where we veer into head canon territory) but maybe it was that that weird ass conversation made him think - oh, he doesn't see me. oh, i've been here before. and maybe he's been there with someone less adorable than buck. someone who was more intentional about taking and taking, someone who didn't or wouldn't have given back, given the chance. and he knows how that ends. it ends with giving more and more of yourself, and getting less and less back. it ends with someone you thought you loved barely seeing you at all, it ends with you being Someone's Boyfriend. it ends with "tommy? who? yeah, that guy's boyfriend, right?" because you've made yourself into a source of someone else's comfort and security and you look down and realise there's nothing underneath your feet. it ends with resentment that you don't feel like you deserve to feel because you can't be mad that they don't take care of you when you've never showed them that you need taking care of.
so i think that's the tragedy of it for me. it really would have worked - if tommy was able to take. if buck was given a chance to give. there's not anyone to blame, unless you want to go through their lives and their histories and find the things and the people who made them the people who they are.
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altruistichellhound · 1 day ago
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Beastars Boyfriend Head cannons!
I’ll be doing a separate post for the shishigumi. Let me know if you want anyone added to this.
I made this as non specific and gender neutral as I could. I wanted everyone to read this and imagine themselves as whatever person/animal you see yourself as.
Legoshi
Legoshi cannot control his tail around you. Smile at him? furious wagging. Laugh in the sweetest of ways? furious wagging. Kiss him? He’s taken off like a helicopter with how fast his tail is going.
Absolutely loves being close to you! Cannot get enough of your scent, breathes it in more than the air around him.
Territorial of you, anyone looks at you and he’s pissed. Not that you can tell, or anyone else really. Isn’t outright jealous/confrontational unless you are out right disrespected. Absolutely not afraid of getting in fights for you.
When Legoshi is comfortable he will go on and on about his interests. He is so incredibly smart, especially when it comes to bugs. At this point you’re pretty much an entomologists.
Teaches you about the way of the sea and some of the seas language. (You’ll probably be pronouncing it wrong the same as him..)
At the beginning of your relationship he found it hard to communicate his feelings, not he fully able to express his wants and needs. It works very well for the both of you as he is an incredible listener.
Very oblivious…
Loves taking you on dates, especially private ones like picnics and star gazing.
You>Anything else
Louie
If you don’t come from a deer family of high value you’ll be his secret.
He might not show it with words but lord does this man love you.
Endless, and I really mean endless gifts. You offhandedly mention something you like? Oh what’s this, he bought it for you! He’s out and he sees something that reminds him of you, bought it. “Oh that’s cute!” Boom he bought it.
Secretly likes it when you give him massages. Poor man is so stressed out he needs that extra care. He wants a quiet life with you. One where he can be the beastar but come home to your little cozy home where it’s soft and quiet.
Knows you guys simply cannot exist together but pretends like it’s not reality…
Openly jealous, “I don’t like him”. Tells you when he thinks someone has bad intentions. Tries his best to protect you but sometimes it’s slightly misguided.
Acts like he needs to be the dominant one in the relationship but really likes it when you take control.
A balance of all out luxury dinners and simple little cafes you two like to frequent.
If it comes to it he would give up everything, including his relationship with his father; for you.
Gohin
Works out in front of you totally not on purpose. Flexes his muscles when you just happen to be looking at him.
Gohin is such a tease! Doesn’t matter what it is he’ll make fun of you for it. If you don’t like it he’ll tell you it was just a joke but he takes it very seriously and makes sure not to tease you like that again.
Tries his best to keep you away from his work. If you want to help he will tell you no until you persist so much he caves. While he loves you he cares about your safety more, so much training. He will run you until you colapse; he would never forgive himself if something happened to you.
Tea after training/work. He enjoys making you two a drink then sitting and talking about your day between sips.
Even if it doesn’t feel like it I promise you he listens. If he is busy or stressed he will respond with simple, hmm and mhms. However, he heard everyone word and won’t forget what you’ve told him.
At first he’s an awkward kisser, but he’s a quick learner and you’ve never had a better kisser in your life.
You remain the light of his life.
Bill
Childish. Not necessarily a bad thing but sometimes you want to beat him with a stick.
PDA to the max, you’re his and he’s yours. Why shouldn’t the people know? Hold his hand and steal quick kisses please.
Not the best at planning things but he’ll try his best. His goal is to make you happy and have something that will last.
Doesn’t really think about a serious future that much. Not that he doesn’t want to be with you, just that he hasn’t planned ahead enough to really put thought into marriage and a possible family.
This man makes you late to almost everything. Unless it’s the club, he is not on time.
You basically aren’t ever not laughing. He loves to see you smile and squirm around while you laugh so hard your stomach starts to hurt. Surprisingly his jokes are actually funny and land quite well.
All his friends know you very well, all he does is brag about how amazing and hot you are.
Jack
The sweetest man to have ever existed.
Had a crush on you for thee longest time before he either got the courage to talk to you or you finally went up to him.
Wants you to be happy, in his mind he can never do enough for you. He doesn’t want you to be happy, he needs it. If you are sad or angry he tries his darnedest to make cheer you up in a way that suits you the best. Listening, taking you out, leaving you alone, really whatever you need he will give.
Snores. Not loud though, sweet little snores and huffs throughout the night. At this point you can’t sleep without hearing him.
Always smells weirdly good. Like it’s unnatural how he always smells the same and it’s never bad. He could sprint three miles and still smell insanely good. When asked about it he just shrugs.
Constantly blushing! He can’t help it around you, doesn’t matter how long you’ve been together.
Collot
You trim his bangs. He lets you but in all honestly doesn’t trust you after you cut them way too short last time. He won’t tell you that though.
Suspiciously calm, makes him a good listener but sometimes it’s frustrating when he doesn’t get mad with you.
Speaking of anger he hasn’t really gotten mad with you. Maybe a few spats here and there but he has never once raised his voice at you.
Worst sleeper in the world! Moved, kicks, loud sleeper, talks. How did he kick you in the face? You don’t know and neither does he. Scares the crap out of you, “He’s coming.” You proceed to violently shake him until he wakes up and reassures you back to sleep.
Really likes playing video games with you or just doing things quietly next to each other.
Riz
Tries his very best to control himself around you after what happened. Really doesn’t matter to him what species you are he’s constantly afraid of hurting you. Cannot let go of you even if he’s afraid.
You on the other hand aren’t afraid of him. He told you what happened and you understood him. He would never hurt you, or so you think.
Protective as hell. Does not matter who it is no one will ever get to you.
Practically worships you. Would kiss the ground you walk on if he could. Lives to serve you, you want something it’s already been done.
Constant cuddles, he always wants to be the big spoon unless he’s sad. Being around you makes him feel powerful knowing in that moment you are untouchable. When you hold him he feels vulnerable, he hasn’t decided if he’s okay with that feeling yet but he knows that it feels good to be the one being protected for once.
Really likes cooking with you and for you.
Pina
Best way to describe him is annoying, but in the best way possible.
Can, and will, talk your ears off. Constantly yapping about something and expects you to listen. He’s offended if you ask him to give you even a second of silence.
Really loves it when you touch his horns.
Best lashes in the room, better than you and he will constantly brag about this. He tells you he’s joking (he’s not).
He’s just a little bit of a freak, “Eat me.” Doesn’t matter if you’re a carnivore or not. “What the hell Pina?” You can’t tell if he’s being serious…
He knows absolutely everything about you. Some things you didn’t even know about yourself! Not only does he know you but he knows everyone else. Tells you all the best gossip and keeps you up to date with rumors even if you don’t care.
Definitely needs someone to keep up with him.
Melon
Crazy but that’s okay!
Would kill someone if you asked him to. Neighbor pissed you off? Gone. Boss is being a dick? Gone. You tend to abuse this fact.
Okay he does not know how to express his love for you. He’s not even sure if what he’s feeling his love. He knows he oddly doesn’t want to hurt you but is that love? Who knows he’s just going with it.
This relationship is pretty much the definition of playing with fire.
You get to see such a different side to him, quiet and maybe even a little soft. Sad maybe? Is it an act? You don’t know but you’ve decided it’s okay not knowing you. Even when you have that nagging feeling that you should care.
Potentially likes you so much because you are very similar to him.
Won’t ever tell you or anyone this but he likes it when you hold him. He also enjoys that you aren’t afraid of his fangs. Will bite you if you let him.
Would both love and hate you even more if you were a hybrid.
Gosha
Biggest softy with you. Would do absolutely anything for you, to him, you are nothing less than the universe.
Thinks you are the most wonderful thing to have ever graced this world. He loves to show you it too. Random gifts, always brings you fresh flowers before your last ones die.
Evening walks are the best with him. As the sun turns the clouds orange and pink he’ll tell you about his adventures as a youth and his previous dreams of becoming the beastar.
The best support you’ll ever have. He whole heartedly believes that you can do anything you set your heart to. Encouraging your passions and making sure whatever you need to meet your goals is there for you to use.
You’ve never felt so safe than right by his side, and rightfully so. No one would even think to mess with you with him around.
Everyone knows you too are together, he’s made sure of that the way he runs around bragging about you.
Yahya
Tries his best to keep you and work separate. This is not only for your safety for also for him. He never expected or wanted a relationship because of his goals but when he saw you he just couldn’t let you go.
Manages balancing you and protecting the world pretty well. Though, he is in fact just a man like everyone else.
Missed dinners often which turns into arguments which ends in mutual apologies and making up.
He is so tired. Needs you to rub his shoulders and lightly scratch his back.
Can’t really sleep but if you tell him stories or hum softly while playing with his mane he knocks right out.
Keeps you out of the public eye because he knows that if he didn’t you’d have a target on your back. Constant security watching you from afar.
Makes sure to provide a good life for you first and foremost, but also is very focused on changing the world. It is a relationship based on understanding on both ends. Compromises have been made.
You are the closest thing to his heart and constantly on his mind.
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spellwell · 2 days ago
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my neighbor; richard grayson.
dick grayson fluff one-shot
fluff; sfw
summary: Janet has lived across from the richest man in town and his son for years, but seeing as he’s the most popular kid at school they’ve never spoken. When Dick’s teacher tells him he can raise his grades or quit the football team, he’s paired with the smartest girl in school- Janet. After countless study sessions, a friendship begins to blossom. One night while walking home alone she is saved by the infamous Robin, Batman’s sidekick. She becomes infatuated with Robin and can’t seem to stop thinking about him. What happens when she finds out Dick, who she previously never saw herself with might have a secret?
warnings: none. cussing ig. just fluff
universe: random batman and robin
notes: this can be read as this girl Janet that I made up or you can pretend it’s you, totally up to you. either way I thought it was a cute idea :) enjoy. PLEASE SEND IN STORY REQUESTS!!!
words: 5.7k
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Every day I wake up, and go to the same stupid school around all the same stupid classmates that I’ve known my entire life. Due to the high crime rate in Gotham, no body wants to move here, let alone bring their kids and enlist them into Gotham high. Not all of it’s bad, some of the people are better than others but one I can’t stand is Dick Grayson. Every day I sit here and watch as the girls in this class fall all over him, like he’s some kind of king. Sure, he’s conventionally attractive and plays football but what else does he do, really?
Last I heard he’s failing this class, and probably others, what kind of girl would want a guy with no brains?
“Foster! Grayson! Come and see me before the end of class.” The teacher’s crude tone interrupts my thoughts, causing my gaze to snap towards her direction. Just like she had manifested, the bell rings shortly after her announcement, a groan leaving my chest. I heard her correctly, my last name along with… his. I begrudgingly stand to my feet and shuffle in the direction of her desk, hearing Dick’s annoying voice ring as he says good bye to his many wives. Am I in trouble? Why would I be? I pay attention and get straight A’s, something Dick has never done in his life.
His presence beside me is oddly intimidating, but that quickly goes away once he opens his mouth. “What’s up teach? I gotta go to practice.” He says in a rushed tone, causing my eyes to roll. She gives him a stern look, like he’s not happy about what he’s about to hear. “Practice is none of your concern anymore, Richard. You are failing this class along with math, history.” She scans her computer screen and then looks back up at him. “The works Grayson. If you do not get these grades up by the end of this week, you will be cut from the team.” Her voice softens, trying to show him the severity of his situation. A giggle threatened to escape my lips, and it would have if she hadn’t looked at me next. “And you Ms. Foster, would be the perfect tutor.” My eyes fly into a saucer like shape, mouth agape. Dick opens his mouth before I can even think of a response. “So if Janet helps me study, and I pass, I can stay on the team?” His voice is hopeful, excited even.
“If she agrees to it, yes. Until you pass, you’re still cut from practice.” She looks back and forth between us, a sigh leaving my lips. “No, sorry.” I finally get the courage to look up at him. “I don’t have time.” I look back at the teacher with a pretend sad face and shake my head. “You’ll have to find someone else.” I know out of anyone in this class, my grades are the highest, but no way am I helping this jock pass any of his classes.
I begin to exit but Dick is close behind me. “Janet! Janet wait! What do you mean you don’t have time? Ya gotta help me, right?” I swear this guy is actually stupid! He’s been handed everything his entire life hasn’t he? Won’t get the memo. “I’m surprised you even know my name. I’m busy just like I said, sorry I can’t be more help.” I speed up my pace, but his pace simply begins to match my own. “Of course I know your name! We’re neighbors, we’ve been neighbors Janet, oh come on!” Not only am I surprised he knows my name, but that we live in the same neighborhood. I’ve watched this guy grow up, his rich dad always giving him anything and everything he wants, which is something I’ve never had. “Please.” He took my silence as another no, which it was. “Please, I’ll do anything. My dad can pay you, or I could! Oh- uh, I could take you to prom?” This causes me too groan in disgust as we approach the back doors of the school. “I said no, Dick!” My voices raises, hand almost to the door. Before I can reach it and escape, he fills the space between me and it, making me jump back. “Look, I know we’ve never been friends, but you’re super smart and I could really use your help…please?” I look up at him, watching his expression morph into the face he makes when he gets anything he could ever want. I sigh, tapping my foot on the ground. He looks so sad, hopeless even… plus he said please. Oh man, am I really about to say yes? My arms cross as another large sigh escapes my lungs. “Alright, I’ll help you study-“
“No way! Thanks Janet I really needed-“
“On one condition! We meet at your house every day after school for the next two weeks, excluding weekends. No flaking! This is my time you’re using here.”
He nods quickly like an excited dog. “Sounds great, yeah. We start tomorrow?” I nod back, accepting that answer, but refusing any kind of smile. Him on the other hand, has the largest grin iv’e ever seen. “And if you still fail, it’s not my fault! You can’t blame me.” He rolls his eyes in a playful manner. “Yeah, yeah. Thanks again, Janet!” He turns to run away, looking back in my direction one last time.
“Oh and Janet, that was two conditions, not one.”
-
It’s Friday and unfortunately my school day isn’t quite over. Sure I get to leave this building, but it’s the first day of tutoring Grayson. Now I get to leave here and go over to the Wayne mansion, where my new student lives. I was surprised to learn that I actually exist to him. In middle school I moved here with my parents, never having many friends so none were really left behind. I think I secretly hoped I could make a friend upon moving here but the few friends I do have are more quiet and reserved than me. So the idea of going to someone’s house is intimidating but kind of exciting. Especially a house like Bruce Wayne’s, one of the richest men in town. My house is no where near this size and it intimidates me even further as I approach it. I wasn’t sure what to do as I got close to the gate, nerves filling me. A doorbell sat to the right of the gate, my finger raising to press it. I gently press the button, a sound erupting from the device it was connected to. Nothing happens after this and I stand there, slightly embarrassed and confused. That was until I watched Dick ran from the top of the driveway, towards me. He had that big stupid grin he always has, which oddly calmed the nerves. “Hey! I thought I’d come get you.” He said, using the remote in his hand to open the gate. Admittedly, that was nice of him seeing as I wasn’t really sure how to get into this place. “It’s kinda huge, but I promise it’s much more inviting on the inside.” He goes on and on as we go up the long walk way. “Alfred’s pretty cool, don’t let him intimidate you.” Not a word has come from my mouth yet, but Dick seems to talk and talk and talk.
He definitely lied about the inside being more inviting, Mr.Wayne also seems to like keeping it dim in here. “Do you need anything, Master Dick?” Who I assume is Alfred says as Dick ushers me through the front of the house. “No thanks, Alfred! Janet is here to help me study.” Alfred looked in my direction, a small smile appearing on his face. “Welcome Mrs. Foster, it’s nice to have a neighbor over for a change.” This made my eyes widen, the idea of the Wayne estate residents acknowledging me and my families’ presence was surprising. I flash him a small smile before Dick nearly drags me up the stairs like an embarrassed child. The place really is huge and there are so many doors that I can only imagine lead to huge rooms. The house was covered in old things, vintage looking decor like it had been there for a long time. Eventually we made it to what I assume is hie bedroom, much more proper looking than I was expecting. “We have a library, but I thought you’d be more comfortable in here.” He was right, his room may also be huge, but much less intimidating than a large library. “Sorry about Alfred, he’s just excited about about having a guest.” I shake my head, a small chuckle leaving me. “No need to apologize.”
As the studying commenced, I began to realize Dick is actually really nice and that I may have judged him too quickly. He’s also not as dumb as I took him for, especially with numbers. “You’re really not that bad at math, y’know.” I said as I watched him finish his last problem on the homework. “Yeah?” He looked up with his bright blue eyes, a small grin on his lips. “Still not better than you.” I giggled, rolling my eyes. He keeps telling me how smart I am, but really if he applied himself I could see him getting pretty good grades. “So what’s it like, living in such a huge house like this? Is it just you, your father and Alfred?” I ask, watching him write the last number to his final answer. “Yeah it’s just us. This place is amazing, but kind of quiet and lonely sometimes.” He says with a shrug, pushing the paper to my direction on the floor. The more I see into his personal life, the more I understand why he would thrive off the attention at school, which I previously found obnoxious. With this new found understanding, his personality comes off as more endearing. “What about you? I mean what’s your home life like?” I look at him before darting my eyes down to his paper, he got it right. “Your answer is correct.” I said with a smile, going to pull the history book out of my bag. “You didn’t answer the question, that bad huh?” He motions to the book in my hands. “Before you start going on about that, I wanna know more about you, seriously.” I groan and roll my eyes, a small smile threatening to creep onto my cheeks. “It’s nothing special… really. I mean my parents are well off but we aren’t the closest, I focus on my studies mainly.” I shrug my shoulders, opening the book to the page we’ve been working on in class.
He rolls his eyes back at me, sitting back on his hands. “That’s all your gonna tell me, really? I’ll get more out of you by the time we’re done with this studying deal.” He says with a smirk, that classic smirk he uses on all the ladies. Unlike these other girls at school, I do not have the hots for Grayson. Now that I’ve gotten to know him though, I guess I understand the charm.
-
It’s been a week since we started tutoring, and he’s improved his grades a lot. All he really seemed to need, was a little bit more focus and motivation. I’ve decided I like this guy more than I thought I did, maybe he’s not the spoiled brat I assumed him to be. Dick has seemed to take a liking to me, saying hello in the halls and talking my ear off when I go over. He even invited me to the game tonight, to which I said no of course. School games have never been my thing, and Dick Grayson is not going to change that.
I am at the school, however to finish my last online paper of the week. Once a week I stay late and finish any computer work I need, seeing as I hate asking my dad to borrow his work computer over school papers. I always pick nights like this, a big game going on, staff and classmates a like making all tons of racket. It may seem like an odd time to get quiet study time, but this school is terrifying to be nearly alone in and the racket helps fill the overly silent room.
The paper took longer than I had hoped, but once I finished the last sentence it was all worth it. I wasn’t expecting the sky to be so dark as I exited, realizing I took my sweet time tonight. I usually try and leave right before the game ends, but tonight it’s just now ending. I make my way down the path in front of the school, passing all kinds of people I recognize. My eyes trail around to see Dick, standing with three girls that I see follow him around all the time. “Janet!” He seems to notice me as well, motioning in big movements for me to come over. I roll my eyes and make my way over, not exactly wanting to stay and chat. “Our basketball team did great, ya missed it!” He gets so excited about sports, just another thing we don’t have in common. “I think I’ll survive.” He grins at my sarcastic comment, like he always does. “You want a ride home?” He pulls his keys out of his pocket and shakes them, the girls next to him watching the charms dangle like cats. Dick will show that car daddy got him to anyone, he’s obsessed with it and I definitely don’t want that much attention. “Thanks, but no thanks. I’m walking home.” The girls next to him stop glaring and look away, happy with my answer. He gives me a disapproving look, hands flying to his hips. “It’s dark, Janet. Is that really safe?” I mock his stance, hands resting on my hips. “You can take me home, Dickie!” I nearly gag at that nickname, but this blondie always calls him that. He seems to get distracted by this easily, making my escape easy. He goes to speak again, but I swiftly had walked away and I’m sure those girls will take care of him just fine.
The walk home was going to be like any walk home, that was until I stumbled upon an old playground that i’ve loved since I moved here. The thing is falling apart and truly, it should probably be removed but on late night walks like this, I can’t help but gaze at it. The idea of sitting here and getting some much needed me time is great, so I go and take a seat at one of the swings that are barley hanging on. One thing I did not consider, is who ever else may also want to come to this park and if they could be unsafe. The air feels still, maybe even a bit too still. Gotham tends to be loud and polluted with the energies of overpopulation, but tonight it feels empty and calm. My phone begins to ring, the sound making me jump out of my skin. I go to check it, until a figure comes around the corner of a tree and makes me jump out of my skin once more.
Quickly standing up, the phone leaves my mind like it’s not even making sound anymore. The figure wastes no time making it’s way over and I waste no time attempting to get away. “What’s your name?” The mystery figure asks in an odd tone. “Do you wanna hang out?” The figure comes into light, it’s features now apparent to me. My heart gets caught in my throat, a decent sized man now in front of me. He looks disheveled, an evil grin adorning his face. I want to open my mouth and speak, but anxiety has my vocal chords tied. “I’m not gonna hurt you.” He gets closer, speaking again. I don’t trust his words, backing up further than I intended and almost falling over the swing behind me. “I gotta go.” That’s all I could get out as I prepare to book it. We make eye contact for a good amount of time, like he’s trying to intimate me. I take this second to split, but he proves to be faster than me and gets a good hold on my wrist. I scream, body instantly tensing and going into panic mode.
This guy has me, and based on his smirk I can only imagine what he plans to do with me. I struggle against his grip, pulling and tugging until his grip begins to cut off circulation. “Let go of me!” I scream, hearing a laugh erupt from his chest as he watches me struggle. I yank hard enough to send my body onto the concrete beneath me, this guy now preying from above me. I watch as he goes to grab me again, but within a blink he is now also on the ground. The wind gets knocked out of him as he hits the ground, “Grabbing young girls in the middle of the night? Is that really a good look?” A male voice asks, now standing in between me and my predator.
I look up to see my savior, a raven haired masked man. The guy gets up, panicked that he got caught and begins to run away. The masked man grabs something out of his pocket and throws it towards the running villain who instantly goes back down as it reaches him. My eyes go wide, darting from him to the masked man. I quickly get up, scrambling to find the courage to just run away back home but before I can the masked man turns to me. “Are you okay?” He asks, making my paranoia settle. I can’t see his eyes, but his expression is kind. I nod slowly, words still hiding from me. He checks back to see the guy is in fact down, the sharp object he threw sticking out of his ankle. Pained groans leave his mouth as he rolls around and holds his ankle, deserved.
“Did he hurt you?” My attention is brought back to my hero. “No… thanks to you.” I said softly, still shaken up. He smiled at my words, a smile I don’t think I’ll ever forget. He looked me up and down, his concerned expression returning. “You gotta be more careful, there’s some serious creeps out at night.” He looked around and then back at me. “I’ll take care of this guy, go home.” His voice was sweet but stern, just like the rest of him. I stare for a moment, looking between him and the guy on the ground. “Okay…” I finally find the words, “thanks again…” my voice soft, blushing at the grin he holds on his cheeks. I flash him the smallest grin before running from the scene, just glad to be okay.
I watched my back as I got home, making sure to avoid any more confrontation for tonight. Who was that guy? I couldn’t see beyond his mask. All I know, is that he will forever be my hero.
-
It’s now Monday and the idea of telling Dick he was right made my stomach turn. I should have let him drive me home, but a small part of me is glad I didn’t. After being saved by the infamous Robin, Batman’s side kick, I have a new idea of what a man should be like. No seriously, he’s all I could think about all weekend. The male love interests in my books have all become him and any cute boy at school now disinterests me. I’ve known of the vigilante and his side kick for a while now seeing as well… everyone here knows of Batman and Robin. I however never thought I’d find myself being saved by either of them, especially the cute sidekick. The sweet smile on his face, the confident way he holds himself, really everything about him seems so intoxicating. I’d be lying if I said school was on my mind at all today, like… at all. Of course I didn’t tell my parents, or anyone for that matter, I don’t want anyone knowing I put myself in such a risky situation. But Robin knows, and now I can’t help but wonder who on earth he could be.
“Earth to Janet!” Dick’s loud, obnoxious voice broke through my day dreams, making me realize I’m currently sitting on his bedroom floor. “C’mon, Jan! We got a test tomorrow and you’ve barley been here for the last hour. What are you thinking about?” I look up from the floor and to him. He’s leaning back against the bed frame, a puzzled look on his face. “I mean, usually you’re yelling at me to pay attention.” He chews on the gum in his mouth, a large smack sounding every few minutes. “Sorry Dick, I just have a lot on my mind.” The idea of telling him about my mystery savior scares me, but maybe he can help me figure out who it is. “Oh yeah? I didn’t know anything could be more important to you than studying.” I give him a playful glare, deciding to glaze over his comment. “Something crazy happened to me Friday night.”
This caused him to perk up, instantly sitting up. “Crazy? Like what?” He blinked a few times, watching me react hesitantly. “I can see the wheels turning Jan, what happened?” He practically jumped up and down in his seat, obviously intrigued. I sigh, leaning in like I’m about to reveal a huge secret. “I got attacked by some psycho at the park…” His eyed went wide, mouth opening to say I told you so I assume but I cut him off. “He tried to hurt me… I mean I really thought I was a goner. But Robin showed up!” I could feel my own eyes light up, lips threatening to yank a grin onto my cheeks. “He saved me!” He raised a brow, the same puzzled look still adorning his face. “Robin? Like Batman’s sidekick Robin?” I nod furiously, adjusting in my seat on the floor. “Yes! He flew right in and saved me. I mean really Dick, you should have seen the guys face, he was flabbergasted!” This made us both chuckle, before he got real serious again.
“I’m glad he was there to save you, but what did I tell you about walking home at night… alone?! Seriously Jan, you could have been seriously hurt.” I roll my eyes, groaning at he sound of him shrilling. “I know, I know-“
“And who even is this Robin guy? I mean isn’t he a vigilante?” I quickly shake my head at the idea of Robin being any less than a masked hero. “No, no! He’s a hero… he’s my hero. I mean, he saved me!” A small grin appeared on his face, for why I’m not sure but he seemed to like that answer. “Just be careful…” He says soft, both of our eyes darting down to the book in front of us. He’s right, I haven’t been very focused on our study course today. A small smile sits on my cheeks as I think of Robin and how he saved me, reliving it as I told the story to Dick. “Soooo… you got a thing for this guy or something? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile this much.” My eyes dart up from the page, a crimson blush taking over my entire face. “A what-“
He smirked, closing the book and accepting his fate of no studying today. “A crush, you have a crush.” A shocked sound leaves my mouth, if this booknwasnt so heavy, I’d throw it at him. “He saved my life!” He laughs, causing a giggle to also erupt from me. “Hey, I get it, don’t gotta make excuses with me.” I laugh harder, embarrassed but he just smiles down at me.
“If you figure out who he is, can I come to the wedding?”
-
A month later
After school activities had gone back to normal after me and Dick’s study agreement was over. He finally passed the classes he was in trouble for and got to return to the team. We may not hang out every day anymore, but I was surprised to see him still talk to me. Some days, he even has me come over to help with homework. Dick is very smart, it’s not that he can’t do it, he just really needs help focusing sometimes.
As for my crush on Robin, nothing has come of that. I did as much research as possible, or at least to my knowledge and this guy has done a really good job of concealing his identity. I’ve seen him a few more times, in the middle of some crime fighting with Batman in the city but haven’t tried to approach him. Really, all hopes of ever finding him have left me and I’m happy with that. I’ve spent my whole life so far alone, and it will continue that way, it’s not like anyone would ever like me like that anyways.
Today I agreed to go home with Dick, who wanted some help with a project and while I really wanted to meet him there, he’s insisted he drive us there. I feel terribly awkward and uncomfortable as I walk down the hall and towards the back door, next to Dick Grayson. “You’re gonna love my car, she purrs like a kitty.” He makes a cat sound, causing me to cringe even further. “You’re so weird, Dick.” He laughs as we pass girls and guys, all with weird looks on their faces. I’m not used to this kind of attention, in fact I do not like it. This is the kind of attention I had expected though if I let him drive me home, no body would expect him to have me in his car. He held the back door open for me and dragged me out to his car, grinning and waving to some of his fan girls on the way.
“Your first ride in the Grayson mobile!” He actually opens the passenger door for me, which makes a small grin appear on my cheeks. “And only.” I mutter to myself, but he seems to miss it and quickly jump into the drivers seat, taking no time to take off. I try and ignore the feeling of eyes staring at me as we speed out of the parking lot, admittedly this car does go pretty fast, but I’m still not convinced it could charm me like the other girls it works on. The drive to his house was fast and I enjoyed the silence for once as he focused on driving. Alfred seemed happy to see me, as he usually is and Bruce is no where to be found… as he usually is. I have actually met him a few times now and swear he even recognizes me now.
I’ve gotten a full tour of the Wayne mansion by now, so I grew surprised when I realized I got lost. On my way back from the bathroom I must have taken a wrong turn somehow and now found myself in an area of the house I don’t recognize as much. I will admit, this house leaves me curious with it’s age and size so I begin to peek into different rooms I’ve never seen before. One of them seems like an office, an older office that Bruce may not use anymore so I quietly slip in, planning to just look for a second. A large bookcase sat behind a desk, which is the first thing to grab my attention. I stand back and look at a few books, until a few specific titles take my attention away from the rest. Leave it to me to instead of snooping, get distracted by books. After listening for anyone coming, I go to grab a book from the shelf but it seems stuck. I tug a few times, the shelf shifting before me after the last tug. I hop back as the small opening appears from behind the now pushed aside case.
A dark room is now before me, small and quiet. I decide after an internal battle in my head to step inside and look around. It’s dusty in some spots, and I’m not able to see all too well because of the dark, but I do see the reflection of a glass case. I get close, finding old torn up fabric behind the said glass of the case. This isn’t any normal fabric though, these are a pair of Batman and Robin suits, a few of the things I’ve seen them wear. My eyes widen, breathe getting caught in my throat, why does Bruce Wayne have these? I scan them from top to bottom, they look used and torn in some places, like they really have been used in battle. I’m not stupid, and there’s no way Bruce Wayne is just a huge Batman fan, I know what this must mean. “You’re not gonna like- tell anyone right?” This makes me nearly jump out of my skin and fly through the ceiling. “Oh shit!” I yelled in surprise and fear, whipping around to see it’s just Dick who must have snuck in here quieter than a mouse. “Bruce is batman?” I quickly ask, words pouring out of my mouth. He gets closer quickly, movements also rapid and nervous. “You can’t tell anyone!” He whisper yells, now close enough for only me to hear him. He looks down at me, an expression of fear painting his eyes. “I mean seriously, Janet-“
I look him up and down before turning to look at the Robin suit that sat next to Batman’s. “This means that…” I trail off, nerves starting to consume me. “You’re… No way.” He seems to get even more nervous than before, showing a side of him I’ve never seen before. He sighs as I stand and look at him, dumbfounded. “Yes Janet… I’m Robin. And Bruce is Batman, but absolutely nobody can know-!”
“I won’t tell anyone I swear, okay?” I quickly reassure him, wanting his trust. “I mean it.” We both stare at each other for a moment, my cheeks heating as I think about the fact that… well Dick is Robin. The same Robin I’ve been crushing on… the same crush I told Dick about. Oh my god, I can’t tell if this is exciting, confusing or embarrassing. I’ve never seen Dick like that, but Robin is the most infatuating person I’ve ever seen. This also means that Dick was watching, an saved me, one of the sweetest things anyone has ever done for me. Dick is my hero. His face slowly changes from shaken to smug, a smirk tugging his lips’ upward. “Does this mean you got it bad for me?” He says, biting his own lip and holding his hands together. My cheeks go hot and red, spit getting caught in my throat as I watch him stand and look at me, almost excited like.
“You don’t have to be shy about it.” He says soft, inching closer. I stutter, not sure how to respond. I’ve always found Dick Grayson to be overrated and annoying, but over time I have learned to love him as a friend. “I don’t know what to say…” I say soft, my eyes trailing down to the ground. I’ve learned Dick is a decent guy, but now I know he’s even better than I thought, a real hero. I look back up, seeing that his smile remains, but softens from smug to sweet. “You could ask me out.” He says soft, his thumbs still pulling at each other. It almost seems like, he wants me or something like he’s been waiting for this moment and wants me to ask him out. “Do you want that?” I asked, head cocked to the side. His smile fades, this seemed to embraced him, oops. “Yeah.” He says bluntly, making me confidence leave me and nerves return. “I’ve liked you for a while now… since you started tutoring me.” He looks at me with soft eyes, a small smile returning. “If you don’t feel the same it’s okay-“
“No! I do like you.” The words just seemed too again, pour out of me like an uncontrollable waterfall. “I like both of you… you and Robin I mean. You just happen to be both of them. You’re the one that saved me.” He watched me from a few inches away before deciding to break the distance and pull me into a gentle but close hug. “You’re the only person that seems to like me for me, of course I’d save you.” He said softly, pulling away to look at me for a moment. We lock eyes as he leans down to kiss me softly, but only for a moment to leave it soft and gentle. “What about all the others girls at school that like you?” I ask softy, eyes trailing to the side, his kiss tingling my lips. I always tease him about all the girls that he flirts with, little did I know the whole time I was who he wanted. “I only want you, though.” This made me smile and lean up to give him a peck on the cheek. He chuckled to himself, pulling me closer and squeezing me to death which also admitted a chuckle from me.
“No seriously though, you can’t tell anyone about the Batman and Robin shit.” I look up at him with a smirk, a way to tease him. “On one condition.” He rolls his eyes, hand reaching up top hold my cheek in his palm. “You and your conditions.”
“I get to be your girlfriend.”
“As long as I get to be your boyfriend.”
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love, spell <3
please send more story requests!!
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soniclozdplove · 3 days ago
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Wukong came in shortly after the demon monkey left, confused at the utterly terrified expressions on his old friends' faces.
"What happened!?"
"Demon... shadows..." Was all a pale faced Tang could choke out, shaking as he cluched his shakujō tightly. Wukong blinked in confusion before realization struck, his eyes lighting up in recognition before shifting to annoyance.
"Oh! You met him, huh? Figures he wouldn't leave well enough alone."
"Who is that scary guy anyways!?" Baije asks, looking somewhere between pissed and terrified, "That freak just came in and threatened us, I thought you said this place would be safe!"
"Watch it!" Wukong growled at him, low and angry as he glared at Baije, "Macaque is many things, but I will not tolerate anyone but me insulting him!"
Tang Sanzang's most lazy disciple promptly shut his mouth with an audible click of teeth. Tang was quickly learning that this strange, mature version of Wukong was someone who is very protective of those he cares for, and will not allow any perceived threat or insult to them to exist. Considering the boastful nature of the monkey he knows, he has to wonder. Was this change caused by age and many centuries of change? Or was this something his own Wukong was capable of? It's something to consider for when they return to their own time. If they return.
How quickly he went from being annoyed at the presence of the other monkey to defending him speaks leagues about the two as well, especially considering the threats Macaque had spoken of before he'd left. The two had to have a close bond, to defend each other in the same breath they'd insult each other. Tang cleared his throat, prepared to mediate.
"I would like to know more about this Macaque, character. Zu Baije was not wrong when he said he spoke to up in a threatening manner in regards to how he sees us and your safety only to leave when he sensed your approach."
Wukong frowned, grumbling something to himself that almost sounded like "overprotective, jealous bastard" before heaving a heavy sigh and looking him in the eye,
"Macaque is just jealous. He's worried that your presence in our... in my life again will cause a rift."
"How would we cause some sort of rift between you!?" Ao Lie asked, wringing his hands worriedly, "When you, uh... the younger you, told me about him, you seemed like you were close!"
"It's... complicated." Wukong looked down, a conflicted expression on his face as he sank into the couch next to them, hands clenched together as he stared at them, "Not something I'd like to get into. Let's just say, me and Macaque had a falling out of sorts during the Journey, and Macaque has gotten it into his head that you are to blame. You appearing here and now, as you are, is very ill timing."
It occurred to Tang, as he watched his eldest student seem to go through a form of heartbreak as he spoke of his friend, that this is the first time he'd ever seen Sun Wukong be vulnerable and open about his feelings. He seemed... small. A strange thing to consider for him, when just a few days earlier he had seen a much younger Wukong bludgeoning several demons to death. Just as quickly the moment passed, Wukong perking up as he seemed to remember something.
"Oh! Right. MK wanted to do some training earlier. He wanted to know if you wanted to watch, it's just some small sparring between the two of us, maybe a bit of meditation, nothing special."
"Sparring?" Tang blinked, feeling apprehensive. Sparring implies violence. Does Wukong teach his student violent lessons?
"I mean, yeah." Wukong shrugged, "Mercy is a virtue, but one can not simply just go through life without learning to defend themselves. Especially when you're a demon! Even now, there are those who would attack a demon simply for existing in peace. Never mind back in the Tang era where they'd be forced to hide in caves, rivers, and forests to escape persecution. You all should know this!"
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loojii · 2 days ago
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*GIANT DEEP BREATH*
I LOVE YOU AND YORU DESIGNS FOR EVERY CHARACTER I KNOW SO MUCH LOVE HAS BEEN PUT INTO IT AND I LOVE YOU SO MUCH FOR IT LIKE OMG MOSTLY I GOT INTRODUCED TO YINA THE FEMALE HYENA AND THE FACT IS HIW YOU MADE HER MUSUCLAR CAUSE I LOVE ANIMAL STUDIES SO MUCH AND THE FACT IS FEMALE HYENAS HAVE MORE TESTOSTRONE THEN MALE HYENAS!!
I love them so much LIKE UGHHH BUT YINA GOT ME EXCITED BECAUSE ITS A CHARACTER BASED OFF OF AN ANIMAL SO YOU DONT NEED TO REPLY BUT I WANTED TO TALK ABOUT HWO I LOVE HOW YOU MADE YINA MUSCULAR!! So I kinda wanted to ramble to someone as awesome as you about how they court you can ignore this but I got so happy ⊂((・x・))⊃
Ahem!! In spotted hyena society, adult males are ranked at the very bottom of the clan hierarchy. That means that when it comes time to find a date, the males have A LOT of work to do to impress a female. Male hyenas are generally terrified of female hyenas, and the prospect of having to approach – let alone court – a female can elicit actual shivers of fear. Here are some of the tried-and-true tactics in a male hyena’s dating arsenal
They do the same thing humans do which os the Approach avoid behavior A male hyena approaches a female (who is usually ignoring him), and once he gets close to her, he backs off a few meters as if suddenly startled. He often repeats this over and over for minutes at a time, sometimes never even getting close enough to sniff or groom the female. As Leslie described in an earlier blog post, the male seems to be thinking, "I want you...but I'm scared of you...but you're cute....but also dangerous..." which im like oh that kinda suites ruggie yuna as its compared cause yes he cannot take her out to dinner he still is awkward which leads to some common actings for hyenas to either ne flashy to their mate or be awkward and shy away and contemplate if they had the acutal chances of getting a parter
A thing is my favorite hyena courtship behavior, and I recommend it for males of all species. A hyena male lifts one foreleg and crosses it over the other while facing the female. It is ridiculously adorable, especially when she completely ignores him but I think Yina would probs stare at him if he bowed to her I’d love to see her reaction! AHEM AGAIN SORRY FOR THE RAMBLES I JUST GOT EXCITEDDDD
Have an amazing day
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Yeah thats exactly why I made her musclar :D Or rather; why I just feel in my guts that Ruggie likes them big and strong (I just make every character thinking what the guys would want lol)
Yina definitly will see anything Ruggie does as totaly for realz omg flirting - that casual leg thingy is totally him telling her he wants to take her out so she'll ask again or visit his school
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mercillery · 2 days ago
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MARINES AS GUARDIAN ANGELS!
WARNINGS: GENDER NOT SPECIFIED + NOT PROOFREAD
NOTES: this was a really random idea that’s been sitting in drafts for too long. someone please write more for the marines 💔
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AOKIJI/KUZAN
As your guardian angel, Aokiji takes a chill approach—literally and figuratively.
Picture him lounging in an oversized beanbag cloud, sipping iced coffee (because hot coffee is just too much work) while keeping one lazy eye on you. He’s the kind of guardian angel who firmly believes in your freedom to live your life, make your choices, and occasionally trip over them like a newborn giraffe learning to walk.
“Growth, y'know?” he’d say with a shrug, ice cubes clinking in his drink. He's not hovering over you with a checklist of rules—he’s more like a life coach who doesn’t believe in micromanaging.
Aokiji's presence is undeniably calming, like a cool breeze on a sweltering day or the sound of rain when you're wrapped in a blanket. You won’t always see him stepping in, but that’s part of his method.
Subtle nudges? Oh, he’s got those in spades. You might feel an inexplicable urge to turn left instead of right, or decide to call it quits on a bad idea at the last second. That’s Aokiji for you. He’s like the universe’s “Are you sure about that?” pop-up notification—but without the nagging.
Now, don’t get it twisted: Aokiji isn’t lazy, he’s strategically hands-off. Why? Because he wants you to learn how to fend for yourself. “It’s your life, not mine,” he’d remind you, probably lying on a cloud hammock and tossing snowballs into the abyss for fun.
He genuinely believes in you, even when you don’t believe in yourself. He figures that if he’s always there holding your hand, you’ll never learn to walk on your own. “And besides,” he might add with a yawn, “you’d just get annoyed with me after a while.”
But let’s talk about when you mess up. You know those moments when you think, This is genius, but it turns out to be a disaster? Aokiji lets you go through with it—not because he enjoys watching you flail okay, maybe a little, but because he knows mistakes are part of the process. He might even be sitting there like, “Hmm, this’ll be a good lesson. Painful, sure, but memorable.”
Of course, he’s got limits. If your grand oopsie is about to land you in the ICU or worse, you’ll suddenly find yourself narrowly avoiding disaster, courtesy of a well-timed intervention. He’s not heartless, after all. “Eh, can’t let you die; that’d make me look bad,” he’d say with his trademark deadpan delivery.
The real humor here is in how he communicates with you. Instead of some grand angelic vision, you might get a sudden brain freeze while debating a bad idea. Or maybe a random bird drops an icicle near your feet, and you’re like, “What the heck?!”
Meanwhile, Aokiji’s up there smirking, muttering, “Message received, I hope.” He’s not about to hold neon signs that scream DON’T DO IT, but he’ll definitely leave breadcrumbs for you to figure things out.
Aokiji, as your guardian angel, is the embodiment of patience—like, Buddha-level patience, but with way more chill and significantly less sitting under trees. He doesn’t push, prod, or poke.
Instead, he’s the guy who casually tosses a single, offhand comment into the mix that leaves you spiraling into an existential crisis. You’ll find yourself staring into the distance, thinking, Wait… was that… wisdom? And it always is.
The kicker? He does it so rarely that every time he decides to share something meaningful, it’s like being hit by a truck made of profound truths. You walk away stunned, muttering, “Wow, okay, Mr. Cool Nonchalant Guardian Angel. Didn’t know I signed up for a TED Talk today.”
But those nuggets of wisdom? Oh, they stick. Some lodge themselves in your brain permanently, popping up at random moments years later, leaving you to wonder how this laid-back angel became a cornerstone of your moral philosophy. You’re not even mad about it. If anything, you’re a little awestruck. He’s like the personification of “quiet cool,” and every time he speaks, it feels like hearing the world’s calmest mic drop.
Aokiji’s ability to understand human emotions is almost spooky. He doesn’t just get you—he gets you.
You could be a sobbing mess of self-doubt and regret, and there he is, just vibing, no judgment in sight. “Yeah, you screwed up,” he’d say, leaning back like it’s no big deal. “But who hasn’t? That’s kind of the whole point of being human.” And somehow, those simple words are exactly what you needed to hear. If it were physically possible, he’d pat you on the back, but instead, you get a breeze, a faint chill, and a casual remark like, “Relax, kid. You’re doing fine. Maybe take a chill pill while you’re at it.”
He’s the angel you instinctively turn to during your worst emotional slumps, partly because he’s so good at making you feel better, and partly because you know he’ll listen without so much as raising an eyebrow.
He doesn’t lecture or overwhelm you with advice; instead, he offers thoughtful insights that make you stop, think, and—more often than not—reassess everything you thought you knew. His words aren’t just comforting; they’re life-altering. You might find yourself walking away with a fresh perspective on your struggles, life in general, and the universe itself.
But here’s the kicker: Just when you’re about to thank him for being the coolest, most insightful guardian angel in existence, he’s gone.
Poof.
Out of sight.
You’ll look around, confused, only to realize he’s off napping somewhere, snoring like a chainsaw. He’s like that friend who gives you the world’s best advice and then immediately acts like it was no big deal. Honestly, you’re starting to think he does it on purpose—drops some wisdom, lets you stew on it, and then ghosts like he’s too cool for gratitude.
Still, you can’t help but admire the guy. Aokiji is the guardian angel you didn’t know you needed, with a knack for making you feel seen, understood, and, weirdly enough, okay with all the messy bits of life. Sure, he’s napping more often than not, but when he’s there? Oh, he delivers.
Aokiji is the kind of guardian angel who sees life not as a perfectly arranged puzzle but as a beautiful, chaotic mess—and he wants you to see it that way too. He encourages you to embrace the imperfections, those little unexpected quirks that make life worth living.
Spill coffee on your shirt during a meeting? He’d probably shrug and mutter, “Eh, you’ve got character now.” Trip over your own feet in public? “Style it out,” he’d say in your mind. If you’re too hard on yourself, he’s right there, reminding you to ease up. “Come on, kid, the world’s already tough enough. You don’t need to pile on yourself too.” His voice in your head is like a soothing balm for your overworked inner critic.
When it comes to guiding you, Aokiji isn’t about hand-holding or spoon-feeding. He’s more like the cool uncle who asks the kind of questions that leave you wondering, Wait, was that advice, or was he just messing with me?
He nudges, hints, and lets you figure it out. Trusting your instincts is something he wants you to master, and he’s there to give you the confidence to do it. But don’t expect a detailed PowerPoint presentation on what to do—this is Aokiji, not a corporate retreat.
Now, dangerous situations? That’s where Aokiji gets serious. He doesn’t mess around when someone—or something—threatens his human. If harm is coming your way, he steps in, ice-cold resolve and all, to make sure you’re safe.
He’s got a rule: if you mess up and learn the hard way, fine. That’s growth. But harm coming from another person? Absolutely not. He’s not about to let you get hurt on his watch. Whether it’s de-escalating a heated argument, keeping you out of physical danger, or just freezing the bad vibes in their tracks, Aokiji ensures you walk away unharmed, emotionally and physically intact. You don’t even realize how much he does for you half the time because, well, he’s subtle like that.
But here’s the best part—Aokiji’s big brother energy. Later that night, when the adrenaline has worn off, and you’re snuggled under your blanket, ready to doze off, he might quietly check in.
Maybe he descends from wherever angels chill out and, with his usual laid-back demeanor, murmurs, “You okay, kid?” And there it is again—that kid nickname. It’s not condescending, not in the least. It’s warm, protective, and a little teasing, like he’s the big brother you didn’t know you needed.
Sometimes it’s easy to forget he’s technically an angel and not just your overchill sibling figure. He calls you “kid” so often, you half expect him to ruffle your hair one day.
Aokiji isn’t flashy or overbearing; he’s just there, in the best way possible—steady, reliable, and cool as ice. You feel safe knowing that, whether it’s finding beauty in life’s chaos or keeping you safe from harm, he’s always got your back.
KIZARU/BORSALINO
Kizaru’s style as your guardian angel is as perplexing as it is entertaining. He’s a walking enigma wrapped in golden light, delivering cryptic remarks that leave you scratching your head more often than not.
His approach? A strange mix of lighthearted teasing, unpredictable antics, and that signature laid-back demeanor that somehow manages to both calm and confuse you at the same time.
Imagine this: you’re stressing over a big decision, and suddenly, out of nowhere, Kizaru pops in with his usual drawl, “Oooh, what’s the rush? Doesn’t seem that urgent to me.” You turn to him, shooting him the most baffled “what?” look in existence, only to find him lazily smirking like he just walked off a beach. His expression clearly says, What? What?—and now you’re even more confused.
Naturally, you’re like, “What did you mean by tha—” but before you can finish, he casually snaps his fingers, and suddenly your coffee spills... somehow forming a perfect replica of a smiley face on the table.
You’re left staring at the mess, dumbfounded, as Kizaru stretches, mutters, “Guess that’s your sign,” and vanishes into thin air, leaving you no closer to answers but definitely distracted enough to forget what you were worrying about.
When it comes to intervention, Kizaru operates on a whole other wavelength. He’s not going to swoop down dramatically to save you from danger—that’s too ordinary for him. No, his methods are indirect and borderline bizarre.
Maybe he makes your phone randomly restart, delaying you just enough to avoid crossing paths with a reckless driver. Or perhaps your shoe suddenly comes untied, forcing you to stop and miss stepping into a bad situation.
It all seems coincidental, but then, just as you’re shaking your head at your “bad luck,” you catch the faintest sound, like a whisper carried on the breeze: “Oooh, close one.” It’s so distant, so ridiculously faint, that you almost convince yourself you imagined it. Almost.
Kizaru’s interventions always leave you wondering. Is he deliberately cryptic for fun, or is there a method to his madness? Either way, his unpredictable nature means you never know exactly what to expect.
One day, he might save you with the equivalent of a cosmic prank; the next, he’ll throw you a curveball disguised as the world’s most nonsensical advice. But that’s just Kizaru for you—never straightforward, always keeping you on your toes, and somehow managing to make you laugh in the middle of chaos.
Despite his laid-back attitude, Kizaru has an almost intimidating depth of knowledge and experience. He’s been around the cosmic block a few times, but you’d never know it by the way he casually tosses advice your way—if you can even call it advice. His pearls of wisdom tend to come wrapped in riddles and cryptic one-liners that make you feel like you’re playing some celestial guessing game.
You’ll stand there, trying not to pull your hair out, and blurt, “Can you just give me a normal answer for once?!” But no, not Kizaru. Instead, he’ll give you that trademark smirk, shrug in slow motion, and murmur something like, “Mmm… why do today what can wait until tomorrow?”
Then he vanishes, leaving you with nothing but your rising blood pressure and the gnawing suspicion that his nonsense will somehow make sense later. Spoiler alert: it does. And when it finally clicks, you’re equal parts impressed and annoyed because, of course, he knew what he was talking about all along.
But let’s not mistake his nonchalance for indifference. Beneath that carefree exterior, Borsalino is fiercely loyal to you. He might act like he’s just here for the vibes, but the truth is, he’s always keeping a close eye on you. His interventions are so seamless, so bizarrely timed, that they feel almost miraculous.
Picture this: you’re seconds away from stepping into a complete disaster, and suddenly, out of nowhere, you hear his voice drawl, “Ooooh… nice try, but no.” Before you can even process what’s happening, the threat is neutralized in the most inexplicable way.
One time, you’re about to walk into a room that’s about to collapse, and bam—the door jams before you can enter. You stand there, frustrated, yanking at the handle like it’s some kind of cosmic joke.
Later, when you realize what you narrowly avoided, you hear the faint echo of his chuckle. “Bet you’re glad you didn’t get in,” he’d say, probably lounging on a cloud, sunglasses slightly askew.
And his methods? Completely unconventional, borderline ridiculous, and yet undeniably effective. He doesn’t fight danger head-on. Instead, he works smarter, not harder, defusing situations in ways that leave you standing there, blinking, like, *Wait, what just happened?* Did the danger really disappear, or did Kizaru just bend the laws of reality around you for fun? Probably both.
Kizaru is the wildcard of the guardian angel trio, and oh boy, does he embrace the role with gusto. Unpredictable, occasionally maddening, and always one step ahead, he keeps you on your toes like it’s his celestial hobby.
His favorite pastime? Teasing you into oblivion. Whether it’s a cheeky remark about your life choices or a cryptic observation that leaves you spiraling in self-reflection, he somehow manages to fluster and enlighten you in the same breath. You’ll glare at him, cheeks puffed in frustration, and he’ll just raise an eyebrow, his smirk practically saying, “Did I say something wrong? Noooo… I don’t think so."
When life has you wound tighter than a violin string, Kizaru steps in with his patented chaotic chill energy to shake things up. He’s the angel equivalent of a “live a little” poster, casually reminding you to loosen up and stop sweating the small stuff.
Overthinking something? He might “accidentally” cause your phone to die mid-rant, leaving you forced to sit with your thoughts and, begrudgingly, chill out. Spilling your coffee? Misplacing your keys? Yeah, that’s probably him too. But hey, it’s harmless enough—just enough chaos to nudge you into realizing that life doesn’t always have to be taken so seriously.
His humor is his greatest weapon against your stress. Say you’re in the middle of a meltdown over tomorrow’s presentation; he’ll saunter in, leisurely as ever, and go, “Oooh… stressing already? You didn’t even mess up yet! Guess you like to start early, huh?”
Cue your annoyed groan as he lounges somewhere nearby, maybe filing his nails or inspecting his sunglasses. His nonchalant attitude can be infuriating, but deep down, you know he’s got a point.
And Kizaru isn’t just messing around—he’s strategic about his nonsense. He knows when to lighten the mood and when to drop a line that actually sticks with you. Sure, he can be playful, but his ultimate goal is to remind you that life is meant to be lived, not just stressed over.
Tomorrows’ worries? That’s for tomorrow. Today’s? Eh, deal with them and move on. He’s not about to let his adorable, flustered little human keel over from worry. "Can’t have you overthinking yourself to an early grave," he’d joke, smirking as you roll your eyes.
AKAINU/SAKAZUKI
Oh boy, where do we even begin with Akainu?
Strap in, because this guy takes the concept of “guardian angel” to a whole new level. You thought guardian angels were supposed to be all soft and comforting? Not Akainu. Nope. He’s not here to coddle you; he’s here to run your life like a military operation. Imagine having a drill sergeant and a guardian angel rolled into one, and you’ll start to get the picture.
Akainu takes his role very seriously. Like, obsessively so. His whole vibe screams, I will protect you at all costs, even if it’s from yourself, and you will thank me later.
And yeah, you do feel safe with him around, but let’s be real—it’s hard to relax when you’ve got someone barking orders about how to “make better life choices” while glaring at your empty water bottle like hydration is a personal affront. "Drink more water. NOW. How are you supposed to survive without proper hydration?"
He’s firm, he’s direct, and he does not mess around. If you so much as think about doing something remotely risky, Akainu is there, arms crossed, his eyebrows furrowed in the most intimidating dad-face imaginable. “What are you doing? Did you think that through? No? Then don’t do it.” And if you try to argue? Forget it. “I’m your guardian angel, not your yes-man. Sit down.”
Anything he sees as a threat—bad friends, bad habits, bad decisions—gets obliterated faster than you can say, “But Akainu, wait—” Nope, no waiting. He’s already neutralized the problem, metaphorically or maybe literally incinerated it, and is giving you the look. You know the one. The look that says, “This wouldn’t have happened if you listened to me the first time."
And let’s talk about how thorough he is when it comes to your safety. During moments of crisis, Akainu’s got the whole situation handled before you even realize there’s a crisis.
Someone’s being aggressive toward you? They’re suddenly very apologetic. Demonic entity lurking around? They take one look at Akainu and nopenopeNOPE their way out of existence. Seriously, demons probably swap horror stories about him around their little demon campfires. “Yeah, I tried to mess with one of his humans once. Never again. The guy’s a walking no-fly zone."
His presence is like a massive, unyielding shield—a big, lava-hot wall of “try it, I dare you” energy. It’s comforting in a Wow, I’m invincible with this guy around kind of way, but also mildly terrifying because Akainu does not do half-measures. He’s all in, all the time.
Despite all his drill-sergeant-meets-volcano-dad intensity, Akainu has a surprising amount of faith in you. Shocking, right? He genuinely believes in teaching you resilience and strength. Sure, he’s the guy who will body-check a demon into another dimension if they even look at you funny, but he also knows that shielding you from every challenge isn’t going to help you grow.
So he lets you struggle a little—not in a cruel way, but just enough for you to toughen up and figure things out. But don’t worry, he’s got an internal alarm that goes off the second things get too real. Stakes too high? He’s there faster than you can say, “Wait, is this lava?”
Here’s the thing about Akainu: he values discipline like it’s a currency, and he really wants you to learn how to take care of yourself. But—big “but” here—he also respects your autonomy.
If you don’t want to listen to him? Fine. That’s on you. Just don’t expect him to take it lightly when your bad decision inevitably explodes in your face. “Oh, so this is what happens when you ignore my advice? Huh. Interesting. Didn’t see that coming. Except I did. I told you it would happen. Repeatedly.”
Even if you do ignore him, curse at him, or (heaven forbid) give him attitude, Akainu isn’t going anywhere. Sure, he might look like he’s about to erupt into a full-on volcanic tantrum, his metaphorical head steaming like an active geyser, but here’s the kicker: he’ll still protect you. Because you’re his human, and you’re stuck with him whether you like it or not.
And, yeah, he’ll scold you afterward. Oh boy, will he scold you. His lectures are legendary—part life lesson, part motivational speech, part “how do you not already know this?!” But underneath the frustration and the stern tone, you can tell it all comes from a place of genuine care.
His blunt, sometimes harsh advice might feel like a slap in the face (or a splash of molten lava), but it’s always honest, always unfiltered, and always rooted in his desire to see you thrive.
Akainu keeps a close, very close watch over your life. You think you’re sneaky? Think again. He’s analyzing every decision you make like a CIA agent reviewing classified files. If there’s even a hint of danger, he’s already two steps ahead, ready to intervene. He doesn’t sugarcoat anything, ever.
You’re not going to get soft reassurances or “everything will magically work out” vibes from him. Instead, you get the no-nonsense truth, served with a side of tough love and a lot of crossed arms.
If you’re reckless, self-destructive, or just plain dumb about your decisions, Akainu is going to let you hear about it. You’ll practically feel his fiery glare boring into your soul as he gruffly commands, “Stop that.” Not a suggestion, not a request—just a straight-up order. And, let’s be honest, you’ll probably stop, if only because his tone makes it sound like not stopping would somehow make the Earth implode.
While Aokiji is all about sprinkling breadcrumbs and letting you follow the trail like some kind of life lesson scavenger hunt, Akainu is not about that life. Oh no. Akainu’s approach is more… let’s call it “visually and audibly overwhelming.”
Picture this: he’s standing in front of you holding a giant, blinding neon sign that screams, “DON’T DO IT!” Not enough? Don’t worry—he’s also got a roaring semi-truck idling nearby, a megaphone cranked up to the max, a PA system blasting the same warning on repeat, and, for good measure, an air raid siren wailing in the background. Oh, and fireworks. Big, loud ones spelling out, “I SAID NO.”
And yet, somehow, beneath all the volcanic intensity, Akainu has… a soft spot for you. Yes, Akainu, the walking embodiment of no-nonsense justice, has a tender side. Shocking, I know. Don’t expect him to go all mushy on you—he’s not about to hand out hugs or write heartfelt letters. His care comes through in a way that’s 100% Akainu: practical, efficient, and borderline bossy.
For instance, if you’re not eating properly, he’ll make sure you do—even if it means somehow orchestrating events so your favorite meal shows up at the perfect time. “Coincidence”? Please. That’s Akainu, silently shaking his head at your questionable life choices and ensuring you don’t faint from malnutrition.
Dangerous situation? Forget about it. You’re already being quietly guided away before you even realize the threat existed. Your environment feels oddly stable and secure? Yep, that’s him too, working behind the scenes like the overprotective angel he is.
It’s wild to think about, but Akainu really does care in his own gruff, no-frills way. He might not shower you with affection or words of encouragement, but his actions? Oh, they speak volumes. Because at the end of the day, Akainu’s brand of love is this: making sure his human is alive, well, and not being an idiot.
When it comes to emotional support, Akainu is… well, let’s just say he’s a bit out of his element. It’s not that he doesn’t care—he does, deeply—but the man wouldn’t know how to ask “Are you okay?” if you handed him a script and a teleprompter. Emotional vulnerability? Yeah, that’s uncharted territory for him.
If you’re having a rough time, he’ll ensure you’re safe and secure, no questions asked. Did someone hurt you? He’s already dealt with it—don’t ask how. Are you overwhelmed? Suddenly, your to-do list is mysteriously cleared, and your surroundings feel unnervingly calm. Did you notice your favorite comfort item conveniently reappear out of nowhere? Yeah, that’s him. He’s got your back, but don’t expect him to say it out loud. Words are not his weapon of choice—lava fists are, but we digress.
And, oh, he will check up on you later. Not in a “Hey, how are you holding up?” kind of way. No, his style is more... covert ops. Picture this: you’re fast asleep, blissfully unaware, and Akainu is leaning over you like a silent hawk, his brows furrowed as he inspects your face. Is your expression too tense? Are you frowning? Smiling? Breathing weird? He’s taking mental notes like it’s a military debriefing.
He might even mutter to himself while pacing. “They seem fine… I think. Maybe. But what if they’re not? Should I—no, that’s stupid. They’ll be fine. Probably.” Eventually, he narrows his eyes, nods in silent approval, and disappears back to wherever guardian angels hang out, fully convinced that his midnight reconnaissance mission was a success.
It’s almost sweet—if it weren’t just a tiny bit unsettling. But hey, that’s Akainu for you. He may not be a master of emotional nuance, but he’s got his own way of showing he cares. Whether it’s through practical actions, silent observations, or his “secret” check-ins, you know he’s always watching over you… in his Akainu way. And honestly? That’s more comforting than he’ll ever admit.
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toddtakefive · 8 months ago
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thinking about todd and his resolve toward… not quite isolation, but being alone in a room full of people again. he goes along to the study room to sit on his own and do his homework, he sits at the poets table and follows along with what’s being said while keeping quiet, he goes to the meetings at all but doesn’t necessarily contribute (in fact, if you watch him when cameron is telling the story ‘from camp in sixth grade’, you can see that he recognizes it before any of the other poets but doesn’t voice it until they all have). he’s not alone, necessarily, if you want to get technical about it, he’s just lonely, and he’s generally okay with that. he doesn’t have friends and that’s fine, he doesn’t participate in class and that’s fine, he doesn’t have a relationship with his family and that’s fine—he could live without any real connection and he’d have been, more or less, fine.
the thing about when he says “i can take care of myself just fine!” is that he isn’t really wrong, you can infer that he’s been doing it his entire life anyway, it’s that ‘taking care of yourself’ isn’t the same thing as really living or being happy. todd’s an introvert, certainly, and even as he gets closer to the group he defaults to sitting quietly in the background, but he’s also denying himself community out of fear not introversion. todd isn’t friendless because he’s an introvert, although that definitely plays a part, he’s friendless because he pushes anyone that might want his company away. if anyone has every wanted for his attention in the first place. (neil’s unwavering interest in him is unique (even when it comes to the rest of the poets, who are fine with todd coming along and joining the group, but aren’t really hellbent on him being there in the beginning) and his refusal to accept it is a direct result of being so lonely growing up.)
there’s obviously something to be said about the implications of his parents neglect, and the more than likely fact that he grew up friendless, and how those both play a part in in him being so skilled at dodging social interaction/being so avoidant of it, but by the time we see him in the movie he’s all but accepted his fate as being alone his entire life. he’s already accepted being the family disappointment, and he’s already accepted he’ll never amount to anything, and he obviously doesn’t like it, but he’d have managed living with that knowledge without the confirmation that it was all wrong. would he have been miserable? almost certainly. but he’d have managed. he’d done it for that long already, anyhow.
#and like obviously it’s BAD in the long run and his isolation IS only making his life worse but… genuinely he’d have been alright#all things considered#it’s super interesting to me how it’s neil who starts the domino effect of todd’s life becoming Less Shit#both by beliving in him and putting faith in him that he’s never seen before and refusing to let him hide away#but it isn’t a savior moment on neil’s part#and i find it so odd when people frame it as one#todd is like… actively irritated at him in that scene 😭#neil is right that todd needs to get out of his shell and put himself out there and Believe in himself#but todd can’t accept it yet because he can’t see what neil sees in him yet and doesn’t believe it exists at all#and it frustrates him because unlike everyone else neil REFUSES to give up on him#and as far as todds concerned it’ll be for nothing#as far as todd’s concerned ​neil isn’t a savior or a hero in that scene he’s an annoyance#a necessary one in the grand scheme of things but an annoyance all the same#i think people forget that just because todd DOES want to break out of his shell (‘don’t you think you could be?’ / ‘no! i… i don’t know!’ +#‘come on you heard keating don’t you want to *do* something about it?’ / ‘*yes* but…’) doesn’t mean he knows how or believes he actually CAN#todds autonomy can be taken away from him a lot (ironic) and he can be twisted into someone with no opinions or thoughts or whims +#outside of neil but that isn’t really the case#and a part of that blame lands on the movie because todd doesn’t get explored a lot but there’s still evidence of him being his own person#he’s not a yesman and he tells neil when his ideas are stupid (keeping the audition from his father) or he just doesn’t personally agree +#(the entire ‘no’ scene) and he functions perfectly well when neil isn’t around and while they aren’t focuses +#there are short scenes where todds alone or scenes that start eith them apart that make it clear they aren’t attatched to each other +#in the way people can often write them to be (that is in the trenches if the other is missing)#this post and all these tags are my long winded way of saying FUCK the codependent anderperry thing some people subscribe to it makes me#mad#neil’s goal is to help todd grow into himself and become his own person and find his identity more than anything#and todd doesn’t need neil to hold his hand to do literally anything and everything he’s a normal guy with anxiety#come on guys#dps#dead poets society#todd anderson
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waywardsalt · 6 months ago
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with my phantom hourglass replay, there are two things i noticed;
a possible theme you could glean from the game is action vs inaction, and i think it's especially prevalent before you even leave mercay the first time, with oshus frequently urging link to not go after the ghost ship, then to just wait until the broken bridge is fixed, and seems reluctant at every turn while link and ciela are more than eager to go and do something about this problem, and the people of mercay in general talking about things and their problems but never seeming to act on their fears or desires, as well as the mention that due to the ghost ship, very very few people are still sailing around, while linebeck is one of the only people we see in the game actively going after the ghost ship and still sailing around. i might make a longer post just talking more about the action vs inaction in phantom hourglass but i just noticed it a bit and thought it was a bit of an interesting sort of theme you could find in the game.
linebeck moves so fucking much. i think he moves more than any npc in the rest of the game. not just in his intro cutscene where he is very animated, just in how much he moves when just standing in his little idle post, it's damn near distracting when the camera is focused on him, he moves a lot. i don't think i've really acknowledged how much he moves, and it really gives the impression that he's antsy or eager to get going, both of which fit him pretty well with how he acts.
#phantom hourglass#linebeck#loz#legend of zelda#salty talks#imo the action vs inaction thing feels esp interesting to me when looking at oshus specifically. he and his world are in grave danger#and he knows it and he actively does nothing and even seems reluctant to let ciela and link go ahead and do something.#of course he comes around on it but it's very interesting. has he given up at that point? thats what it suggests to me#that hes like. joined the people of mercay in just lying down and waiting for other people to fix their problems or just. not do anything#otherwise on mercay you have that old guy in the bar who spends the whole game not leaving bc he doesnt want to face his wife#and she never goes to the bar to actually look for him and just talks about it if anything#the guy with the blue tunic talks a lot about linebeck and his ship and almost gives the impression that he really wants to talk to him#but yknow. doesnt. theres the women that tells you about docks being shut down and how linebeck is the only person who's showed up#the woman you see at the broken bridge who's just like oh well! time to wait til someone fixes it.#even the guy fixing the bridge iirc is like well fuck i gotta do it or else oshus is going to bitch at me abt it#everyone seems reluctant to act which makes for an interesting way in how our main crew stands out#it is less so oh theyve been chosen specifically for this its moreso they're the ones who are fucking doing something about this#for their own various reasons some of which are more selfish but theyre still doing something#will likely have more stuff to say when im done but ofc we have other characters in the game who have to do with this#anyways. linebeck is so animated all of the fucking time it's great i dont think theres any other character that moves as much as him#when he's just standing around to talking to link it's great. he's so ready to get going.#it works with him being an anxious mess and also with like. oh he's probably understimulated. you know he's got a nasty case of wanderlust#i can put it with the idea that he's understimulated and afraid to stim in public so he's just constantly moving#he probably drums his fingers on tables bounces his leg when sitting paces around switches the way he sits or lays down often#tbh this kinda fits in with him being one of the main characters who takes action moreso than a lot of other characters#his arc culminates in him taking action he's going after the ghost ship he's moving around the world the only issue is that one of the#actions he takes is running away from his problems literally n metaphorically (tho idk if facing the jolene problem is a good idea for him)
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torchickentacos · 12 days ago
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Okay, I've spoken to several of you who like both of these things and I need to know how deep this runs because it's an 'if I had a nickel for each time this thing happened, I'd have (x) nickels, which isn't a lot but it's weird that it's happened (x) times' thing-
#contestshipping#shuuharu#totally ok to rb/add commentary in the tags. i am so nosy#I am TRULY curious because I have anecdotally/personally found such a huge overlap lmao. I can name like five or six of you.#which-again- not a lot but given the community's dwindling current size that feels rather notable?#it makes total sense to me tbh. obviously there's large differences#but I feel like it taps into a similar 'poorly socialized guy x the girl who hates him but oh wait there's mutual growth because of E/O'-#- kinda thing.#again obviously there's way more to P&P than that. literary besties don't kill me. but like you see my simplified point right lol?#there's also way more to Lizzie and Darcy than that but you know what I meannnnnnnnnnn#sorry for the disclaimers but i can hear the 'shipping has ruined your ability to do literary analysis' brigade from here lmfao.#like okay well maybe for you. i can multitask but this is my shippy blog so of course I'm focusing on that part more BUT ANYWAYS#i've just met way too many people who like both things for me to not make a poll about it at this point.#or is it just a thing of how p&p is so popular and iconic that ANY random fandom niche would have a similar overlap???#idk. does anyone want to make a poll for their fandom niche and see if it's just a P&P thing???#let's compare. besties. let us band together#someone else do this for their own ship/corner/niche/etc#and of course tumblr polls are statistically useless in most ways available BUT it's interesting.
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chatdae · 4 months ago
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Grace FUMBLED Ryan! BAD parenting to preach respect and then act contrarily (ie saying she wants him to feel safe, then not allowing him any autonomy). She should've let him leave and come back... or at least explained why she didn't want him to leave before deciding (ex: 'Homelander will kidnap you', etc). She needed to let him make the decision for himself... agh. AAAAA.
And now Butcher's no use because he's committed to being evil and can't offer ANYTHING good to Ryan!!! He was so right, they NEEDED to give Ryan more space... I know the external pressures seemed impossible, but dammit, Grace, this was no way to beat the odds!
(this is about The Boys season four)
#ryan butcher#the boys#How much does Ryan know about his dad's upbringing?#Because he's right... Grace trapping him would've been like Vought and young Homelander... AAAGH#I hate it!!! When the heroes are genuinely more moral than the villains#but they make the same fatal mistakes and doom their cause in the process!!#AAA!!! GRACE!!!!#I don't hate her. I think she was dead wrong but I do not despise her. I know she meant it from the bottom of her heart--#--when she said she loves him.#But as she said it I couldn't help but imagine Barbara saying that to young John in the exact same way...#Grace may not have wanted to be like that but her actions would've had the same effect.#It hurts because I know so much where she's coming from#but it's just dead true that they can't reach a happy ending by treating someone so inhumanely.#Anyway. I hurt#Homelander is EVIL and THE BAD GUY#and this is not mutually exclusive with the fact that HE SHOULD NOT HAVE BEEN TREATED LIKE THAT (how Vought raised him)#And it HURTS because the protagonists who were able to get to Ryan understood the first part (Homelander evil)#but not the second!!!! (His upbringing was a moral abomination)#It hurty it hurty because I WANT Ryan to heal...I want SOME kind of closure to what happened to the kid Homelander once was...#Ryan and his dad (insofar as he is Ryan's dad) had the potential to get to that place Hughie described...that place of forgiveness#where it's not win all vs lose all.... where it's confronting hell and making something good out of it...#Homelander was corrupting the trust he and Ryan were building by traumatizing Ryan and pushing him to do evil things....#..but god...GODDD....Hughie was SO RIGHT in his speech... what he and Victoria had is the answer. That's the answer!!!#And there was a MERE GLIMMER of a chance that Ryan and Homelander could enact that healing#And damn!! After the name of the game being 'kill Homelander' for the other three seasons#seeing the answer be 'violence only exacerbates suffering.. let's make things better instead' .... It would've been so amazing...#ah! Too good to be true!!!!#Butcher saying 'If where you feel safest is with Homelander then I won't stop you' HIT SO HARD#knowing that Ryan has felt so afraid....#they made it about the relationship between a child and their abusive parent and uh BIG SURPRISE it's breaking me
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sskk-manifesto · 9 months ago
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(´・ᴗ・ ` )
#I really like the “We're the bad guys' enemy” line. For someone I generally despise Dazai has all my favourite lines in this show…#Idk I can't really vibe with the unbalance that there is between s/kk.#Like when push comes to shove‚ Dazai has the power to keep Chuuya alive or let him die.#I understand why they make a compelling dynamic in their complexity‚ but it just doesn't do it for me.#I'm a little sad my opinion on them hasn't really changed since I watched the anime for the first time...#Also; I really can't vibe with Chuuya allowing Dazai to kill Q. Yes I know Chuuya cares about his comrades deeply.#Yes I know it can be interpreted as Chuuya seeing himself in Q as a living weapon and being disgusted by it#(though I honestly don't think that was intentional of the author).#Yes I know Chuuya is a mafioso and kills people. No I don't think your personal issues justify you being a dick to other people I'm sorry.#Back to my main annoyance with the episode: I must have already talked about this but I hate hate hate the narrative#“the mafia works for the city” “the mafia deeply loves the city too” it's so so sickening and insulting please stop I'm begging.#Please visit any actual city with a rooted mafia presence for once in your life (signed: someone whose hometown was destroyed by the mafia.#The writers really don't know what they're talking about and‚ politely‚ it's offensive.)#Also b/sd keeping being extremely nationalist with Mori (who's largely depicted unsimphatetically for the first part of the episode)–#bringing up western thinkers and subtly mocking Fukuzawa for not knowing them–#and Fukuzawa (the righteous man. the noble spirit and just soul in this episode and Mori's antithesis)–#stepping forward to say that he knows strategists from the east (because who else would he need?)#I don't know if it's meant to symbolize the conflict with an hostile and invading foreign power (the Guild).#But it does come across as. A very isolationist way of thinking.#I know it's subtle but it's really evident for me. And I didn't want to talk about this any further…#But by bringing actual examples of this I hope I can better explain why I think that b/sd holds nationalist views–#and that I'm not just making it up out of nowhere. Otherwise I fear I'd only come off as pettily hostile to b/sd in everything#That's it. I feel like I've been losing a lot of mutuals over my main recently due to not shutting up (sorry)#so I suppose it's only fair I lose them on here too pffttt.#Tune in next week for more bad takes#random rambles
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primus-why · 3 months ago
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#i ran out of tags on my last reblog.#but yeah basically i wish the high guard leaned more into that toxic masculinity that they had going on#you know the type of masculinity where guys egg each other on to be more an more aggressive/violent/strong etc#the type of masculinity where... when asked ''how did it get like this? why did you and your friends take it so far?'' the guy doesn't know.#they get swept up in. let megs get swept up in this shield of strength and power which makes him feel (in the moment) not helpless.#but it goes too far. he does things he can't take back. his best friend is horrified by him-- doesn't ACCEPT him anymore.#he and Orion argue and instead of defending Sentinel Orion defends a random cronie and gets shot.#cue that moment of regret. except in this case he wouldn't catch Orion and go ''why... i'm done saving you.''#instead he'd go ''why...'' notice the cronie is trying to flee and Orion begs him to not become the monster Sentinel was.#but Megs takes offense to that. is he for real?? ''I am nothing like Sentinel. and I thought you of all people would know that...''#''... I'm the only one strong enough to fix things. It's what's best for everyone.'' ''D... no...'' ''Sorry Orion. Cybertron needs me.''#*drops him to shoot the cronie trying to escape*#Orion is so hurt. his sense of jutice is wounded but so is his spark. he dies and comes back as prime. and megs isn't happy to see him.#Starscream stands behind him emboldens Megs. the High Guard refuses to bow to another Prime. Megs now stands firmly in opposition to Optimus#this is because Starscream sees Megs as strong but easily manipulated. he thinks with him at the helm that he'll have a shield#while he basically runs the HG behind the scenes#Optimus and Megs fight. Megs loses. all his blustering about being the savior of Cybertron is thrown back in his face#it's embarrassing. he feels helpless. he never wanted to feel helpless again.#instead of banishment Megs shoves Optimus' outstretched hand aside-- he KNOWS he is in the RIGHT.#and just UGHHH THE HIGH GUARD CREATING THEIR OWN MONSTER BY SPURRING HIM ON!#no one is able to help Megs regulate his emotions he just feels bad and his new friends tell him to punch someone about it! it's not healthy#I WIIIISH I COULD LIKE IT MORE
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