#your ask didn't come across as passive-aggressive at all so no worries!

[five-rivers]

Little thing inspired by various Justice League summons Danny posts I've seen about.

.

Interdimensional travel was hard.

It was a true statement, and one that, in retrospect, was obvious. Of course interdimensional travel was hard. It was reaching out of your reality and into one that had an entirely different set of rules. However, having an interdimensional portal in one's basement tended to skew one's understanding of these things. That was why it took Danny so long to realize that the Observants were actually worried about him.

"Wait," he said, looking up from the (admittedly very passive-aggressive) report the crowd of Observants had just dropped on his (already crowded) desk. "You want to change my summoning ritual because you think other dimensions might hurt my human half?"

"Some of them certainly will," said one of the Observants, testily.

"I didn't know you cared about that," said Danny, still somewhat stunned.

"We normally wouldn't," admitted the Observant, "but although the position of Ghost King is, politically, a figurehead, you are metaphysically vital to the Realms as a whole. Damage to you is to be avoided, when possible."

"Uh huh," said Danny, looking back down at the summoning ritual change paperwork. Although, through a combination of Danny's own nature and the nature of time across dimensional barriers, Danny still looked fourteen and spent a great deal of his time going to school in Amity Park, he had years of experience interpreting the Observants' paperwork under his belt. "Yeah, it's just that I don't think this is the best way to, like. Do that."

"It is the best way to protect you!" said the Observant who had, apparently, been selected as the group's spokesperson.

"Maybe," agreed Danny, who wasn't entirely sure that was true. "But I feel like some of these modifications would kind of be a problem for wherever I wound up."

"Then they ought not to summon you."

While Danny agreed with that sentiment in spirit (getting summoned was almost always inconvenient and annoying), in practice, he wasn't so sure. "I don't think there's any way to communicate that to the guys who are summoning me. Like, some of them get me with old Pariah Dark rituals. And most of them don't really care if their mistakes screw over other people, so..."

"Next to the well-being of the Realms, that is a minor concern."

Danny didn't disagree with that, but he wasn't about to waste time arguing with the Observants about it. They just didn't get it. He tapped his finger on another section that was bothering him. "Also, this seems to keep me from getting out of the summoning circle at all. If someone is summoning me to ask for help, that's going to keep me from doing much."

"It will also keep you from inadvertently exiting into a hostile environment."

"Even in my home universe?" asked Danny, pointedly. "This seems like something more geared to imprisonment than protection."

The Observants were silent.

"Oh, come on, guys, really? Again?"

The Observants scattered.

Danny sighed and picked up the paperwork. He didn't think it was all bad ideas, honestly, but he needed a second opinion that hadn't tried to stuff him in the Sarcophagus of Forever Sleep Mark 2.

Maybe Clockwork would look it over for him.

.

"It isn't an entirely terrible concept," said Clockwork, "except for the obvious drawbacks."

"The whole being trapped in the summoning circle bit," said Danny.

Clockwork nodded. "To be fairer than they deserve, there is no way to modify that portion of a summoning ritual in some types of universes but not others. Not from our own side of things, in any case."

"And I mostly can't get at the other side," said Danny with a groan. He perched on the back of Clockwork's chair. "I do want to make sure that I, I don't know, fit with other universes enough that I won't completely demolish them just by existing."

Clockwork hummed. "There are some ways to do that. There are drawbacks, however."

"Bigger drawbacks than accidentally nuking a planet because my radiation is different than theirs?"

"It depends on your perspective, I suppose."

Danny sighed. "Go ahead and tell me, then."

Clockwork picked up a pen. "You are a shapeshifter. You have multiple forms, one of which cannot be harmed through any normal means and which similarly would have little negative affect on the environment unless you acted to cause negative effects. Change the current ritual so that a summoning puts you in that form, and then further change it so that you cannot leave the circle unless you are in a form that will not automatically cause harm or be harmed by the laws of that universe."

"You mean my Ghost King form."

"All your forms are your Ghost King form."

"You know what I mean."

"I do," said Clockwork, smiling.

"It freaks people out, though."

"Your current form might, as you say, freak people out," said Clockwork. "If your summoners were, say, ants."

"Is that likely?"

"Not particularly. But consider the multiverse. Not all of your summoners will be human."

Danny crossed his arms, frustrated that there wasn't an easy solution. "I guess I could always shapeshift into something nonthreatening after. Hard to see if it's something safe without running into

"You can do more than that."

"I can?"

"Yes," said Clockwork, setting the pen to paper. "Let me show you."

.

The summoning circle shimmered and shivered as Constantine and Zatanna recited the chant, their voices rising and falling. Batman and other members of the League stood by, watching, waiting.

This, this ritual, wasn't their first choice. It wasn't their second, third, or fourth choice, either. But nothing else they had tried worked, and the entire world was at stake.

They were summoning the King of All Ghosts. An eldritch monstrosity that had once tried to conquer all realities. But the alternative was worse. Much worst. At least, with the King of All Ghosts, there was a chance that they could negotiate and that it'd want the Earth more or less intact for the sake of conquering it. At least, with this kind of summoning, they could offer a sacrifice, a bargain, a deal.

And if Constantine was good at anything, it was deals.

The lines of the summoning circle flared green, then pure white, and, without any other fanfare, the King of All Ghosts was there.

It filled the circle with starry darkness, struck with nebulae and aurorae. The clouds rippled as a star died near its heart, fiery cataclysms spreading throughout the being. A crown like the accretion disk of a black hole burned around its highest extremity.

Something like a voice, echoing and many-layered, emanated from the being. "Nghftùsh phlarûm âzgûm (1)." It paused, and the League felt it examine the area more closely. "Ko wgâ âzgûm nghftùsh derza. Ko gok hubhûfh fhtù gâh mglwnuh...(2)"

Constantine swore. "Oh, bollocks, I don't know that one. Would it be too much to ask that one of these things speak English? Just a little?"

"Nghftùsh ak. Ko ngngi. (3)"

"Zatanna," said Batman, "could a spell let us understand one another?"

"Kù-nghînku bùr fùmúu umni snîgûrip. (4)" It seemed to bend closer for all that it didn't move. "Nghftùsh laglúfhâk krîk ko phlî ak phlorza. Chthe nî hîhnâ, ka. (5)"

"I think I understand a little," said Captain Marvel, raising a hand. "I think it understands us just fine."

"Hagthu. Nghftùsh ngngi ùk nî chthe kûmpù nû gâ. (6)"

"It wants to get out of the circle," said Captain Marvel.

The veils of green light that shrouded the being rippled. "Dal phlù. (7)"

"Not without an agreement in place, you're not," said Constantine.

"Gagthashîzgathg. (8)"

"God," whispered Flash, "that hurts my throat just hearing it."

Batman shot him a glare, then stepped forward. They'd prepared a list of demands. Most of them were negotiable, but it was better to start something like this with things you were willing to remove or throw away. It took several minutes for Batman to read the whole thing.

"Ku. Chthal lohúfhâk hagthu. Fhta nghftùsh kâk phlorza ko thru. (9)"

"What did it say?" asked Batman.

"I'm... I think it said it'll do it, but it needs something from us in return."

Batman nodded. They'd expected something like this. Whatever it asked for, it would, without a doubt, be exorbitant. Then, they'd go back and forth, reducing each of their demands until they'd reached a deal both sides hated, but could accept. Constantine had bet that, at minimum, the King of All Ghosts would want the entire population of Earth as slaves.

"Nghftùsh kâk hû ko mglwno nî phnglâ gho-lobi. (10)"

"Uh," said Captain Marvel. "I think he said one of our lives."

"Hik! Rlo phlarâk kruk nîk ghû. (11)"

"Not just any of us," said Marvel. "It has to be someone who's a parent."

A tension fell over the room. They'd known they'd have to sacrifice something. A single life wasn't much, but for the King of All Ghosts to specify a parent...

"But are you sure it's just one?" pressed Constantine.

The King of All Ghosts gave off a sense of... exasperation? "Úzg, hû. (12)"

"One," said Captain Marvel. "Just one."

"And just us, not our kids or anything?"

"Nghftùsh ngngi ùk e nghuu. Gù phlarâk fush ko du? (13)"

"No, it doesn't want children. They're... wrong, somehow?"

"And it's not a sex thing?" Constantine sounded... strangely hopeful.

"Hik! Fhtùl! (14)"

"No," said Captain Marvel. "And... something about fat, maybe?"

"Oh, we're definitely getting eaten, then," said Constantine, with forced cheer. "I volunteer, then. It's not like my kids are sitting up waiting for me or anything."

"Hik nuk. Ngngi ko. E hâta phlarâk lerzaolûm. (15)"

"Not you, there's... something wrong with your soul."

"Oh, he's a picky eater, too, huh?"

"Let's not antagonize him, okay?" said Flash. "He's kind of-- He's kind of looming, right now."

And so it was. Somehow. Without moving.

"Who will... satisfy you?" asked Batman.

The entity did not move, but it managed to indicate Batman anyway.

"Very well," said Batman, before anyone could even attempt to talk him out of it. After all, his life for the lives of everyone in this universe was a very good deal. "Take me."

For the first time, the King of All Ghosts moved, all that darkness, all that light, rushing towards Batman.

There was a burst of blinding light.

When everyone opened their eyes again, a boy with black hair, blue eyes, and a jawline that bore more than a passing resemblance to Batman's was stepping out of the summoning circle.

"That's much better," he said, stretching. "No offense, dude, but you kind of suck at Ghost Speak." He turned to Batman. "What I was asking for was a template so I could exist in your universe and do what you want without accidentally blowing it up because of incompatible physics, but whatever. Not sure how you guys got me eating you out of that."

"You wanted a human appearance so you could better conquer this world?" asked Batman.

"Uh, no? You've got a pretty strong clause against conquering the world in your paperwork there. You're probably thinking about Pariah Dark, but he's old news." The boy smiled widely. "Let's get started on your problem, okay?"

I've been summoned.

You haven't summoned me before. You have a nice space station here...

I can. You can't.

Inter-dimensional language differences are so annoying.

I hope you can do something. This will be difficult, otherwise.

Good. I don't want to be in this circle forever.

Close enough.

Figures (literally, 'certainly').

Okay. That sounds good. But I need something from you.

I need one of you to be my template (literally, life-pattern).

No! It's like being a parent.

Yes, one.

I don't want your children. What is wrong with you?

No! Gross!

No way. Not you. You're crazy (literally, your soul is cracked).

[niallhorxns]

Niall Horan x Reader: Not Like Him

Prompt: Because of your past, you hate confrontation. One day, Niall comes home particularly grumpy.

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: anxiety, past verbal abuse mention

A/N: hi all!!! continuing to try and post on here. please feel free to send any niall x reader prompts / ideas my way :)

You’re in the midst of putting a dish you just washed away when you hear the front door open, then suddenly slam shut. The pictures hanging on the wall rattle as you peer around the corner anxiously. The first thing you see is Niall bustling through the door. Normally, having Niall home would cause a surge of warmth and excitement to rush through you– but today, instantly, you recognize that something about his demeanor is off. 

He throws his flannel on the chair and with his back facing you, runs his hand through his hair. When he turns to you, there’s no warm smile or cheerful greeting. Instead, he takes a few steps then tosses his keys on the counter, letting them slide carelessly across the surface. He makes no effort to even acknowledge your existence. 

Instantly, a lump forms in your throat, making it harder and harder to breathe. You hate tension… Or any sort of confrontation, really. Your parent’s entire marriage was built off tension and confrontation– passive aggressive comments and slamming doors leading to screaming, which then led to shattered dishes or dented walls. 

Your father had a temper. And it didn't matter how well behaved or helpful or unseen you were. Something always managed to spark his anger. The nights he drank were worse, and as the years went on, the sober version of himself made less and less of an appearance. 

Although you didn't recognize it at the time, looking back, you knew that you spent the vast majority of your childhood living on edge– always waiting for the yelling or the screaming. You were afraid more often than not. And that wasn't something you could just unlearn when you were old enough to leave– no matter how far away you were.  

In fact, it took years of hard work to heal from the trauma you'd experienced. But for so long, it felt like no matter how much therapy you attended or self-help books you read, there was always a part of you that was just stuck. 

Until you met Niall. 

Niall was the missing piece. His presence alone was healing. He was calm and safe and consistent. He was patient and gentle and kind. And when you finally got up enough courage to tell him about your childhood, he listened carefully, his brows furrowed somberly. It was like your trauma caused him physical pain– that's how much he loved you– how much he felt with you. 

With Niall, you could safely work on communicating without screaming matches or slamming doors. It had taken time, but slowly, piece by piece, you started to rebuild, until you actually felt like you could trust someone again. 

And of course, even now, in the midst of whatever this unknown territory was, you trust him. But despite that, tension is radiating off from him. It’s almost palpable in the air– suffocating you. 

You have to say something– Niall will understand. 

“How was your day?” You ask nervously, already knowing the answer. 

Niall walks right past you to the fridge, pulling the door open and ignoring your question.  

You bite your lower lip, your anxiety settling like a rock in your stomach. This feeling felt too familiar… 

“Is everything okay?” you ask. He pulls out a beer, showing no sign that he even heard you. He cracks it open, the sound alone sending shivers down your spine as you’re instantly reminded of all the nights your father would drink five beers before even recognizing you were home. But Niall is not your dad, you remind yourself. Niall is gentle. Niall is kind. 

He takes a long swig before walking towards the stairs.

“Niall?” you say, worry evident in your tone. 

He doesn’t stop. 

Niall isn't like him. Niall cares about your feelings. Niall loves you.

You follow him a few steps, knowing that you can’t let him just go to bed this… angry? Upset? Whatever he is– 

“Niall, what’s going on–”

“Oh my God!” He bellows suddenly, waving his arms and spinning in his tracks to finally look at you. “Can you leave me alone for one goddamn second?!”

Before you can quiet down your brain or repeat all the ways Niall was different from your father, your body reacts as if they are one and the same. You flinch harshly from his sudden movements and loud tone, like your body remembered exactly how it felt to live in your house twenty years ago. And before you can help it, the glass cup in your hand falls to the floor, shattering around your feet. 

The noise makes you snap out of your trance. Looking down at the mess you made, your mouth goes dry. Your whole body has already begun shaking and you can feel the tears fighting their way to your eyes. 

“I’m sorry–” you whisper, choking back a sob. Then you brace for the screaming– the berating. Clumsy, stupid, idiot. 

Nervously, you kneel down, tucking your hair behind your ear while you try to pick up the broken glass. What the hell is wrong with you? It’s obvious Niall had a bad day. So why couldn’t you just leave him alone? The last thing he needs is you making and being a mess. 

“Sorry–“ you mutter, it’s so quiet though, you doubt he hears. “I’m sorry,” you repeat. You’re so anxious you don’t even grab a dustpan, you just start collecting pieces of shattered glass in your hand. Your vision quickly becomes blurry with tears as they streak down your cheeks. 

“Shit,” you vaguely hear, but you don’t stop trying to clean up. You’re frantic, grabbing whatever you can off the floor before he can get more upset about it. 

Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

Through your clouded vision, you can’t see what you’re collecting off the floor– all you know is that you have to keep cleaning it up.

“Baby, stop–”  

The voice is distant.

“I promise I’ll clean it up,” you say, hands shaking so violently, you wonder how no pieces have sliced open your skin yet. 

“Baby–” 

It’s just background noise. 

“Hey, hey, hey.” 

You vaguely see a figure kneel beside you and before you can wave him away, Niall reaches out– hand cupping yours before forcing open your fingers. As soon as the glass is out of your hand, you see him reach up to toss it on the counter before kneeling back down to be on your level. 

All it takes is one arm wrapping around your shoulders for you to break. Suddenly, you can’t hold back the sob that’s been sitting in your throat. The second it escapes from your lips, Niall pulls you into his chest tightly. 

“C’mere,” he exhales, chin resting on your head while he slides the both of you back against the cupboard. You let out a choked gasp and cling to him. 

His arm winds tightly around you, locking you in place. “I’m so sorry,” he breathes.  

“I have to clean it up–” you cry.  

“Shh,” he soothes. He rocks you on the floor like that, his arms wrapped around you securely.  Your breathing is choppy as you shake against him. Niall grabs your bicep with his hand, holding you steady while his thumb rubs up and down your bare skin gently, trying to calm you down. 

You’re not sure how long it takes for you to feel like you can think again. Time stands still as you settle into his embrace. Niall’s embrace– you remind yourself. Not your father’s. Because your father wouldn’t embrace you after yelling like that. And he certainly wouldn’t embrace you after you broke a dish. 

After a while, your breathing gradually returns to normal again. Moments later, you feel him shift. “Did you cut yourself?” he asks carefully. 

He supports the majority of your weight, all but lifting you off the floor before scanning the length of you. 

You shake your head. At least you didn’t think you did. 

Niall nods before reaching his hand out. “C’mon, let’s get away from the glass.”

You take it willingly, sighing as you feel the warmth from his palm spread through your hand. He guides you away from the pile of glass and towards the kitchen island. He helps you settle into one of the tall stools. 

“Hey,” you hear him whisper. But you’re still staring at the mess, so worried about cleaning it up. Until you feel firm, but careful hands cupping each side of your face– forcing your attention to shift towards him. “Hey,” he repeats. 

His calloused thumb trails along your cheek. Before you know what you’re doing, you’re leaning into his touch, craving his comfort. 

“Did you cut yourself?” he asks again, clearly not trusting your earlier response. 

To be fair– you’re not even sure that you trust your earlier response. By now, you feel like you’re actually back in your own body, and feel no pain. So you shake your head, this time more convincingly.  

As soon as you give the confirmation that you’re alright, Niall takes a step forward and wraps his arms around your shoulders, crashing his body against yours.  

“I’m so sorry,” he says, lips ghosting against the top of your head. “I didn’t mean to yell like that.”

You nod into his shirt, pinching the fabric between your fingers and breathing in the smell of him. Niall is not your dad, you repeat. Niall apologizes. Niall loves you. 

“It’s okay,” you whisper, you were slightly more calm. “I’m sorry I was so annoying– I’m sorry I broke the glass.”

You feel Niall shake his head above you. “No–” he says firmly. “I don’t give a shit about the glass. I had a shitty day,” he sighs. “A really shitty day. But that’s not your fault.”

“I should have just given you space.”

He shakes his head again, pulling back from his embrace to look at you earnestly. “No– We’re supposed to talk about things. I promised you I’d always talk to you about things, and I broke that today.”

He brushes a few loose strands of hair from your face, before wiping some stray tears stuck under your eyes. “I know how much yelling activates you– I know it sets you off, and I just wasn’t thinking.”

“You’re allowed to get annoyed,” you remind him. “And angry. You’re allowed to yell.” 

“That’s not how you and I communicate,” he says. “That’s not ever how I want to communicate, and I’m sorry. I’ll do better next time”

Squeezing him tighter, you nod against his chest. 

Because Niall is not your father and you believe him.

[blog-o-meter]

House of Whispers (Part 2) - Nicholas Alexander Chavez x fem!reader

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!

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.

[spooklies]

# Resident Evil - Platonic Yandere Leon S. Kennedy (PROFILE)

Type of Yandere: The type of yandere Leon would classify as depends on the type of relationship you have with him but if we were to generalize then I'd say in all versions he'd be the clingy and overprotective type. He's someone that would constantly worry about his child, sibling, or best friend if he didn't know where they were or what they were doing. Leon will spam your phone until you reply and then freak out if you take too long and assume the worst has happened. He's the very definition of dramatic but all of that stems from his constant state of paranoia.

Love Language: His love language would be gift giving and words of affirmation. He enjoys seeing the way your face lights up whenever he gives you something you wanted which in turn makes you very spoiled since he's always gifting you stuff. As for words of affirmation it doesn't take much for him to praise you. Oh, you finally fixed your sleep schedule? Leon is happier about that than you are! You passed a spelling test in school with only having missed one word? He'll celebrate with a movie night with all of your favorite snacks! Sometimes it gets overbearing but Leon is pretty good at calculating boundaries.

Their Biggest Fear: Your health is his biggest concern. He'll always ask how you're doing and if you've been eating alright. So if he ever finds out your health is declining in any way then he'll immediately jump to the worst scenario possible and fret over your well-being until you're well again. That goes for physical and mental health. If you decline your health for too long then Leon will take things into his hands and force that caretaker role onto himself without your say on the matter.

Kidnapping: If this is an adopting scenario then I see this as a possibility but other than that I don't see him kidnapping anybody. Maybe you were in a bad situation at your current home so he went ahead and "adopted" you without your biological parents's consent or perhaps even yours.

How Easy is it to Escape?: If we're talking about the forced adoption scenario then escaping from that situation is nearing impossible. He'll make sure to keep tabs on you at all times and if you try to "run away from home" then he'll ground you.

Punishment(s): Just as I mentioned above this one of his punishments would consist of grounding you (keeping you in the house and possibly even restricting your access to the T.V. or your phone) if you were to act out. If he was your best friend and the two of you had gotten in an argument then expect him to be petty for the following days until either of you apologize and make up. As your brother then the worst I see him doing is being passive-aggressive until he's gotten his point across.

Difference to Other Yanderes: Leon is a powerful man with plenty of connections to people with more influence than him. He has his ways of getting what he wants so nine times out of ten he'll get what he wants even if that means getting his hands red.

Additional Notes: Overall a platonic yandere Leon is very caring and selfless when it comes to the person he's doting on. He wouldn't want to lay a hand on them and would not hesitate to kill anybody that does.

[autolenaphilia]

Okay, here is a perfect example of the debating tactic known as JAQing off, where instead of making a series of assertions and statements, you frame them as leading and accusatory questions. It's very condescending and annoying to read, as it seems to presume the reader is dumb enough to fall for this technique. It's rude.

Especially as some some of this are accusations against me "Why are you not mentioning", "Why didn't you mention", "Why are these not defended and explained:"

Just say what you mean! It's actually less rude than making these clearly leading and accusatory questions against me. Just saying that I'm ignoring the privacy issues with the Firefox browser would have been far less rude than this insulting rigmarole.

Also adding "if I get a response saying they're not reading all this I will laugh." in the tags. Again, more smug condescension. Also tl:dr would be a valid response to this barrage of leading questions, it's practically a gish gallop. Again, actually saying what you mean instead of making a series of leading questions would have come across less aggressive, and easier to read and respond to. You are not Socrates.

Anyway, to answer the questions that actually refer towards me and this post, I never said Mozilla is perfect and exempt from criticism, I just wrote i wish what people knew what Mozilla actually is before they criticized it. It's not an all-in-one refutation of all criticisms of Mozilla. I didn't even bring up the question of privacy. This is therefore mostly unrelated to my actual post, and should have been its own post.

I won't answer all of these questions, they are so leading in nature that its pointless. The answer is already in the question for most of them. You might say that this invalidates my entire response, but that's a classic JAQ-off/gish gallop tactic. I'm actually being very nice here and not blocking you immediately, because coming onto my blog with a series of passive aggressive leading questions that are only barely related to what my post is about expecting answers is very rude, and I would be justified in blocking you immediately.

Some of these issues are conspiratorial claims, like the one about the IRS audit, where a lack of concrete basis for the accusation implied is disguised through the JAQing off. Some of these are "telemetry is evil!"

And some of them are valid criticisms. There are reasons to be worried about how Google funds Mozilla, and the data Mozilla collects. I find it annoying that Google is the default search engine in every install of Firefox and I have to change it. I don't view the issues as bad enough to switch from Firefox, mainly because I'm not against telemetry in itself, but I respect those who do.

The reality of these issues lead to the creation of Librewolf, a fork of Firefox meant to preserve privacy. It's a non commercial open-source community run project, and I respect what they are doing.

Since you constantly evade making clear statements via JAQing off, I got curious to see what your alternative to Firefox is, and checked your blog, and it's fucking Vivaldi. It's a closed-source proprietary freeware browser run by a commercial company based on chromium. Just lol. "if you are not paying for it, it means you are not the customer, you are the product being sold" fully applies to Vivialdi, since it's a commercial company and it needs to make money.

I can respect someone who switches to Librewolf because of their valid concerns with Mozilla's privacy policy, not someone who switches to a commercial proprietary browser. If you are going to use chromium, at least have the decency to use ungoogled-chromium. I'm not going to be condescended to by a JAQ-off using vivaldi.

It's funny how clearly uninformed a lot of criticism of Mozilla and its browser Firefox is. Like people say "it's just another corporation, out to make profit, just like Google." And that ordinary users promoting Firefox are just giving them free advertising.

It's in basically any post criticizing Mozilla, including on this site. Like using tumblr search I quickly found a post that was largely positive, but argued that Mozilla operates "under capitalist incentives" And outside tumblr I found a blog post out on the interwebs that criticized Mozilla and outright wondered "I don't know if Mozilla's business model ever made sense, it makes a lot more sense if it's something closer to a nonprofit rather than a commercial entity."

Well, let's research the Mozilla Corporation, see what that business model actually is. Let's begin that research by going to the wikipedia article, and read the two introductory paragraphs. And it turns out that it's "a wholly owned subsidiary of the Mozilla Foundation", which is a non-profit.

"The Mozilla Foundation will ultimately control the activities of the Mozilla Corporation and will retain its 100 percent ownership of the new subsidiary. Any profits made by the Mozilla Corporation will be invested back into the Mozilla project. There will be no shareholders, no stock options will be issued and no dividends will be paid. The Mozilla Corporation will not be floating on the stock market and it will be impossible for any company to take over or buy a stake in the subsidiary."

Turns out that it is not just "closer to a non-profit", it is literally a non-profit. Turns out you only needed two paragraphs on wikipedia to learn that, the most basic online research possible, which basically every post I found criticizing Mozilla failed to do.

This is entirely different from any other entity calling itself corporation, which is all about creating profit or money for its shareholders, the "capitalist incentives" spoken about earlier.

If you read further into that article, you will learn that the Mozilla corporation literally only exists separate from the foundation for tax and legal purposes, but it's still a non-profit operation.

This makes it reasonably immune from the enshittification process I've written about before. there is no incentive to fuck over the experience for end users for the sake of shareholder profits, like what tumblr is doing right now.

It means that Firefox is an exemption to the rule that "if something is free, you are the product", because there is no product to produce profits for shareholders, it's a charitable endeavour for a free and open internet, as laid out in the Mozilla manifesto.

This doesn't mean non-profits make corruption impossible, there is plenty of corruption in non-profit foundations. But unlike actual capitalist corporations, it doesn't have the greed and corruption built in. And if you are going to criticize Mozilla and Firefox, which it does sometimes deserve, you should have your basic facts straight before doing so, if you expect me to take you seriously.

[commentaryvorg]

entirely fair and accurate takes on kaitos love suite event, honestly one of main reasons kaitos event is my favourite is because it doesn't get uncomfortably nsfw vibes like some of the others' (especially considering they're all teenagers AND it's pretty non-consensual... big yikes). but also, as his "ideal", the best outcome would be the object of affection returning his feelings, but in the fantasy, again, his "ideal", he didn't believe it would happen. that seems pretty bad.

Yeeaah, I’ve very deliberately never read a lot of other characters’ Love Suite events and am even more sure about never ever doing so, based on what I’ve gathered about them. Compared to those, I’m sure Kaito’s really is pretty tame and reasonable and one of the better ones, not that there’s a very high bar here.

I get what you’re saying now about how he theoretically should expect his feelings to be reciprocated at least in this “ideal fantasy” where he gets everything he wants - I didn’t quite pick up on that specific point before. That’s an interesting thought, but after considering it… I’m not entirely sure that’s how the fantasies work?

If it really was 100% perfectly “ideal”, then every single thought and action should be something that makes the character happy. But if that was the case, then it might just come across as too perfectly ideal for them to even be able to feel like it’s realistic at all. I went and reread some of the other tamer scenes that I’d read before to check how this is generally handled (Rantaro’s, Ryoma’s and Gonta’s are all nicely platonic), and, yeah, they’re all like this. Rantaro’s sisters are still missing and he’s having to abandon his surrogate younger-sibling-figure to search for them; most of Ryoma’s loved ones are still dead and he outwardly insists that his former manager wouldn’t want to stay with him; Gonta messes up in his attempts to be the perfect gentleman because he knows he still has a lot to learn. The events are still bound by that person’s reality and by how they expect things to work for them. They’re getting a nice reprieve from their troubles, but things aren’t completely perfect and happy. (The one partial exception to this is that Maki never became an assassin in her fantasy and seems to genuinely not remember that part of her life during the dream. That’s interesting, but I’m not sure if there’s actually a significant reason for why she’s the only one, given that Ryoma’s problems are just about as bad as hers. She’s still an orphan, though, so things still aren’t perfect for her.)

So I don’t think that the fact that love-suite-Kaito doesn’t expect his feelings to be reciprocated is any more meaningful than him hypothetically not expecting that in real life. The hotel’s magical dream powers (usually) don’t actually warp a person’s outlook to make them see the world any differently to how they normally do, nor to expect things they wouldn’t reasonably expect in reality, no matter how much they might want them.

(anon also added some tag commentary in their reblog of the initial post that I want to respond to a bit as well)

#i never really thought that the love suite events were *really* that character heavy so mostly the ask was a sudden realisation p late

I agree with you that evidently most of them really aren’t that much about the characters at all (well, presumably, though of course I’ve only seen some of the tamer ones). But here’s the thing - at least some of them could be, in theory, and a couple of them are. Rantaro’s and Ryoma’s are really pretty good - they’re relevant to their issues and give some more insight into their backstories and how they deal with their difficulties in ways that we don’t get to see much of in canon, considering that they both die so early on. (Rantaro’s in particular I might even go so far as to call my favourite piece of Rantaro content - when I reread it earlier I found myself having some Thoughts that may turn into a post of their own.) The “ideal fantasy” concept has potential to be more than just a lazy excuse for romantic and sexual stuff and to actually be used as a tool for some interesting character exploration. It’s just that, unfortunately, most of the time that either didn’t occur to the writers, or they just didn’t care.

It’s kind of like how most characters’ Harmonious Heart events are about something reasonably superficial or at most the character worrying about something they’d already told Shuichi about in their FTEs. Nearly all of them just range from almost no character insight at all, to maybe some but not much more than what we got from their FTEs. …Then there’s Kaito’s, which makes absolute maximum use of the potential of the “Shuichi gains inexplicable mindreading powers” premise to explore the core of Kaito’s issues and allow Shuichi to help him with them to an extent that is simply not possible in any of Kaito’s more regular content, and it’s the best. And, sure, I don’t think anyone else quite has such stubbornly-hidden issues that practically require mindreading to fix them to the point that their Harmonious Heart events could ever be quite as good as Kaito’s. But there’s definitely some characters who I feel could have had one that’s more relevant to their most interesting issues than what they actually got, if the writers had really thought about using this concept to its fullest potential for them.

So, well, I do think it would have been possible for Kaito’s Love Suite event to genuinely be really character-driven (and if that were the case I would personally have also preferred it to not be romantic at all). There are things you could do with the “ideal fantasy” concept that could absolutely be very deliberately about his issues.

What if it drew off Kaito’s deeply-buried subconscious need to have someone he could safely talk to about his weaknesses and worries, without having to be afraid of letting them down by telling them all this? And then, as Kaito vents to him about his worries in the dream, Shuichi realises with dawning horror that he’s the person Kaito’s terrified of admitting any of this to in reality, and that Kaito has no idea that Shuichi’s actually hearing every bit of it right now. And to keep up the “ideal fantasy”, because Kaito reacts very negatively if he tries to do otherwise, Shuichi has to just play along and agree with Kaito’s unhealthy outlook and be all, “Yeah, don’t worry, I won’t tell any of this to your sidekicks, your secret’s safe with me,” even though he wants to do the exact opposite because he knows that’s the best way to help. (That’d be a neat deconstruction of the dodgy non-consensual aspect of the place in a way that didn’t even have to get all nsfw about it.) …Admittedly this would be along rather similar lines to the Harmonious Heart event Kaito already has and probably not quite necessary next to it, but, you know, just as a proof-of-concept example.

Or, instead of that, to make it something different, they could have still made it about the rival thing, but not have the romance be the main point (or not even there at all). Instead, we’d actually spend the scene properly exploring the concept like you talked about: that in some ways Kaito feels more at ease around a rival than a sidekick because there’s no expectation to be completely invincible, that if they’re evenly matched then he’s supposed to lose sometimes as well as win, to be weak as well as strong, and that’s okay. We could even sort of combine this with my previous idea and have Kaito end up kind of accidentally venting a little to his rival about his worries, and then saying, “Y’know, it’s weird. I could never tell any of this to my sidekicks. But it doesn’t matter if you know all this, ‘cuz that doesn’t change the fact that I’m gonna beat you!” Or something like that. Your asks made me realise that I’d actually really enjoy some proper exploration of how Kaito feels about the concept of rivals, and it makes me so frustrated that the only time the game does touch on this topic to any extent is unnecessarily focused on obligatory romance and not really about his issues at all.

#anyway thanks for answering my ask i really loved your commentary it really made me think about why i liked kaitos arc so much

You’re welcome; I’m glad you enjoyed the commentary! Again, I am so happy I could help people who already liked Kaito realise even more of how great he is. :3

[buckybarnesdiaries]

what a nightmare

bucky barnes x reader ⎢ masterlist.

request by @marvel-diaries: Hi wifey❤️ So I came across this image and I’ve been cry laughing for like 5 minutes😂So for 2K I wanted to request something kind of based on this image😂 You’re on your period and Bucky takes care of you for the day! Makes you feel comfortable and goes to the store for you to buy what you need. He ends up calling you on FaceTime because the whole pad/tampon section is just so confusing so he needs your help! At the end of the day you and him are cuddled up on the couch together eating your favorite snacks! Please and thank you❤️

word count: 1k.

warnings/tags: none.

author notes: none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

Join the tag list here.

Once Bucky found you wrapped in your favorite cozy blanket lying on the sofa and with pouty lips, he knew that month your period hit you really hard. You could barely move without feeling cramps all around your lower belly, grunting and curling in a ball with your arms surrounding your abdomen. He left your house without saying a word about where he was going, just placing a soft kiss on your forehead and asking you to not move, to rest. Bucky drove to the closest store, decided to pamper you the whole day or until you felt better. That was the only thing he wanted, to make you smile again and make disappear any pain that you were suffering.

His first stop was the snack sections. Your boyfriend brought you all kinds of junk food —your favorite chocolate bars, chips, candies, peanut butter. Anything he had seen you eating other months, even two bottles of ice cream because one wasn't enough. Bucky bought you one of those stuffed animals with cherry pits inside to put it in the microwave and use it to alleviate the cramps. He took a raccoon. It didn't need an explanation why, it was pretty obvious. He toured the whole supermarket, adding some pizzas to the cart for dinner.

Everything was going okay. Your boyfriend was more than happy to help you and to contribute to your well-being. But that happiness fell into pieces when he reached the pad and tampons sections. “What the hell?” He thought confused like never in his life. If he believed that war was to go to Germany and fight the Nazis was because in his time there weren't too damn many kinds of pad and tampons. They were divided by size, fabrics, brands, smells, colors (...). He didn't know which one you used and he thought about asking somebody working there but each person was a world.

Much to his regret, fucking up the surprise, Bucky took his phone from a pocket and called you via facetime. His heart broke as soon as he saw you on his screen with teary eyes, sniffing in pain.

“Hey, sorry”. He mumbled honeyedly. “Listen, I, uh… came to the store and… what the… hell is all of this? I just wanted to buy you pads or tampons or whatever the hell you use and… honestly, this 's a nightmare”.

You couldn't help but laugh in tears, cleaning them with the back of your hand, just by imagining the situation by the look on his face. He was literally begging for help.

“They're called Tampax Pearl”. You chuckled.

“Yeah, okay… Lemme… Lemme… Just gimme a second”. Bucky was freaking out, touring with his gaze the whole damn hallway.

“They're the color of your eyes”.

“Doll, listen… I ain' playing games, I just wanna go home and never come back”.

Your laughter made you stir because of the lash of pain straight to your ovaries, curling up your legs to your chest.

“Blue and green”.

“My eyes aren't gre— To who the hell are you looking at, uh?”

“You should watch them under the sun, you punk…”

“Your passive-aggressive romanticism overwhel— OH, finally, goddammit”.

You watched the triumphant grimace appearing on his face while adding three packets to the card, trying to glance at what else he had bought with not much success.

“Okay, good… 'M gonna pay, run away and never come back to this place. See you in a minute, doll”.

“Buck”. You called his name when he was about to hang up, not being able to hold back another giggle when you saw his expression turning into pure horror, hoping you didn't ask him for anything else from there. “I love you…”

“I love you too. More than anything. 'M gonna take care of you today, 'kay? Don't you worry, your soldier's comen'”.

You lied down on the sofa after finishing dinner and Bucky cleaned the kitchen, to cuddle, lacing your legs and arms together under your blanket. You felt much better than that morning. You took a warm bath, your pills, a long nap, and filled your stomach with all the things he bought for you —yet having your hot raccoon under your shirt, well pressed to your abdomen. You felt better than in heaven, receiving tender kisses from your boyfriend to any part of your body he had access to, putting more effort and love whenever he could reach your lips from behind.

Bucky was swept off his feet for you, it was something undeniable. You were his anchor, keeping him afloat twenty-four seven. And taking care of you as part of his nature, always feeling that necessity, that urgency for making you feel happy, loved, satisfied in any kind of way. You were his whole life. So, when it came to you, anything was insufficient for him.

Turning around under his firm, warm and fond embrace, you brought your lips to his. It was an ephemeral touch that caused him to close his eyes and sigh completely in love, feeling his heart racing from one second to another under your palm rested on his chest. Your left made his way to the back of his head as soon as Bucky parted your mouth in such a slow-motion to slide his tongue, looking for yours, gently caressing it. Your boyfriend pressed you a little more closely, as if it was possible, letting you almost lie on top of him. There weren't any sexual intentions hidden behind that kiss, just wanting to show him how much you appreciate any effort he did for you.

Both of you ended up breathing through your nostrils, not wanting to pause your session of makeout in the gloomy of your living room. He lived for those long, long kisses, only worrying about tasting your saliva, biting your lips, and playing with your tongue. And, God, Bucky was an expert, causing you soft goosebumps whenever he caressed your back or arms so lovingly that melted your heart completely.

“Thank you”. You whispered as you could, stroking his weak spot beneath his ear with your thumb.

He couldn't help but purr delighted on your mouth, feeling a smile curving up to his lips as he got comfier under your weight after positioning you between his legs, using you as his favorite personal blanket.

“I love you, Buck… So much I can't explain”.

“Try it, darlin'. You have a whole life to bear me”.

“What a nightmare”. You giggled, placing a smooch on top of his nose.

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[stray-kids-react]

Hot Topic

Masterlist

Warnings - Swearing

Genre - Fluff

Pairing - Changbin x Interview Reader

Your boss was a bitch and everyone knew this for a fact, being head of a huge magazine company really went to her head. And being her assistant and part time celebrity interviewer put a lot of stress on your shoulders, but it payed well and you still loved your job nonetheless.

But having to run to a coffee shop at 5 in the morning in uncomfortable through the pourning rain, was definitely not a highlight of your job experience. Your teeth clattering and goosebumps rising on your skin, the rain was pouring down hard it was hard to focus on anything in front of you.

"H-hi can I get two small black coffees, one meduim vanilla mocha, and one large hot chocolate." You ordered, wiping off the mascara that ran down your cheeks.

The cashier nodded cautiously, concerned by the way you looked. The elderly couple sitting not to far away from you was sipping their cups of tea as they boared into your souls it seemed. You knew this day was coming, having such a great couple of days and getting a raise... It was bound to have a small dip so your life isn't like Barbie dolls.

"Name?" The chashier questioned, chewing her gum loud and obnoxiously.

"Y/n." You sighed, trying to maintain some level of composure with that annoying chewing.

You tossled back and forth on the pads of your feet, zoning out due to your tired state. You nearly tripped over your own feet when the cashier called your name, holding a tray filled with burning cups of caffeine. You turned around quickly at the vibration of your phone, alerting you that you boss was becoming impatient.

A dark haired man crashed into you, gasping out of concern immediately. All of the drinks spilled onto new and already drenched jacket, and the rest flew onto your face. You left your eyes closed as you held in the scream trying to crawl out of your lips.

"Shit, I am so sorry." He apologised, helping you to your feet.

"It's okay." You whimpered, voice trembling from the overwhelming emotions forming in your mind.

Before he could grab napkins to help you out, you were already walking back to your home. Tears strolling down your cheeks from a mix of frustration and exhaustion, you knew you needed the day even if it meant taking extra hours the next day.

You poured the bubbles into your bathtub as you called your boss to tell them you wouldn't be showing up today, they sounded passive aggressive as they agreed but demanded you to do extra hours tomorrow. Which included interviewing the kpop boy group Stray Kids.

That's when a lightbulb clicked in your head, the man you rushed into was Seo Changbin. You were a fan of Stray Kids and didn't even recognize your bias because you were so stressed out from work.

"Oh my God..." You sighed, sinking into the water with disappointment in yourself.

-The next day-

"Y/n! Can you help this group to to the proper floor? I'm really busy." Your favored and spoiled Co worker suggested, clearly just wanting to get some time off. You agreed nonetheless.

Eight God like men stood next to each other with innocent confusion in their eyes, they didn't complain like other celebrities or acted snappy either. This made it more frustrating when your co worker made her irresponsible actions your problem to solve, they didn't deserve that type of treatment.

"Hi, I'm y/n l/n I will be your interviewer tonight and I just wanted you all to know how hug of a pleasure it is to have you hear. I'm a huge fan." You revealed, adjusting your posture with a pure smile.

They followed you towards the correct location, couches and chairs set up for the interview. The staff were all busy fiddling around with the equipment to make sure everything was fully prepared, which left you to try and entertain the special guests all by yourself. But before you could speak one more word, your boss rushed towards you.

"I am so thankful for you y/n, I just got a call from Elle magazine asking me if I would be able to interview Rihanna in a few hours, so if you don't mind locking up the building for me. Thanks sweetie." She demanded, tossing you the keys as she waltzed away from you.

It was after supper and you've been working non stop since 6am, and now you had to stay in this hell hole for even longer. A staff member ushered most of Stray Kids to different spots of the set.

"Are you the person I ran into yesterday?" Changbin questioned, close behind you.

"Yeah, I'm sorry I ran out so quickly. This job just is a lot of stress and work." You apologized, confusion furrowed hsi brows as to why you were apologizing.

"Don't worry about it, I actually feel bad for how hard these guys seem to be on you. Do you need any help setting up or anything?" He suggested, a softness in his eyes that made your heart do back flips.

You shook your head, knowing your face was probably stuck in a slightly shocked expression. You were proven this when a small smirk was noticeable on his features as he walked past you to get ready for the interview.

The interview went smoothly, not a awkward moment between you and the band. This is due to being a fan and doing your research before agreeing on the interview, unlike other interviewers who have completely made it unwatchable for some viewers.

You nearly stumbled over your words many times but kept composure each time, the stumbling only ever attempted to happen when you looked at Changbin.

Sending you small winks whenever the camera zoomed in to an other member, and watching you soft eyes everytime you spoke. You could feel the heat on the top of your ears from his simple but effective actions.

Felix noticed Changbin's actions towards you and smirked to himself, he slightly warned him whenever the camera would be focusing on him or if he would be in view. Everyone knew how entertainments were like when it came to dating, and that's why it was exciting when an idol didn't seem to care and wanted to live their lives.

"So I have one last question for you guys." You reassured, reading the last card in your hand.

"What is something you want to tell your fans?" You asked, smiling since you considered yourself a fan.

Each member expressed their love and appreciation for their fans, some sending small hearts from their finger tips before the camera panned away from them. You appreciated how humble and easy going they were, especially after dealing with celebrities like the Paul brothers. The worst interview you've ever had would have to be with Justin Timberlake nonetheless.

You stopped listening to Timberlake after the interview and wanted to try a new genre, and that is how you got into kpop. The first band you became a fan of was Exo, but your ultimate group became the loveable dorks called Stray Kids. You saw yourself as just some regular interviewer that wasn't special in any way, and you never thought any celebrity would give any attention.

The most attention you've got in your career was a handshake you made with Itzy's Lia while interviewing them. That's why it surprised you how Changbin seemed interested in you, since there were so many other people who would give everything they had to be with him.

"Did it work?" Changbin questioned, a genuine smile across his features as you looked in his direction.

"Did what work?" You asked, giggling softly at his puppy like expression.

"Your day seemed tough so I wanted to make you laugh, that's why I was winking. I wanted to break the ice." Changbin explained, fiddling with the ends of his shirt.

His reasoning made your heart flutter much more than if he would've just done it to flirt, it seemed genuine and thoughtful rather than desperate and fuck boy like.

"That's actually really sweet. Thank you." You commented, trying not to show him how much it effected you.

He nodded as a welcome, secretly adoring the that crossed your features.

"I better get going. I have a lot of cleaning up to do." You sighed, beginning to step away from the boy of your dreams.

Changbin glanced towards his band before running after you, a prominent shade of red dipped on the tips of his ears and cheeks.

"If I promise not to spill it over you, do you think I could make you a coffee and help you?" He asked, voice meeker and less confident than it was a few minutes ago.

You agreed to his proposal, trying not to squeal. Your crush wanted to spend time with you, and this was the only time you ever wanted to thank your boss.

[viscountessevie]

This is another anon. But if it's specified that it's a dark!AU why is still deemed offensive?

P.D: I'm sorry I hope I don't sound passive aggressive eng is not my first language and I didn't know how else put it

Hello there! Do not worry about your phrasing at all, you're fine and your English is great!! Thank you for waiting btw I ended up falling asleep before I could answer this 💀

I think you may have missed some of the posts in context to the Dark AU. So Mimi @gisellecygnets - where this fic discussion originated from - has since deleted all the asks about the Dark AU bless her and she explains in this post why and I give my take on why the Dark AU from those anons were harmful:

More Under The Cut:

Basically that's the post that started it all ^^ and while it started out pretty innocent, like "What if Papa and Mary Sharma had to get married out of convenience because Mary got preggers with Eddie before falling in love or a proposal." [Mimi goes more into it in the post so do check it out!]

The part that made me uncomfortable is how quickly that concept evolved in a more sinister manner and there were different Dark AUs popping up and it all ended up making Papa into a murderer and both him and Mary into kidnappers?? And those were the first asks I read at 6 AM IN THE MORNING when I first opened Tumblr so it was disturbing to say the least. And it was the way a certain racial group was portrayed compared to their white counterparts, it was just disheartening to read. This is a romance show after all, not a true crime drama lmao.

I'm just really glad that after Mimi and I talked it through, she was happy to shut it down as well since she didn't agree with the darker versions.

As I say in the post above, Dark AUs can be great if written well with nuance rather than just making the characters extremely OOC and cartoon-like villains. I also talk about the villianisation of The Show!Sharmas in this Bridgerton Fanfic Discourse tag if you'd like to check it out!

Hope this helped explain why that particular Dark AU was upsetting and offended/made a couple of us Desi fans really uncomfortable to see Papa Sharma and Mary portrayed that way as well as seeing extreme harm come to Mama Sharma - this was something I missed pointing out in the OG ask. It's bad enough Mama Sharma is dead but to have her killed so brutally?? Oof was not fun to read on my dash.

[Again to reiterate to everyone who reads this and may want to send an ask telling me I'm policing fics and ideas: I am absolutely not, everyone is free to do whatever they want! I am just pointing out how triggering some ideas may come across, making people feel uncomfortable and it feels like an unsafe space. Which is why I'm thankful that Mimi did eventually make the decision to take them down (I really wouldn't have minded them being up, I was planning to block the Dark AU tag anyway) and this made me feel a little more safer on her blog!]

Thank you for reading everyone and I hope this clarified and answered your question, anon!

[azurevi]

on land where we can touch the moon (2/?)

PART 1 PART 3

A quick note- this is pretty messy. I'm planning as I write, so there'll be information scattered across the words, and it may be overwhelming...kinda. I have added a little note about what happened in this chapter in the end. This series is also up on ao3.

There is, naturally, a reason Azul was stuck with the name 'The Sea Merchant'.

It wasn't a bad name, and there was no hint of degradation in it. It just wasn't particularly suiting. Azul wasn't a merchant. He wasn't even a shopkeeper. He was just invested in a little magic, and this hobby of his got leaked out somehow. 

His magic was certainly something. It's A Deal allowed him to confiscate another person's valued quality in exchange for their wish. Anything could come to life as long as the deal was equal.

Only the drunk and people in desperate need of help ever went to him for help. After Azul had started mastering his magic, he reckoned that it hadn't been used to its full potential. If the person on the other side of the deal failed to meet the requirement, Azul could take even more from them without suffering any loss. 

And so he sugarcoated and exaggerated his words, put up the most professional smile he could manage. For a few weeks all was well. He'd gained himself a melodious voice, splendid flexibility and a ton of unique magics, but nothing great ever lasted. He was soon exposed as a scammer and his notoriety was whispered among the streets, passed on and on until every family warned their kids not to ever run into him. And Azul, with his fame and prosperity wilting under the gossip and points of fingers, was forced into giving up his success.

He had been in hiding ever since.

He could never understand how something as atrocious could happen to him. If it hadn't been for the sneers and isolation in the entirety of his childhood, he wouldn't have grown up hating everything and everyone around him that called him ugly, unwanted, repulsive. It should've justified his desire for revenge.

Instead, God decided that his suffering was not anywhere close to enough and kicked him down the cliff where he was crying for help.

That being said, Azul was grateful to have Jade and Leech sticking around after everything. The two of them were also unpopular among others, so they eventually got close as a tight-knitted trio.

"No you didn't," Jade said firmly. 

"I did, Jade. I did," Azul sighed, "They were dying, Jade, I couldn't just let them die,"

"Well, you should've."

"Don't be so uptight. Azul was doing the right thing, wasn't he?" Floyd winked. "So. Were they good-looking?"

"What?"

"The human. You must've saved them for a reason,"

Azul hated how Floyd's words implied that he would never do good unless there was something in it for him, but one could never lie in the face of truth. 

"I just didn't want to let them die. It was their birthday,"

"What does that have to do with everything?" Jade asked. "You went above the water. You saved a human. You were almost caught. You could've died up there, you know. How did you even manage to breathe?"

"I just… did." Azul said, twirling his tentacles in nervousness. Jade was entirely disapproving of his actions, while Floyd on the contrary seemed to be mildly intrigued. 

Everything still felt like a fever dream. All the fireworks and cheering and explosion were still vividly scorched into his mind as if they'd been put on repeat. The splendid colors, light giggles and- 

And those beautiful eyes of yours. The way your hair flowed in the night sky with ease, how you laughed like tomorrow was promised and your life had been planned out before you, a clear and untainted path to success. Azul couldn't decide on whether he was jealous or amazed.

"Well, you better hope they didn't really see you, or that they forgot about it. If the humans come down here to hunt us down-" Jade couldn't even bear to finish the imagination. He simply shook his head in dismay.

"I swear I saw someone! I couldn't have just been washed ashore!"

"Apparently, you were," Jack said, stroding with large steps that had you panting to keep up. "Near-death experiences do things to our mind, your majesty,"

"That may be the case for others, but I'm sure I was conscious," you retorted. "I woke up to a pair of pale, azure eyes, then in a blink they were behind the rock. If it hadn't been for you-"

"I apologize for worrying about you, your majesty."

You bit your tongue. Fighting with Jack always ended with him being passive-aggressive and you stepping back reluctantly. Plus he was as stern as a rock. Almost nothing could move his belief.

Shouting and grunting could be heard from inside the medical room where Ace, Deuce and Grim were being tended to.

Jack flung open the door, and the three stumbled to get into the blankets and put on a excruciated expression.

"I see you're all healed up," Jack said. Ace hummed lowly and slapped his forehead with the back of his hand. 

"I'm at death's door, commander. It pains me to say this, but I might need to take more days off,"

Jack was quiet for a while, and you could almost see a drop of sweat sliding down Ace's forehead.

"And you, Deuce?" Jack challenged.

"I'm traumatized," 

"And Grim?"

You arched your brow, at which he shivered in fear. "I- I'm feeling fine already,"

"So it's just Ace and Deuce, right?" Jack said. Ace and Deuce nodded their heads so hard they could fall off.

"Alright. Your health is of utmost importance to us, so I'll contact the Raven Healer…"

"The what?!" Deuce's voice croaked.

"The Raven Healer. Surely you've heard of him. He's best known for being able to treat any diseases, both mentally and physically,"

You were sure there were sweats rolling down Ace's cheeks now. "But- but doesn't he heal by using bizzare mediciness…?"

"Oh yes. His magic is what makes him such an infallible doctor. You two seem to be in a lot of pain. I'm sure he'll free you of your suffering."

You turned sharply towards the door and stifled a laughter. 

"That's… not very necessary…" Deuce's voice faltered word by word. He was fully aware that he'd already lost. "You know what, commander? I think I can dive back into work right this instant!"

Jack smirked smugly. "Splendid. And you, Ace?"

The two of them stared at each other so intensely there seemed to be sparkles between them. Finally, Ace gave in. "I'll start work tomorrow,"

They didn't even wait for Jack to walk completely out of the door to whine. They looked fully healthy, even more energized than you.

"Anyways, did you find your saviour?"

You sighed. Ace and Deuce were still skeptical about your 'story', which you'd corrected to 'experience', but at least they were open-minded. 

"No clues. I've had guards patrolling about every two hours. Nothing has yet to happen,"

They eyed each other uneasily, then back at you with a worried face. Before they could make assumptions, you defended yourself. "No, I'm not sick. My head's not concussed,"

"Well," Grim scurried to your lap. "Perhaps your saviour doesn't wish to be found?"

That'd be unwanted. You would wish for anything but to create troubles for your lifesaver. Nonetheless, you knew you wouldn't be able to sleep without sending your gratitude. 

Alright, there might be a selfish motif. You were admittedly curious about those light, pensive eyes and silvery, gleaming hair under sunlight. All these unknown were like a gravity pool, pulling you deeper and deeper into the mystery.

"Well, you ought not to lose hope," Ace patted your shoulder casually, like you weren't the princette of the kingdom he was serving for. "Maybe you'll actually run into him. Fate has a weird habit for setting unexpected traps."

It wasn't so much love as a tender curiosity, but the line segregating them was so flimsy that one's got to mix them up at some point.

Azul found himself in such a dilemma. He couldn't decide whether it was attraction or nosiness that he was feeling. Either way, it's got him hooked like a drug. Something beautiful had finally entered his life like light piercing through a thick fog of ink, and it was possessive. Azul had a feeling that it wouldn't go away until it had drained him of his mind.

The door to his room was thrown open and Azul had to hide the peeled petals and green stem in a jumble. He had been chanting 'they love me, they love me not' for the past hour. To his luck, Jade and Leech didn't seem to have noticed his haste expression. They were both panting when they swam inside.

"What's wrong?" Azul's first instinct was that something had gone south.

"There-" Floyd wheezed. "There's a sta-"

"There's a fallen statue in the Coral Maze," Jade finished the sentence. "People are fussing over it,"

"Okay," Azul eased back into his bed. He'd already lost interest at 'Coral Maze'. It was at the centre of where the majority of sea creatures inhabited. Nothing could make him go anywhere near civilization and its hubristic aesthetic again.

Or so he thought.

"No- you don't get it. It's a statue of a human that sank along with wreckages of a big ship, and it's made of gold,"

A statue made of gold.

He recalled it now. It was supposed to be your birthday present. The consternation of what followed the present revelation had been so intense that it'd washed the memory of the statue out.

"We just thought that it could be the statue you mentioned in your story, you know? It looked really grand…" Floyd sighed.

Azul wanted to get up and swim over right there, right then, but he knew he couldn't. What would others say to him the moment they saw the shadows of their tentacles crawling on their pure and oh-so royal ground? What accusations would they throw his way? How many children will be led away from him like he was some man-eating, brutal abomination?

Not to mention the unforgiving rage he'd evoked in trying to scam them in the past. Dishonesty was highly criticised in their high-class society. It was as if they were saints that had never done one thing wrong. Bet they'd never even stayed up past midnight.

"You ought to come take a look!" Floyd suggested. A casual, friendly proposal.

"No," Azul snapped. "No, no. I'm not going there,"

"They're planning to use the gold," Jade said. "You know how they are. They see one thing from the ground and start screeching in pain,"

They were going to use your statue. The statue that was perhaps the only thing that was related to you, the one way to never have to forget about you again in case that you never met again.

And to imagine the effect it'd add to his collections! A big gold statue in the centre of his grotto, accentuated by the sparkling of other jewelries. It'd be complete.

"I'll sit on it," Azul decided. He was not to act rashly, lest he walked one step wrong and brought upon himself misery and misfortune. If he really was to pay a visit, he would act in secret. Perhaps in the veil of the night. 

"Just don't act alone, okay?" Jade said. Azul nodded despite not paying any mind to him.

In the dead of the night Azul decided to sneak out. Alone. It was a mistake, really. Azul couldn't stop thinking about your statue, and by the time he realized how absurd it was, he'd already gone to the Coral Maze.

There was nary a shadow except his own. Still, it was much lighter than where he lived even at night. The distorted image of the moon waved from above as Azul made his way through the many identical corals. Then he finally found your majestic statue standing solemnly in the centre. The only beauty in the water.

It was a sight for sore eyes. White, pure light reflected off the gold and created streams of gleams onto the ground. That someone would ever find it to be disgraceful was incomprehensible to Azul. Something like this deserved to be put on display in the museum for all to see.

There was no radiance on your face and no splendid colors in your eyes. It was merely a fraction of what you were. Nonetheless, it was enough for Azul.

"Who's roaming there?" an alerted voice asked. When Azul turned, he saw a silhouette looming from outside the Coral Maze, holding two anglerfishes in hands and waving them in the water.

Panic was the only thing Azul felt as he hid behind the statue, struggling to keep his tentacles out of sight. The light stayed right in front of him for a while before skimming away.

Azul grabbed the statue and swam, pushing his tentacles through the water as hard as he could. 

"Wait there- oh goodness!" 

There were several voices now, mumbling and inquiring. Then light was casted upon his flitting figure and there were bemused gasps before someone yelled, "Seize him!"

Azul was out of breath. He wished he excelled in fitness but instead he was stuck with incongruous tentacles that would never cooperate at the most needed times.

A hand grasped the end of his tentacle but slipped off. He kept the statue tight in his arms, as if his life depended on it. He could tell that they were near now, and was trying very hard not to imagine the gruesome outcomes.

Someone grabbed his tentacles. He faltered and was pulled back despite protests.

"Keep him in place!" another person yelled as the crowd moved to keep Azul fenced in.

Azul couldn't see anything. Everything was a poor mixture of shadow and distaste and sneers. He was probably going to die right there.

"I can't believe you have the guts to come back, Ashengrotto. After all the things you've done!" someone spoke up.

"Yeah! How shameless of you!”

"And he's stealing our properties now! Imagine how desperate he is,"

"You guys don't even want it!" Azul said.

Some guy lurched forward. Azul cowered backwards.

"It's disgusting, yes, but it's still gold." he said as if it was a completely just thing to do. "It landed on our ground, so it belongs to us. On the contrary, you don't have the rights to lay your filthy hands on it. What more do you want to steal from us?"

"I'm taking this because none of you understand the beauty of it!"

This evoked a negative reaction from the crowd, but words could never be taken back. Azul could feel his heart pounding like a prisoner hellbent on escaping. He had to escape. No more of this degrading gazes. No more of the points of fingers.

"Beauty?" the guy scoffed, and for a moment his face scrunched up and he was ready to spit out rage, but then it softened into a smug smirk. "I guess only ugly understands ugly, huh?"

Azul's head throbbed.

"It doesn't justify your actions, ink-blasting thief. Hand that piece of trash over right- uff!"

He was flung deep into the water until he disappeared into nothing but a black dot. People around Azul immediately made way as they fled in screams and wails. His tentacle was still tingling with the impact, but he couldn't quite feel it. Even if he did, he couldn't care less as he skyrocketed to the surface of the water. He blinked and blinked, but his eyes were still blurred by what would be mixed into the seawater eventually. 

He'd had enough. Heard enough, seen enough. If he'd spent one more second down there he would have suffocated to death.

The familiar freshness of air welcomed him the moment he broke through the water's persistence. The land wasn't far ahead. He swam towards it as if it was his sanctuary. 

There was a man sitting on the rock, face hidden under the hood. Azul considered retreating. He had no idea what would happen to him if he was spotted, but nothing better would happen if he were to go back. So he continued swimming and crawled onto the cool soft sand, only letting his head be seen by the man as he hid behind yet another rock where he placed the much valued statue.

He seemed to be asleep, chest heaving up and down at a steady pace. Just as Azul started sliding out, the man raised his head and looked straight at Azul.

They were a pair of humming, white circles, seemingly void of any sentiments. The man had a mask on that shielded his face except for his tightly shut lips. Two crows were staring right at him with the same uncanny manner.

"You've finally arrived," the man said.

Probably the humans had been searching for him. Azul decided to keep his mouth shut.

"I've been hearing your calls…" he tilted his head. "You can come out. I know what you are,"

Azul still hesitated. But he was much closer to the ocean than to the guy, so he slowly let his tentacles into light.

The man remained calm, not a bit taken back by the revelation.

"Well, I've been hearing your calls…" he resumed.

"I never called out to any humans,"

"Not literally. But you have been calling out a lot," he smiled amiably. "You have to know that it's especially hard for me to hear from creatures undersea, so if your wishes managed to reach me, it means you're pretty desperate,"

"I think you have the wrong person," Azul said and started retreating.

The guy sprang up and his crows curled up together beside him. "Wait- I should introduce myself first. I'm the Raven Healer,"

Azul pondered for a while. "That doesn't explain anything except for the crows,"

"You lots haven't heard of me?" he frowned so deep that his brows and eyes were a cluster. "You guys are really secluded,"

That was when Azul finally realized that he knew about them. About all the lives and creatures that inhabited the deep sea.

"And I mean no harm to your realm. My only target is you," he smiled again, this time at an ominous angle.

"Well, I'm quite famous in this realm. I heal people for a living, whether it be physical or emotional needs. Anything you need, I can grant you,"

That's not very different from Azul's magic. 

"Sometimes, when someone is really desperate for a change, their thoughts can be heard by my crows. And you, Azul Ashengrotto…" his smile dropped a bit and his eyes drooped. "is particularly distressed,"

"Alright. It was nice meeting you," Azul nodded respectfully. The man didn't seem to be harmful. If he fled right now, he could probably throw him off.

The Raven Healer stilled, then burst into piles of blatant laughter. "No, no. I've been looking for you, don't you get it? I'm here to grant your wish!"

I'm here to grant your wish. Like how Azul'd promoted his business as the Sea Merchant.

"I understand that you've been suffering quite a lot, and that you want a change. But nothing ever comes without a cost… I'm sure you can understand,"

The healer stood up, the material of his greatcoat fluttering in the wind. He made his way freely to Azul, who could only freeze up as he inspected the statue with great interest.

"The heir to the throne! I see why you're desperate now. They're a real catch," the healer then looked down at the outstretched tentacles without a word. Azul prayed in his mind that he would turn away from them.

"Well, here are my terms. I will grant you a pair of legs in exchange for your magic,"

Wait, what?

Azul was pretty sure the Raven Healer was just imitating him now. A great figure appearing out of the blue to answer your hopes. The catch was that the figure would always take away your most important thing. It was never a fair deal, Azul was aware.

"I don't think you need my magic," Azul breathed.

"Why, I do!" he exclaimed. "Collecting magic is a splendid hobby of mine! It is because of all these magic that I am such a renowned magician,"

He was obviously lying. His smile couldn't reach his eyes, and the orbs where his eyes were supposed to be were humming like a hazard label.

"I think I'll be just fine," Azul hurriedly brought the statue to his chest and started sliding away.

"...How are you going to survive?"

"What?" Azul swiveled, exhausted.

"Up here. With your…" the healer wiggled his fingers.

"I'll find a way,"

"No you won't," the healer protested. Azul looked up to the sky, took a deep breath and decided to entertain him. 

"Why so?"

"You're gonna cause ruckus. Chaos. People are not especially used to seeing half-man half-octopuses roaming their land," he said honestly. 

Despite knowing all this, Azul still considered his word rude. There was a thin line between blunt and disrespectful, and he'd just crossed it. 

"There won't be anyone dealing with you, will there?"

"...I suppose not-"

"Exactly! I am your only hope!" he exclaimed once again, throwing his hands up in the air like a dramatist. "Unless you want to go back?"

Azul glanced at the serene water. He knew that down there, the mermaids and mermen must be panicking over what'd just happened.

"You can't hold onto that statue forever. If you really wish to stay here-"

"I just came, Mr. Healer. I'm not going to stay,"

"Yet. Come on now," he groaned, as if he was the one exasperated. "I know you want it. You need it. So what are you waiting for? You're never going to see all the beauties in this world in this state!"

He was right. Agonizingly right. He couldn't just walk around as an octopus. It would be like a stain on a quaint painting. Moreover, now that he was here, he couldn't just give up the chance to find you again. It's not like the ocean would welcome him anyways.

As if hearing his thoughts, the Raven Healer reached his hand out, "Deal? Your magic for a pair of legs. It's a fantastic trade if you think about it,"

One second. Two second. Azul didn't wait until the third to act on it. The moment their skin touched, Azul felt a stream of warmth coursing through him, rushing to his throat, where he choked up a luminous blue orb. It was within the healer's fingers within seconds.

"And your legs," he rummaged inside his pocket. There seemed to be numerous tiny objects inside as he dug around. Finally, he pulled up a thumb-size bottle and handed it to Azul.

He downed the slimy liquid inside under the healer's encouraging nods, and almost gagged at the sensation. "Guh! What the hell is-"

His tentacles started glowing a bright yellow, bright enough to attract people in this dead of the night. They started to shrink until they completely disappeared, and a pair of human legs replaced them.

He couldn't believe his eyes as he stretched around and surveyed the changes on his body. It took him quite some time to adjust to it, but he was surprisingly good at it. The fabric of the pants that came with the gift fluttered against his 'flesh' like a mother's caress. He felt normal, for once. Not some ugly monster that preyed on innocent kids. Not a marginalized criminal. Not even a wicked fraud. He was just a human wanting to explore the world.

"Three days," the Raven Healer said.

"What?" Azul was too joyous to pay real mind.

"If you can't find the most beautiful thing after three days, you will dissolve into sea bubbles,"

Azul stilled as he comprehended his words, then he started to chant no in his mind. He'd fallen for his trap.

"You didn't mention it at all!" Azul yelled. "Refund! You're scamming me!"

"The pot's calling the kettle black now. How comical," the healer giggled. Azul's heart dropped to the bottom.

"Consider this your own medicine. It's not like you're completely at loss over here!"

"Wait!" Azul reached out to grasp his fainting figure, which had become an opaque vision. 

"We shall reunite in three days. Until then, enjoy."

All that was left was the crashing of the waves and songs of the crickets. Bathed in the glow of the moon, Azul finally came to the conclusion that he'd fucked up.

Life never stopped to give him a break. There were haste footsteps nearing from behind. Azul instinctively retracted his tentacles, but forgot about their absence and tripped instead.

"Yikes! That was a nasty fall. Are you okay?" 

Looking up, two formally looking men were standing above him, one with crimson hair and another navy. There was a sword attached to each of their sides.

"Yeah. I-I'm fine," Azul cleared his throat and stood up.

"Are you homeless?" The redhead asked and was immediately hit by his companion.

"You can't go around asking people whether they are homeless!" he scolded, then turned to Azul brightly. "You must be in search of shelter! Please follow us!"

"That isn't any better," 

"Shut up," the blue-haired snapped with the same polite smile. "Come on, Mr…?"

"A-Azul. Azul Ashengrotto,"

"Yes, Mr. Ashengrotto. We can't have you catching a cold out here,"

Despite his friendly facade, Azul could see underlying motives lurking beneath. But clueless that he was, he didn't have a choice but to follow suit towards the castle-like building in the far distance.

"Your majesty will be pleased to see you," the redhead murmured, but Azul couldn't quite catch that.

"What was that?" he asked.

"It's nothing," was all that he received. "Just that you'll surely love the place."

Conclusion : Azul had once gone around scamming others with his unique magic but was busted and had been further criticised since. The Raven Healer is obviously Crowley, and his magic will be further explained in next chapter.

[koko-bopp]

Ex — oh sehun

oh sehun x gender neutral!reader ft. Baekhyun

word count – 1.5K

genre – college!au | angst | cheating | happy ending

warnings – cheating, breakups etc

synopsis – you've become the project partner of your ex's new boyfriend. A relationship the both of you left on clifhanger.

"Jagi?" Sehun called out, entering the dorm room as he began taking his shoes off along with the denim jacket he had on all day. "Babe?" He asked again, furrowing his brows when he didn't get a response, he heard giggling coming from his boyfriend's room, he knew there was nothing to worry about, Beakhyun just probably didn't hear him. He opened the door, finding Beakhyun behind his study desk and... [Y/N] sitting on his boyfriend's bed behind a pile of economics papers.

"Sehunnie," Baekhyun chuckled nervously, but a bright smile on his face, "When did you arrive?"

Sehun kept his brows furrowed, but also kept his eyes locked with yours, practically death glares sent your way, though you sent him a smile, one that annoyed him. "Just now," Sehun confirmed, now looking at Baekhyun, a proper smile on his face, "I'll be... Anywhere but here."

Sehun exited the room, and Baekhyun looked at you, knowing why he was being so passive-aggressive, "Sorry, I didn't think—"

You waved your hands in front of your now economics partner, brushing off his apology, "Trust me, don't worry about it, it's in the past."

"I mean, yeah." Baekhyun was still a bit in the dark with your relationship with Sehun, he knows you two were dating at a point of time, not too long before him and Sehun began going out, though he never knew why his boyfriend was so hostile to you. He just assumed it wasn't his place to ask, they've only been dating for a month and thought that Sehun will eventually tell him; but it wasn't exactly the case, and Baekhyun didn't want to make it seem like he's prying. He wasn't going to lie though, part of him was envious of the fact that you know so much and refused to let out anything about your year-long relationship with Sehun.

"Why are you still here?" Sehun had left his boyfriend's dorm room as soon as he entered, going back to his own and hoping to find you no longer at Baekhyun's when he returns. Much to his dismay, his hopes weren't accepted.

You put the glass of water in your hand down onto the kitchen island, turning to Sehun at the front door. "Baek is asleep, thought it would be a good idea to wait for you to drop by then leave," you said, "He shut down halfway through our last couple of questions, I thought he might be sick or whatever. Better safe than sorry kinda thing."

Sehun nodded. Closing the door carefully. The time was close to eleven, the campus lights outside coming through from the windows, plus the small night light next to the television was on, it made the atmosphere less dense and even made Sehun a little tired after studying for a few hours.

"I hope you know I'm not stalking you," you suddenly said, "It was pure coincidence that Baekhyun was signed as my partner for the final..."

Sehun chuckled, leaning against the wall that was on the right of the kitchen island, his arms crossed as he took a moment to gaze at your facial features. "I didn't think you were, but then again, major coincidence."

You smiled at that, and went to put the glass into the sink then looking over at Sehun, "Treat Baekhyun well, yeah? He's a sweet guy."

Sehun scoffed, "Don't worry, I'm not breaking up with him eight months prior to fly off to the United States," he said, keeping his stance against the wall, "Only to end up not going."

Ouch. You felt that stab in your chest and tiny goosebumps along your arms at the final comment. You sighed, placing both hands on the edge of the counter to hold onto it, looking down at the marble. "Not my finest moment," you said, a guilty aired-chuckle leaving your lips, "I do regret it. Honestly."

Sehun swallowed hard, "Then why did you do it?"

"I didn't want any form of attachments when I left..." You didn't want to admit it, but it felt good to say it out loud to the person who needed to hear it, "You know; new city, new life complex... I didn't want to have to go through that heartbreak of potentially not seeing you again..."

Sehun stayed quiet like he was thinking of his next words. He was thankful for the closure, it was something he craved for when you broke up with him, but he didn't know what to take it as now.

You spoke up despite all the silence, "I really did love you. I still do, I don't think I ever stopped. But... I'm a whole month too late, you're with Baekhyun now."

Sehun lifted himself off the wall, walking up to you with so much caution you can see the reluctance on his face. It promoted you to stand up straight, hands off the bench and instead by your side as Sehun bought himself closer to you, close enough that you're able to see every speck of light brown in his dark eyes. He lifted his hand so it gently cupped your cheek, not yet saying a word, but every thought running through his head was very much visible on his face. "I shouldn't be doing this."

"Nobody is telling you to," you chuckled lightly, placing your hand over the one caressing your cheek. "But then again, nobody is stopping you either..."

Sehun took another moment to memorise the curve of your lips, the line from your jaw that meets your chin and the small space between your parted lips. Sehun leaned forward, his head tilted to the side ever so slightly, his mouth mere millimetres away from yours.

It started off slow like you were both getting familiarising with the feeling that was once so familiar. He fucking missed this, the taste of your lips on his, the affection radiating from each other; it made him want more, craving your intimacy so much more than he realised.

Sehun's hand moved down to the back of your neck to bring the two of you as close as possible, pushing you against the edge of the kitchen island. Your hand moved behind you and onto the marble out of reflex, keeping yourself steady while Sehun locked his hand on the corner for the same reason.

"Please," Sehun said, not stopping his heated movements, "Please don't leave me again."

You nodded immediately, only for Sehun to lift you up onto the bench, standing close between your legs while his hands gripped your hips as if he thought you'd run away if he ever let go. You knew that was the case, so you wrapped your arm around his neck and bought him close, telling him you weren't going anywhere; just without the words. Both your kisses becoming slower and softer as the two of you began running out of breath.

Sehun pulled away gently, his hands still firm on your hips, but you were now graciously trailing your thumb up and down his cheekbone, bring it slowly down to his pump lips, dragging it across the lips that you craved for months. Sehun smiled at you, sad eyes locked with yours, "I missed you so much."

You looked at him with guilt though, remembering that no matter what changes between you and Sehun now, he's still in a relationship with someone else, "Sehun, but what about Baek...?"

Sehun's eyes went wide, immediately closing it tightly as soon as he remembered that was the case. "I- Don't worry, I swear, I'll figure something out," he promised, bringing his head up to peck your lips quickly. "You're all I want."

Reluctantly, you nodded. A pin of guilt evident on your face, but seeing Sehun smile at you like a child at a candy store made it disappear quickly. "I have to go, though," You said, chuckling lightly, "It's way past midnight and my friend is probably waiting for me."

"Come to my dorm, my roommate is with their girlfriend," Sehun said, placing another peck on your lips.

You thought the guilt might hit you hard later, you looked over at Baekhyun's room, thinking about how he was going to react to the news. "Okay," you looked back at Sehun, smiled obvious on your expression, "Let's go."

God, you missed him so much.

[thegreymoon]

Sorry, You didn't really say or do anything to make me think that you are Asian. I thought that I read sth in your lj where u said that you were and just run with it. It was a long time ago and I must have misread. Also, you don't really post a lot political stuff, it is more like I notice it more because when I visit your page I skip all Merlin related stuff and am interested in the rest so again my fault. As for my ise of imaginary- yeah, it was passive agressive, altough not intentionally so

… my bad. I rarely engage in political conversations online because it never ends well, especially when my views clash with 90% of tumblr users so I am used to combative tone and it was unnecessary.. As for SJW I am not sure if that is dissmissive term as it discribes the “movement” well? I am not native speaker and am aware that it can be used as derogative term, but was also convinced that it is used by people on the left if political spectrum. I asked you why you are mainy interesetd in USA because I was working under the assumption that u are Asian it seemed to me weird that a person coming from China/Japan etc would be championing social justice in USA when it not that big of a problem(or at all IMO) whie ignoring very real problems in their own country. But since you are not Asian and you post political stuff rarely you are right it is a silly discussion. The fault is completely on my side. I am allergic to these kind of stuff and you are one of my favourite writers so I exaggerated. Once again sorry.

As for the rest of your response: I also come from relatively poor country that was screwed over by both Britain and USA and many other countries, and I don’t agree with many of their policies (or most) but I don’t hate them and believe that as much as people like to say they start wars for the oil etc it is not really true. There are many political and global players and everyone single country is motivated by greed it is only that not every country can exercise their power.  

Relatively they are not the worst, it is just that since USA tries to paint themselves as heroes they are held to different, much higher standards than other countries. To sum it up, I am not defending their foreign policies, they have done a lot of wrong and are shortseighted but I still think that are better than other superpowers that will soon take over like China or maybe India. Also, I don;t understand why would you include global warming in your answer?why do you believe it is their fault

I am trying to leave as “green” as I can, I am a vegetarian and I believe we should do everything to preserve environment, but I wouldnt want my country to sign any deals concerning CO2 emission as long as other countries do not do the same. Otherwise, they would just cripple their economy and not help the world? As for Trump(if you are still interested) I find him the epitome of self-important, conceited stereotypical american but still so much better than alternative and despite distaste. would still vote for him. Because he at least apppears to be anti globalist and has a much higher moral ground than Hillary. what are his SPECIFIC actions that you find so abhorrent? Anyway, what I alluded to in my message was not politics of USA but the social justcie issues, like support BLM or me to movement(I am not sure if you posted enything regarding that, so srry if I presume wrongly) which I find are absolutely not based on facts and despite that people still perpetuate that, and if u don’t agree you are racist and sexist. No arguments whatsoever. It is also silly to me when I see the posts about the West being this cesspool of sexism while honour killings or FGM is nearly a non issue on social media or racism when considering the West is still the least racist place in the world when you compare it to China/India/SA or any other place. So, I find the social media effort to be misdirected and controlled by emotions. Even the indigineous people issued you mentioned. Americans get so much shit for their history, while pretty much every single country that exist was created by conquering or displacement of the previous population(u just have to go far enough down the history). So, yeah wht happend to Indigenous people and dissappearance of their whole civilization is a great tragedy but not the first and unfortunately not the last in human history. Why are we hearing about it but not about Anuit people or Persian or Byzantians? it is so imbalanced. Ok, anyway, sorry for the rant it shouldn’t be directed at you and tumblr is definitely not the place for it. Sorry if I offended to you. As I said I love your writing, “DC” is my all time favourite fic, and because I creepely once read through all of your lj(including asks and responses) I(like an internet creep and stalker)liked you and thought you seemed smart, well balanced and knowledgeable so I guess I felt entitled to to make the ask. Wish you all the best in life. 

No worries, I’m sorry I came off so aggressive in my answer. I did actually live and work in China for a while during my LJ days and it’s entirely possible I may have tagged myself as being there on my fandom profiles at the time. It was a happy period for me and I talked about it a lot to anyone who had the patience to listen, so it’s very plausible that you have read something about it on my LJ! I’m very sorry if it was misleading, but I was only ever an expat there!

I used to be a lot more open about my real name and real-life dealings in fandom communities, but that almost backfired spectacularly, so I locked down a lot of stuff because it could do me quite a bit of damage. 

OK, I concede your point that if you remove the Merlin stuff, a lot of what is left on my Tumblr is going to be either me reblogging cats or raging about social injustices (oops) 😅

I’d just like to make it clear that I absolutely do not hate either the USA, the UK or any other country in the world. Like I said, people are people, and disgusting policies are disgusting policies and every single country is guilty of them. It’s just that some have a bigger impact and are more visible. My own country is a source of so much shame and anger for me, it far outweighs anything the UK and the USA could have ever done because it’s personal, but our nonsense is just not something that I come across when casually scrolling through Tumblr, so I don’t reblog it. It’s possible to love a nation and its people and still be critical of the evil they have done. 

Also, let me just clarify that I’m bothered by all injustices and human rights violations everywhere, but usually there isn’t a post about them when I’m scrolling at 2 am at night that I can reblog. The USA is just… low hanging fruit, and let’s face it, from where I stand, hating on their president, the white supremacists, the Nazis, fundamental Christians, racists and the Republicans in general after what they have turned into is not hating on the USA, but rather cheering on the sane part of the country to get rid of this toxic waste ASAP. The same goes for Brexiteers in the UK and I am so, so sad for all the people that are going to suffer because of it. 

Of course, I’m aware that China and Japan have issues and human rights violations that are mind-boggling, but again, they just don’t appear on my dash very often, or at least not in English or from a source I can easily fact-check. The Japanese and Chinese stuff I follow is mostly art, nature and pictures of pretty clothes. My knowledge of either of these countries is very superficial compared to Western countries, which impact me directly, so it really isn’t my place to appoint myself as a champion of human rights in the Far East when my own country and continent are a growing dumpster fire that cannot be contained.  

On the subject of global warming, I’m not blaming the USA (entirely, because they, of course, played their part, but so did the rest of humanity). I’m enraged by their governing body’s rhetoric as of late, the denial of climate change, every single action that Trump took since taking office (such as withdrawing from the Paris climate agreement), him making ignorant, snide remarks in the middle of the polar vortex just days ago while people were suffering, deliberately sabotaging scientists and spreading dangerous, false information when each and every single country should be all-hands-on-deck if we want to avert a disaster of global proportions (especially with all the signs pointing to us being too late already). Nobody is suggesting that the USA should unilaterally reduce carbon emissions, all countries in the world must do it and develop the technology to make it feasible to convert to clean energy. And yes, the USA, China and other giants have to lead the way because they are the ones with the power! My poor, tiny country is not the one that can impact anything, so yes, the USA is absolutely more responsible to lead the way forward, but instead of at least moving in the right direction, Trump is deliberately lying and sabotaging all effort because he likes the money he gets from Big Oil companies, and he’s giving a platform to religious nutcases for votes, who think that there won’t be a global disaster of epic proportions in the near future because God promised Noah he would never again flood the entire Earth in the Old Testament. It’s not even the outright evil that is bothering me the most right now, but the mind-numbing stupidity. 

I have nothing but loathing for both of the Clintons. They have caused so much destruction in my country and I do not want good things for either of them, ever. I will never pretend that Hillary Clinton is anything even resembling a good person because you do not reach that level of power by having a conscience, but at the very least, she is not a rapist and paedophile that the general public knows of (which is more than we can say for her husband, btw). Trump has no moral high ground whatsoever, IMO. He has done everything imaginable, from scamming charities (this was proven in court) to raping minors (see Epstein). He has no redeemable human characteristics and is not even intelligent enough to pretend that he does, which is at least one thing that Hillary has going for her. I’m not going to sit here and list all the reasons why Trump is abhorrent because a) it cannot fit in a Tumblr post b) I would be sitting here for years. 

I will also not engage in discussion about whether or not BLM is a valid movement, ever. I don’t understand what you mean when you say it isn’t based on ‘facts’. Which, facts are in doubt, exactly? It’s based on multigenerational, still ongoing trauma and persecution of an entire race of people! I’m neither black nor an American, but I believe African-American people when they talk about the terror they experience on a daily basis in their own country. I have eyes and I have ears, I know plenty of white people and have insight into how they think because I too am white and have been raised with similar bullshit. I have lived in Africa for years and seen things with my own eyes. I will never not take the side of black people when they protest racism anywhere and I will never not believe them when they talk about police brutality, race-based violence and systemic racism in countries built on slavery. 

Of course, I’m not saying racism doesn’t exist in other places and in other forms, but talking about one does not negate the other. 

Also, I don’t understand the point you’re trying to make about the West not being sexist because other places have it worse? I’m sure I misunderstood this, so forgive me if that is the case. FGM is terrible, yes, but that in no way invalidates other types of gender violence that still ruins the lives of countless women. Just because the women in, say, Saudi Arabia have it worse, that doesn’t mean that the women here or in the USA should not talk about issues that directly affect them (and, btw, I have absolutely been outraged about Saudi Arabia and FGM and shared posts about both). All are bad! This is not a competition. 

On the topic of you saying that America gets so much shit for its history, which you think is unjust, I have to mention that European settlers killed up to 95% of Native Americans in some areas in relatively recent history. Just days ago, I was reading an article about how they killed so many people, it actually changed the global climate! This is genocide on such a massive scale, my brain can’t even comprehend it, and yet here we are today, with Columbus Day and Thanksgiving as holidays while the surviving Native Americans suffer all kinds of indignity and discrimination, so no, I don’t think we are talking about it enough and I feel that America deserves all the shit it gets for its history. IMO, it is not getting enough shit! The fact that there are other issues out there that need to be talked about too and are being silenced does not in any way take away from any of this. 

Anyway, let’s not argue about which country is The Worst™ and which human rights issues are more worthwhile than others because that is pointless. We already agree that all governments are corrupt, that evil happened and is still happening all over the world and that all human rights issues are important. I firmly believe that if they were to be evaluated by a psychiatrist, 99% of all high-ranking politicians would be diagnosed with serious clusters of antisocial personality disorders. Most of them would do anything and the only thing stopping them is whether or not they can get away with it. The remaining 1% cannot really do much and keep both their conscience and political power intact. 

In any case, the last thing I want in life is to get into Tumblr discourse with LJ people, so how about we just put this behind us? Let’s agree to disagree on who is worse, Trump or Hillary, because that is a pointless disagreement, especially since neither of us is an American and this is getting out of hand. I feel like we are actually miscommunicating and talking about different things. We seem to be arguing different points, so all of it is coming off worse for both of us than it really should be. Also, I wish you hadn’t sent me this ask anonymously, because I now have no way of responding to you except publically, and Tumblr is seriously not a good place for this. 

On a happier note, I’m very glad that you enjoyed DC! I’m very sorry for the extremely long hiatus! Unfortunately, I’ve been going through things that stopped me from writing for a long time. I hope that one day I can still come back and finish that story, in spite of everything! Have a good day/night! :)

*hugs*

[estrxlar]

The Ghost Of You

20 - You’re Finally Mine

This chapters songs:

I Follow You; Melody's Echo Chamber

Hot Rod; Dayglow

My Jinji; Sunset Rollarcoaster

- Y. L. Perspective

I let out a low groan, attempting to stretch out my arms and legs. But when I touched Koshi's, I remember that we were latched onto each other. Throughout the night, I hadn't imagined that sleeping with him would be so peaceful. His gentle hands holding me against him, the way a simple hum would run vibrations throughout his chest, and best of all: being able to look at such a lovely face to wake up to.

He pays my back gently, followed by his gentle voice. "Y/n? Are you awake?"

I open my eyes slightly to peek at him. A very bright sun ray showered his grey hair and fair skin. "Hm? Yes, I am now." Shoving my face back into his chest, I sigh. "What time is it?"

"It's ten. I'm sorry for waking you, but Isao is wondering if you want breakfast," Koshi explains briefly.

I blink a few times to refresh my mind, nodding slightly. Was his brother serious about making our food? That was something I hadn't experienced in a while. I usually made things for myself or ate leftovers for breakfast.

After Koshi dismisses his little brother, he proceeded to pat my back as if I were falling back asleep. "How did you sleep? I hope I wasn't bothering you all night," he asks me.

"Pretty good. I was very comfortable." A smile appeared on my face without any effort. I trail my fingers across his collarbone under his t-shirt, thankful that my first night with Koshi was as calming as sleeping through the rain. "What about you?"

I was hoping that I hadn't kicked him or done something embarrassing while I was asleep. The risk was a high percentage, especially since I'd spent the night mostly laying on his chest.

But Koshi didn't say much. He only gave me a very warning smile and tightened his hands upon my waist, maneuvering closer towards me. Curious yet scared of what he would do, I grew frantic, feeling my face heat up while he did so. And finally, he closed his eyes, brushing his lips against mine, before kissing me gently.

My hands rushed up to his face as my shoulders stiffened. Such a sudden action made my heart beat out of its chest, I was sure he could hear it.

Unfortunately, he ended our kiss after a few seconds, pulling away from me slightly.

"So, I'm guessing that's a yes?" I manage to let out a few words in my tired voice. Koshi nods, sitting up from his spot.

That was the first time I'd woken up in his bed while lying next to him. And boy, did I cherish that moment as if it were impossible to forget.

-

"Good morning, Ms. L/n," Isao chimes as Koshi and I walk into the kitchen with our zombie-like behaviors.

Nonetheless, I smile at the boy, happy to be seeing his familiar face. I was beginning to grow on him and his playful personality. I bow and greet him a good morning as well, before Koshi bumps his hip into mine, laying a hand on my back. "Y/n, you don't have to bow every time you see them." He says to me, making me shoot up to stand straight.

"Uh, sorry! I guess it's just an impulse I do to people," I explain myself, followed by Isao's sweet laughter.

"That's alright! I was just about done," he says, placing a small piece of fish onto a pile of a couple of other pieces. Next to the grill pan was some white rice and a pot of miso soup.

The smell fills my nose and I begin to build up my appetite. "Oh, okay! Would you like me to get started on some tea?" I hurry to the other side of the kitchen and attempt to search for a pot. But of course, Koshi stands there with one in his large hands, grinning at me.

"You're our guest, Ms. L/n! Please, sit." Isao carries the plate of rice and fish to the table, accompanied by a few bowls of miso soup. I hadn't been welcomed with such a normal morning breakfast in so long. Not even my friends' parents treated me like this. But mostly because we were all family to each other.

I could only hope that I didn't look too bad. I had changed into some pajama pants and a smaller shirt so I wouldn't look like a homeless man walking around such a nice house. But freshening up my hair, breath, and face could only do so much. As for Koshi, he still looked as beautiful as ever in the mornings.

I make myself comfortable in the same chair I'd say in the previous night, waiting for Koshi and Isao to join me. After they did, I said my thanks, and we began to eat our breakfast.

To my surprise, Isao wasn't half bad at making food. In fact, it was very delicious. Mostly because I hadn't had such a good breakfast meal in what felt like a million years.

"So!" Isao cleared his throat with a gulp of green tea.

"How did you love birds sleep?"

The boy clapped his hands enthusiastically. The nickname made me cringe on the inside, but I simply chuckled lightly and shrugged my shoulders. "Pretty good. You guys have such a lovely home," I comment, replied with a nod from Isao.

"Yeah, yeah. So your band; are you guys popular and all? Sorry, I know that probably isn't what you might want to talk about, but I'm interested in Koshi's new girlfriend," he says, followed by one of Koshi's passive-aggressive throat clearings.

I eye both of them, smiling awkwardly while swallowing my food. "Uhm, it's okay. We're fairly known by a few people at school and some family. Our discography is small since we mostly produce covers or requests we receive from our amount of fans."

It was obvious that Isao was very excited about having a musician in his house. I was only worried that Koshi would grow tired of talking about music. So, I take the wheel of questions and begin my mission to find out more about his family.

"What about you? Are you interested in any sports or art hobbies?" I ask, wiping my hands on one of the small towelettes he gave me earlier.

Isao nods. "Kind of! I like messing around with the drums now and then. But I mostly did a lot of volleyball back in middle school."

I hadn't thought about how old Isao might have been. Curious, I ask, "wait—how old are you? I didn't know you were in high school."

Little did I know that it wasn't something Koshi and Isao weren't up to talk about that subject, for they glanced at each other with surprised looks. "Uh...I should be starting in-person high school after the summer break. Right now, I've been doing homeschooling."

"Oh..that must be nice!" I attempt to lighten the mood a bit. "Are you excited? You get to experience a lot of new and fun things in high school. I'm positive you'll find something you like. Do you plan on going to Karasuno or...?"

"Yeah, I do. I only wish Koshi could have been a second year so we could be closer together!"

The mentioned man coughs while drinking his tea, wiping it soon after. "Uhm, don't worry. I have a couple of people who'll be looking out for you." I assumed he was talking about the volleyball team. Isao would no doubt fit in with those guys.

"You said that you're going to the states after graduation. Is that true?" The sudden question makes both Koshi and me choke on our rice. The only time that I would ever discuss the matter was with my friends. I was always afraid that talking about it in front of him would cause problems between us.

Noticing I grew uncomfortable, Koshi interrupts with yet another question. "Would you like to come with me to Y/n's concert? It's not much of a concert...more of a competition for bands. But if it's okay with her, I could take you with me. I know we'd both love to see her perform live, right?"

Isao practically jumps at the statement. "Wow—really?! Of course! Can we go, Ms. L/n?" He looks at me with big puppy eyes in excitement. How could I have said no?

Proud, I nod to the boy. "Sure thing. But you've gotta be careful in the crowds. There will be lots of people there."

The rest of breakfast was used as a way for Isao and I to get to know each other. Though they came from the same mother and father, Koshi and he were two very different people. It could have been that they got different types of acknowledgment from their parents, or they coped with their mother in different ways. He sure seemed like a rowdy boy. Very charismatic, curious, and a top-notch smart ass.

Koshi and I helped tidy up the kitchen, he notified us he would be going over to a friend's house. I was only to assume that this friend was like family to him, for Koshi dismissed him as if it were nothing. After that, we decided to begin getting ready for the training camp.

-

A/n: If you come across messages from the guys that sound cringe it's only because I'm trying to make them sound realistic aka what they would actually text like😭

Crow crew

Daichi

Hope everyone is heading to the gym soon

Let's try not to give Takeda a hard time this weekend. He's been treating us very kindly these past few weeks.

Tanaka

Yeah man he got us a really cool new manager

haha thanks

Asahi

Who's ####

Tanaka

I just said

Really cool new manager

Aka Sugas gf

Koshi

Istg

Noya

R u serious my brother😕

So you just take every girl you see now

Asahi

Suga didn't tell me that:0

Koshi

The way we haven't even been together for 24 hours and you somehow managed to figure it out

Tanaka

WAIT IT IS TRUE-

Daichi

This is literally supposed to be a group

chat meant for volleyball only

Leave Koshi's personal life alone and mind your own business guys

Noya

Don't be so uptight 🗣

Y/n I thought you liked me 💔

What about all that stuff you told me under the cherry blossom tree

Daichi

Noya oh my god

Asahi

Wow, this escalated!!

Daichi

Where are you guys, heading to the school hopefully?

Koshi

Y/n and I just left the house

Is Kiyoko there yet guys

Kiyoko

Almost :))

Meet me in the girl's locker room

Noya

HOW THE FUCK DID YOU DO THAT

Tanaka

WH

What lmao

Tanaka

YOU SUMMONED HER

Noya

YEAH SHOW US YOUR WAYS DARK LORD

Bc I'm god( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Ennoshita

Hey everyone

At the gym👌🏻

Yamaguchi

Good afternoon!!🌞

THE EMOJI WXBISJS

Yamaguchi

SHSHSHS

Tsukishima

it's gay

Noya

You're gay

Tsukishima

Wtf lmao no I'm not shut up

Tanaka

You've triggered something

Daichi

Stop it guys

Hinata

OMG I WOKE UP LATE

Koshi

Uhh

Try to get to the gym fast

Asahi

Hey you shouldn't text and drive

Tanaka

Especially when you got your girl in the passenger seat🤨

Koshi

Don't worry guys it's me

[image of you and Koshi in the car]

Kageyama

who's dirivng

Yamaguchi

Driving* and Koshi is obviously driving in the picture🙄

Kageyama

Im talk shout the training camp

Daichi

Takeda, he's taking his van like always

Hinata

CAN WE BRING SNACKS PLEASE???

Daichi

Yes but not to eat in the car bc I don't wanna cause Takeda any issues with having to clean it

###-###-####

That's fine with me!! Hinata can bring snacks( ◠‿◠ )

Is that Takeda Senseis number

Tanaka

Yes

Koshi

Pls try not to make a big deal of Y/n and I

Noya

Why wouldn't we💀

it's not even that huge + I'm sure you guys don't care that much

Tsukishima

Yeah I don't

Tanaka

Cmon noya that's one of kiyokos best friends we can't be mean😥

Noya

SHEEESH alr see you guys soon

—

- K. S. Perspective

"...are you telling me that she's coming with us?" I look at Daichi with a very serious face, afraid of what he would respond with.

I thought it was flattering that Eclair wanted to spend her afternoons at volleyball practice with the team. But was it appropriate to have her come with us to the weekend training camp?

Daichi sighed. "Well, she did ask Takeda and I beforehand and we didn't have it in us to tell her no. Besides, she is a big help to us. She's been doing a lot more than talk to the second years as of recently. Don't you think you're worrying too much about it? I'm sure she won't make a move on you again, especially now that you've got a girlfriend."

"She doesn't know that, dammit." I cross my arms and sink into my seat. I knew that she wouldn't take the news lightly when she found out. If I were lucky, she would last her entire stay in Japan without knowing.

He sighs again, adjusting himself in the seat. "Koushi, just fall asleep. We'll be there in only an hour."

It didn't hurt me that Daichi didn't want to talk about Eclair. She was draining, after all. I prayed that she wouldn't be causing issues during this weekend. The last thing I needed was another inconvenience.

Instead of sitting with Kiyoko the way she usually did, she had to sit alone. Eclair insisted she take her spot next to Kiyoko, but Y/n didn't want to make a big deal of it.

As the bus began driving off into the evening, I look over to the girl, observing her tired eyes as they wander over the valleys outside. Did she mind being alone? I wasn't sure. All I knew was that I wanted more than anything to sneak over to her seat when no one was looking. To have her head rest nicely on my shoulder.

'Would anyone even notice if I were gone?' I think to myself, checking if my best friend was still awake. Sure enough, he was dozing off against the window, giving me an open spot to sneak up next to her.

Careful not to be noticed by Takeda or any other volleyball members, I crouch over to the seat in front of mine. Y/n looks over in a flash, taking both her earphones out. "Kou, what are you doing? Are you allowed to sit next to me?" She whispers to me before the two of us lock eyes.

"I have no clue, but you look tired," I say to her as she closes her eyes and smiles gently. The orange-colored sunlight showered down on her beautiful features, making my heart melt right there in the moment. Desperate to feel her, I bump her head with my shoulder, offering her a personal pillow. She happily accepts and fits right between my left collar bone, making me beam with joy. I pay close attention to her small flinch when I began to ever so gently squeeze her thigh lovingly. Dear Y/n was finally all mine and no one else's, finally. Of course, I knew she belonged to herself and had personal boundaries that I wouldn't dare cross. She was an independent and reluctant girl after all. But my girl. One I would love forever and ever.

-

Yes I still added fluff at the end what abt it😾

Ily pls note and comment I read every single comment you guys give me and it makes me seriously so happy

- estrxlar

[fanta-ceo]

SF9 Reacts to You Flirting With Another Guy

Scenario: you're at a party with your SF9, and you intentionally try to make your boyfriend jealous by flirting with a random guy. Drama ensues.

A/N: I tried to make this short. I am so sorry. So sorry. 

- Baekbek

Taeyang: He watches the exchange carefully but doesn't say anything. He's more quiet after that, and his smile seems reserved. When people try to talk to him, he doesn't really engage—just nods with a half smile. You can tell he's retreated internally. You guys don't talk on the way home, and you start to feel worried. When he drops you off, he's still not talking but he gets out to open your door like always. 

You blurt it all out, that you were being stupid and you're sorry and you were totally just doing it to tease him. "You're the only guy I like, that guy was weird, and I'm really sorry—I'm just not used to this." Taeyang leans down to look you in the eyes, but you can't read him. Still, you think there's something gentle in his eyes as he tsks softly. "Don't you know I hate the idea of you with someone else?" You start to apologize again, and he kisses you in a way that makes your knees weak. The kiss says everything he didn't—that your relationship is important, that he likes you so much, and he really hates to see you with someone else. It's intimate and passionate. It's possessive. When he breaks apart, you study each other quietly. "Okay," you say, unsteadily, and he chuckles. "Okay," he smiles, and it's an affectionate, warm smile.

Zuho: He doesn't even notice at first, which is a pain because you're only doing it for his benefit. When he sees what's going on, he laughs. Like it's funny. You start to feel a little pissed off, and when he comes to hug you later, you push him off. Flirting with another guy should make him angry, not laugh. What kind of relationship was this? Were you the only one with feelings? Zuho notices you're upset, making him cautious around you, but he doesn't confront you till you're at the car. He asks if you're okay. You yell at him for the weather passive aggressively, and he takes it silently. You keep snapping at him on the drive until you blurt out that he doesn't even care about you. He's stunned. He stops the car and gently tugs on your arm to make you look at him. He tells you of course he cares. You demand to know why he thought it was funny to see you with another guy. He looks surprised. "Weren't you just doing that to mess with me?" Well... yeah. "It didn't mean anything, right? You were just playing a joke on me. So I thought it was funny. Were you... serious?" You immediately feel bad, and stupid on top of it. You apologize for acting so petty. "I'll be sure to get angry next time." You snort, and he laughs.

Inseong: Inseong is an open book. When you turn away from the guy you're flirting with, you meet your boyfriend's eyes from across the room. His expression is wounded. He looks away quickly, and you leave the guy without explanation. He tries to pretend things are okay, but his smile doesn't reach his eyes, and his eyes look distant and clouded. He looks very, very sad. You pull him outside and tell him the truth quickly, that you just wanted to see him jealous. He's quiet while you talk. "Ah... I thought you saw him and liked him more," he admits quietly. Your heart wrenches, and you wrap your arms around his neck and hug him tightly. "I only like you," you say into his shoulder. He wraps his arms around you gently. "Sorry. I should have more faith in us, shouldn't I?" Inseong asks. You nod vigorously against his shirt. "You definitely should. No other guy compares to you." 

Youngbin: He pretty much assumes there must be a misunderstanding. He still goes up to investigate, though. He walks right up to you guys and chats boldly, talking louder than usual and laughing a little aggressively, almost manic, and his eyes are hard. Then, he directs you away with his arm around your waist. 

You have to laugh. "So that's what you're like when you're jealous." His eyes widen and his jaw drops. "You did that on purpose?" He demands, but he almost looks impressed. You pout. "You were ignoring me." He studies you carefully, to gauge how upset you really are. He seems to conclude that you're not really upset, that you're actually pleased, and he laughs. "You did that just to mess with me?" He sounds amused, like he's charmed you would play a joke like that on him. "Next time, just tell me I'm not paying enough attention," he advises, and even though his smile is warm, you can tell he's being serious, that he means it. "I'll definitely take care of you."

Jaeyoon: He doesn't leave your side at parties, so when you start laying it on thick and then put your hand on another guy's arm, his eyes follow the movement. The look that he gives you is sharp. You immediately wonder what the hell you're doing. You're confused for the rest of the night because he's not really talking to you, but you can't tell if you're just being sensitive and it's all in your head because he's still got his arm around you. You wait till you're at the car to awkwardly admit you only did it to see if he'd get jealous.

"I was," he says bluntly. "I didn't like it at all." Something about the way he says it makes you smile, but you still feel a little guilty. "Sorry, I won't do it again." He looks at you carefully. "Please don't," he says. You realize he really means it, which makes you feel even worse. But he still holds your hand while he drives, and you realize he wouldn't have said anything if you hadn't brought it up. He'd hated it, but he wouldn't have tried to stop you. He really, really liked you. You squeeze his hand, and he glances at you from the side. "What's that smile?" He asks. You can feel your dopey grin but you don't care. You hope he appreciates it's a look you reserve just for him. "I like you a lot," you tell him seriously, and he laughs and nods. His eyes are soft when he says, "Yeah, I know."

Dawon: Dawon sees what's going on, but he pretends he doesn't every time you look and try to meet his eyes. But when you go back to him, he's super passive aggressive, verging on cruelty while he flashes you pretty smiles. You feel confused and pretty guilty and also mad. You're texting your friend to come pick you up after awhile because he's being so rude. When he finds you waiting outside twenty minutes later, waiting for your ride, he asks what's going on. You're in a bad mood now, so things escalate into a stupid argument. You have no idea how this even started, but you just know you feel hurt and sad now. And judging by the emotion behind his wavering anger, he feels hurt and sad too. He lets you go without comment when your friend shows up. That hurts even worse. Dawon doesn't like to be betrayed or made a fool out of. You begin to feel stupid as you try to fall asleep. After a half hour of staring at your ceiling, you dial him up, not expecting him to pick up so late but hoping he will, and he picks up on the second ring. You apologize in a rush, feeling scared and desperate that he won't accept your apology. He's quiet, then sighs heavily on the other end. "Aish... I'm an asshole," he mumbles. "I should have known it was just something innocent. I hate when you talk to other guys like that, though. I just get so jealous." You apologize again. "No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't be so jealous. I'll be better next time." You laugh weakly. "Why would I do this again?" You ask. "You better not," he says, but he sounds like he's joking and you relax. You guys say goodnight, and his voice is gentle when he says he'll see you tomorrow morning.

Rowoon: When Rowoon realizes what is happening, he retreats inward to sort out his feelings. He's a little cold though, completely absent from what's going on the rest of the party. The walk to the car is frosty and silent. You wonder how someone can look so pleasant and be so cold at the same time.  

"So, I tried something out," you begin experimentally before you part to different sides of the car. "I wanted to see what you were like when you were jealous." He turns to look at you in surprise, but his eyes are still unreadable. You begin to feel more nervous. "I was kinda... hoping you'd get angry and possessive and tell the guy to fuck off because I'm yours. You just kinda sat there, though," you rub your neck awkwardly. "So, I feel like I should explain. Like, maybe you didn't even notice, and something else is wrong—" you ramble, but at his look you stop talking. He's quiet for a moment. Then, he nods to himself as if this makes sense, and he cracks a smile, his frozen eyes beginning to thaw. "Ahh, so that's what that was," he nods. "You wanted me to get possessive and angry?" You shrug. He pulls you into a restraining hug and kisses your neck playfully, and you laugh. "You're mine," he promises, and you laugh because it tickles, and he's your usual cuddly boyfriend once more. 

Hwiyoung: It was supposed to just be a joke. But maybe—you miscalculated? Because after you flirt obviously with the random guy, Hwiyoung looks very cold when you meet his eyes. You try to act playful, but Hwiyoung all but ignores you. For the rest of the party, when people try to talk to him, he maintains that thin, fake smile that doesn't reach his icy eyes. You start getting antsy, and then you're pulling him into the corner to explain. Before you can begin, though, he's saying, "Maybe we should just break up," so casually that your eyes widen and your jaw drops. "You seem interested in other guys. I don't want to hold you back." Your heart clenches when you realize you must have really pissed him off—and hurt him, underneath his cold exterior.

"No," you finally get out. "No, I don't want to date anyone else, and I'm not interested in other guys." You explain the misunderstanding emphatically, looking up at him pleadingly as you apologize sincerely for taking a joke too far. Slowly, the ice cracks, and then Hwiyoung slumps against the wall. "Don't do that again," he says tiredly. "I couldn't be with a girl like that." You nod, contrite, and take his hand in yours to squeeze it. He meets your eyes and then cracks a smile. "You shouldn't look so pretty right now," he says. His voice is gentle and calm like always, and you breathe a sigh of relief.

Chani: You're being pretty obvious. You're practically in the guy's lap, but it's his hand that slides onto your thigh that sets off warning bells, and that's when Chani loses it. He has zero tact as he pops out of nowhere and greets you both with passive aggressive sarcasm. He doesn't even look at you. His words are cruel and aggressive, and after the initial shock and hurt and anger, it clicks what he's trying to do. He's trying to start a fight—with you or him or both. Right as the guy gets it, unfortunately, and they're both standing chest to chest. Chani is a few inches shorter, but he clearly isn't afraid judging by his calloused, obnoxious smirk. You try to get between them, but Chani won't keep his mouth shut, and the guy goes to punch him. Chani ducks and that's all the invitation he needed: he punches the other guy. You scream and stumble back as you watch your stupid boyfriend brawl someone over a joke. In the kitchen when he's icing his face with frozen peas, you guys bicker—you're worried and frustrated, and he's pissed off and shut down. You tell him he's an idiot, but he's got a one track mind. "Never fucking let someone touch you like that again." You scoff. "Yeah? What about you?" He looks so confused. "I'm your boyfriend." Like, of course he was allowed. You sigh. "You're so stupid. I was just trying to piss you off, and you let me," you say. "Yeah, well I got my revenge, didn't I?" His lips quirk into a smirk. "You're pretty upset too, right?" You shake your head, but you have to laugh.

[thirstyfortom]

Can you please write how story will turns out (after the party) if MC actually is a favourite daughter of the head of the most powerful criminal organization and even Saeran didn't know it, bc it was hidden very well? And her dad actually lost her for that 11 days. For RFA + Saeran +V. Hope, you'll like this idea. Love your writing!

I love requests like this, I’ve read them on other imagines blogs and it was so hard not to go the same way they did, so I tried to keep it soft. Like, her dad is very angry, but he can be very sarcastic and more passive aggressive than really violent and intimidating, and MC is the only one who’s not scared of him. And I think I just made this clear on Saeran one, but MC doesn’t have a mom here, which probably made her father even more concerned, since she’s the only one he has.

Hope you like it! ^^

TRIGGER WARNING: Mention of a panic attack on Saeran one

RFA + V and Saeran meeting MC’s criminal father

Zen                

Youtell him your gangsta boss dad wants to meet him

Hethinks is a joke at first, but when you two come to your father’s house and hesees the guns… boy

Hewas nervous just because he had to meet your father, now he’s pretty muchscared.

“Sweetie,is this your new bodyguard? If you wanted a pretty one, you should have askedme instead of looking for one on some stranger’s apartment. You roll your eyes.

“Oh,I’ve seen the news, isn’t that the guy accused of sexual harassment?” “Which healready proved being innocent, dad. Something that would never happen if youwent to trial. “

Zenis scared of seeing his delicate and sweet princess so feisty, but thinks yourinteraction with your father is kinda funny.

Notso funny when your father brings up everything he found about him. Schooldropout, former member of a biker’s gang and those promo pictures for“Promiscuous Jalapeno”…  your fatherdoesn’t even know what to think.

Butthe worst is the fact that you disappeared from his sight for 11 days and cameback with this guy… “Oh, she wasn’t with me for 11 days, sir. She’s been at myhouse for 2 nights, well, one and a half, technically…” ZEN, SHUT UP!

Bythat point you’re pretty much done with your dad’s passive aggressive threatsand Zen’s brutal honesty, so you snap: “Daddy, listen to me. I was staying atthis apartment for a couple of days, then he broke his leg and I went to hishouse to help him, but he kicked me out during night, which I must say… notcool, Zen! I got back to the apartment, which had a bomb on it, and then therewas this weird punk guy talking about taking me to paradise or whatever, andZen saved me, dad! I love him and I never felt safer like I feel around him!”

“You…saved her?” “Of course! She was left on her own at this apartment with a bomb!Can you believe it, sir?” and then the two of them started talking about yoursafety and… well, you were relieved they found something in common.

Inthe end, your father is very impressed about his fast healing and the fact thatthis isn’t his real name. “We work with fake names around here too.”

“Youlook very strong, son. If you ever consider changing careers, I might havesomething for you…” you refuse before Zen can say anything.

Yoosung

He’sso scared when you tell him your father wants to meet him

 Andyou didn’t even mention he is the head of the mafia

Whenyou do… poor thing, he keeps saying he’s fine, but you can see him shaking.

 Andall those guns on the dinner table aren’t helping at all…

“Hi,sir… I’m Yoosung Kim, I’m a vet student at Sky University, I’m 21 years old andthis isn’t my natural hair color!” What the fuck, Yoosung?

“Oh,Isee… sweetie, I thought you were bringing your boyfriend to dinner, who’s thatgirl?” “Very funny, dad.” He’s so terrified at the guns he doesn’t even hearthis comment.

“So,sweetie… long time no see, what you’ve been up too? I mean, besides going tostranger’s apartments and dating guys who could come across as your youngerbrother?” Now Yoosung listens, how mean…

“Nothingmuch, dad. I’ve been trying to get away from your overprotective care anddating a guy who hasn’t a criminal record, for a change. What about you?”Yoosung couldn’t believe the way you treat each other, if he ever talked withhis mother like that… well, he wouldn’t be here to tell the story.

Yourdad keeps throwing these shady comments during all dinner, and you know Yoosungdidn’t say anything yet because he’s trying to be respectful, not because he isa coward, so you let it out:

“Yoosung,don’t worry, I love you and I’m not going anywhere, no matter what my fathersays. And as for you, dad, I… do you really want to know what happened in those11 days? I’ll tell you! I was trapped with a bomb on his dead cousin’sapartment, may god rest her soul, and this guy  here did anything he could to find who led methere. See his eye? It’s MY fault! And it’s completely unfair to him to betreated like that when all he’s done to me is caring and loving me. So, please…just stop being this prick to the MAN I chose!”

“Whathappened to your eye, son?” “Oh, I… I was just gaining some time for my friendto run away, a guy… tortured me and…” “And you lived to tell? That guy was anamateur…” “Or maybe I’m stronger than you think, sir.” OH WOW!

Inthe end, your father really appreciates Yoosung’s devotion to you, sinceloyalty is something very important in his… business.

Healso likes how despite all that, he seems like a very innocent guy… oh, father!If he only knew the things you are gonna do with your boyfriend after seeinghim so confident like that…

Jaehee

Whenyou tell her your father wants to meet her, she seems fine?

Thenyou tell her about his… job, and she’s… not even impressed? Okay…

Itlooks more like you’ve never been here before, she… feels so calm…

“Hi,sweetie, you brought a friend for dinner?” “Girlfriend, daddy.”

“Oh…I see…” his tone is so monotone and cold, neither of you can tell what he’sthinking. Honestly, you can live with your father being a criminal, but hebeing a homophobic? That’s another story!

“Ishould have seen it coming, all these guys who work for me on this house everyday, and you never showed any interest on any of them.” “I like guys too,daddy, But the mafia thing, you know… is not really my type.”

“Well,sweetie, you should make up your mind before you hurt this poor woman…”“Bisexuality is a real thing, sir. And I won’t be hurt since I’m bisexual asyour daughter.” “Jaehee?” you look at her surprised, she’s not even looking athim and just calmly drinks her water.

“Okay,Ms. Kang. But should I be worried about you hurting my daughter, then? You seema little older than her, maybe a little more experienced, my daughter is aimmature naïve girl who disappeared from me for almost two weeks and came backthinking she’s bisexual… you are not using her, are you?” “Daddy, come on…”

“Youshould think higher of your own daughter, sir. She’s younger, but she’s smartand if you must know, she’s the one who’s been showing a lot more of knowledgein life helping me through my change of careers.” “Oh, really? Tell me moreabout that.”

And then she tells everything about leavingC  & R and opening her own business,and then she tells a little about her life, how was growing up at a house whereshe wasn’t wanted, graduating early in college and being a black belt in judo. sometimes I forget how baddass she is, Ilove her so much

Whenshe finishes, your dad is enchanted, and you fell in love with her all overagain.

 “Iapologize, Ms. Kang. You are a very amazing woman who does justice to anotheramazing woman. If you ever want some help with your business, I’ll be more thanglad to take down the competition…” “I would rather do that providing a goodservice, sir, but thanks…”

“Marryher, or I will…” your father whispers to you.

Jumin

Youtell him about dinner with your father.  He’s glad, he’s been longing to make yourrelationship official to both the families.

Whenyou tell him about  the mafia, he’s…curious. How come a sweet and innocent girl like you grew up at such a violentenvironment?

Hepromises he’ll try not to be judgmental, but as soon as he sees the henchmen inposition and the guns… he’s legitimately worried about you.

“Hello,how is your father?” “He’s fine, thank you for asking. Do you know each other?”“Well, his company has been a pain on my ass for a while now…” “It’s my companytoo, as it is very likely I’ll be the next CEO.” Jumin, shut up!

 “Isee… maybe we can do business pretty soon.” “Right now, I would rather focus ongetting to know my future father-in-law.” Uhh, Jumin, so smooth…

“Oh,so you’re the one who kept her trapped at your house for two days?” “I believeit was three days, sir.” WHAT THE FUCK, JUMIN? YOU’RE GONNA MENTION THE CAGETOO?

“Daddy,I was completely fine with him there. And I must say I felt way safer with himthan I ever felt here with all these… guns… and your… employees…” both of themen feel really flustered with your response.

“Now,sweetie, don’t be ungrateful. You might see me as overprotective, but I’malways concerned for your safety. And don’t let yourself be fooled. He lookslike a gentleman, but if he is anything like his father, you might be in trouble.”Oh boy…

“I’msure you mean well, sir. But I should warn you I’m nothing like my father. AndI must say I understand very well why would you be overprotective of such aadorable lady, but you should let her be free to make her own decisions. That’s…something I’m learning by myself as well…” both you and your father feel verythrilled right now.

“Well,I suppose she was safe with you after all, much better than being by herself atsome stranger’s apartment…”

Yourfather is very impressed about Jumin’s respect for you, he feels as reliable asany of his henchmen, and most importantly, you seem so happy… how can he fightagainst your happiness?

Dinneris over, and you accompany Jumin to his car where Driver Kim is waiting.“Jumin, be honest…” “Yes, MC?” “How many times you held yourself of answeringeverytime I said ‘daddy’?” “More than you would like to know, MC…”

Saeyoung

He’spretty nervous about meeting your father when you tell him.

Butwhen you tell him about his job, he’s surprisingly more relaxed?

Ohcome on, he’s been dealing with shady people his whole life! Why would he beworried?

“Ohsweetie, you brought a clown with you, when is your boyfriend coming?” Saeyounghas a comeback involving “coming”, you almost can read his mind and just glareat him, so he gives up.

“So…you must be the boy who got trapped with my daughter at some stranger’sapartment, then took her to this secret cult organization, huh?” “Yeah, and don’tforget the bomb!” Goddamit, Saeyoung!

“Well,if it makes you feel any better, daddy, he really tried to push me away, but Iwas very insistent.” “Push you away how, sweetie?” “The same things you used totell my mom…” oh, that explains a lot…

“Isee, so you were a jerk to her…” shit, you though it would be enough… it onlymade it worse!

“Yes,but if it is the same case here, I’m sure you were only thinking about yourwife’s safety…” “And yet she ended knocked up, are you trying to imply it’ll bethe case here?” SHIT SHIT SHIT!

Saeyoungsees his confidence fading away. This man is different, he’s not just somethug, he’s you father, the man who raised you. Why did he think he could beokay with all this? Your father is absolutely right about hating him, he putyou in big danger!

Yousee your boyfriend conscience splitting, it’s too much for you to handle, soyou vent: “Daddy, don’t be like that! Mom always told me how much you sufferedacting like that around her, he suffered the same way, daddy! Even worse,because the person who was after me it’s his own brother who he didn’t see fora long time and… daddy, if you only knew what kind of hell the two of them grewup….” You couldn’t help but cry, Saeyoung hugs you, he doesn’t even care yourfather is watching this.

“Tellme, son. I want to hear your story.” And then Saeyoung tells him everything,always holding your hand.

“Andyour father is the current prime minister? I never liked that guy, anyway. He’s always been a despicable little man!” that coming from the mafia’s head…

Saeran

He’sfreaking out about meeting your dad, because he doesn’t really feel comfortablearound, well… people

Thenyou tell him about your father’s job, and he thinks it’s kinda cute you tryingto joke to make him relax

Youtell him is not a joke, he doesn’t believe it because he did a whole backgroundcheck on you before deciding you should be the one to stay at Rika’s apartment,and there wasn’t no mention about this.

But,come to think of it, this kind of information shouldn’t be easy to find out,right? Oh shit…

But yourfather being a criminal doesn’t really bother him, he would be terrified abouthim even if your father were a geologistor whatever.

Theguns and the whole atmosphere on the house is very familiar to him… it remindshim of… oh no! He can’t go there on a moment like this!

“So…if this isn’t the one who kidnapped my daughter. Seriously, sweetie? StockholmSyndrome? I thought I taught you not to fall in love with criminals…”

“W-Well,sir, there’s also Lima Syndrome, when the kidnapper is the one in love…” oh no,Saeran… please keep quiet…

“Howromantic, huh?” your father scoffs, Saeran feels the air escaping from his lungs for a moment, no…no no! Stay calm, Saeran…

Dinneris being a disaster, your father keeps glaring and insulting Saeran on hisusual passive aggressive manner. You look at Saeran, you’ve seen him like thisbefore, he’s…

“He’shaving a panic attack!” you jump out of your chair and go to him, your fathernever seen you move so fast.  He observesyou helping this kid telling him to inhale and exhale like he learned intherapy… what’s going on?

“Thanksa lot, daddy!” “MC, calm down… I’m okay…” “No, Saeran, he has to listen! Dad,if you can live in peace with your own crimes, good for you, but not everybodyis capable of. You see this guy here? He tells me everyday how much he regretsthe things he did. I’m able to forgive the men I love, I did it with you, whywouldn’t I do for him?”

“You’re…in love with me?” “I already told you that, Saeran…” “Yeah, but if you’resaying in front of you father, you really mean it…” “Well, yeah, I meant beforetoo…”

Thenyour father realize this is just a very lost kid, like he used to be when wewas younger. Your mom passed away very young, so he always wondered if shewould be able to make him regret it and have a normal life. He’s so glad yourmother’s kindness lives through you and if you’re so willing to heal this guy,who is he to get on the way?

V

He’svery happy when you tell him your father wants to meet him.

Andhe doesn’t seem to mind your father’s job. “If he was able to raise such awonderful person like you, he’s not bad at all. Who am I to judge him, anyway?”This guy…

Andhe doesn’t even flinch when your father shower him with threats disguised asquestions. “Do you know what people like me do when their loved onesdisappear?” “Are you really that insane to show up here like nothing happened?”

 “Daddy,please stop…” “I’m just trying to understand what’s gotten into you, sweetie.This older blind guy and… you? I’m sorry to say, but I never knew you had somuch daddy issues…” “What are you even saying, dad?”

 “Withall due respect, sir, daddy issues most of times implies that the daughterseeks for his father features on men she falls in love with. For what I cantell, you and I are nothing alike.” Oh no… V being passive-aggressive gives youthe creeps more than all these henchmen…

“You’reright, I’ve never put her in dangerous on purpose. You, on the other hand,allowed her to stay at a place where I know it happens to have a bomb,correct?” “Yet, she claims she’s never felt safer, that says a lot about yourown household, no?”

Thispolite fight is driving you insane. How can they discus about you like if youwere not even there? “SHUT UP YOU BOTH! Dad, you have every right to be mad,but you should know this man here was doing his best to make sure that,whatever was happening, I wouldn’t be hurt, and he didn’t even know me thatwell… and V, please don’t talk to my father like that, he’s just as scared andworried as you were, and please, don’t ever talk about me or my life as if Icouldn’t speak for myself.”

“I’mso sorry, love, I had no idea I was acting like that!” he rushes to hug you andkeeps apologizing, your father wonders if this man is real…

“Sir,I sincerely apologize for my behavior. I know exactly how it feels wanting toprotect someone you cherish this much. Just know you raised an amazing womanwith the most beautiful soul and I deeply respect you for that.” Your fatherthought you were the one in danger? Now he feels sorry for this poor man havingto handle your temper… and nah, he can’t possibly be real, can he?

[a-y-o-k-o-o-k]

Switched luggage at the airport : brohm

(Bryce calls Ohm on skype through his computer)

Bryce: ohm? you there?

Ohm: yeah im here! sorry it took me so long, the wifi here is really fuckin' slow. *moves phone around trying to get a good angle of his face*

Bryce: I'm guessing your still at the airport due to all the noise *giggle*

Ohm: *soft laugh* yeah, the waiting queue is taking forever god damn it.

Bryce: thats sad.

Ohm: i know right!

Bryce: so I guess that means you have your luggage still on you then? *gives him a questioning side glare*

Ohm: well yeah, i have to pull this heavy piece of shit with me everywhere. *tilts phone so Bryce can see the suitcase at his side*

Bryce: Great! now about that luggage.. *sheepish grin*

Ohm: Bryce? what did you do? *scolds him while talking to him like a child*

Bryce: i might have done a bad and switched our luggage. *talks softly*

Ohm: Bryce! *facepalms* you didn't go through it did you?

Bryce: ahhh I may have just a little bit. *squints eyes*

Ohm: fucking hell Bryce. Then who's do i have?

Bryce: Well I'm hoping mine, otherwise someone gets to take my Micky mouse ears home and gift them to their grandchildren.

Ohm: well we don't want that now do we Brycey?

Bryce: *crosses his arms across his chest* absolutely not!

Ohm: *laughs at Bryce's child like antics* alright let have a look, just hang on a sec. *puts the phone down on the floor as he opens the suitcase*

Bryce: I can't really go anywhere so yeah, i guess I'll hang for a sec. *comments smart assly*

Ohm: *picks phone back up* you're in luck my friend. *turns camera toward Bryce's open suitcase to show his mickey mouse ears sitting on top*

Bryce: phew *wipes imaginary sweat off his forehead* i guess that's that fixed. *giggles cutely*

Ohm: that's great and all Bryce but, what the fuck am i going to do now?! my flight is about to lift off, the line to even get your tickets up is taking 3 years, I just found out I have the wrong luggage and need to find a way to get to your house, come back to the airport, line up in the queue for another 5 hours and get on a plane that is already half way across the sea?! *he lists complaining*

Bryce: ohm. *looks into the camera reassuringly*

Ohm: what? *looks back panicked and way less calm then before*

Bryce: you need to calm your tits and think for a minute. there's no way you'll be able to come to my house and back in time for your flight *he began listing off his fingers* even if i decided to bring your luggage to you there still won't be enough time and the only other option is you take my luggage with you and the next time we meet up we give each others stuff back.

Ohm: but who knows how long that might be?!

Bryce: *shruggs* sorry bud not much i can do about that.

Ohm: there's gotta be another option? *he says as he finally takes a step forward in the line*

Bryce: well... *scratchs under his chin*

Ohm: What?... well what?! *he says in anticipation*

Bryce: i guess you could hang at my house for a little longer.

Ohm: YES! *says so loud the family lined up in front of him turned around startled*

Ohm: i-i mean, yes please.

Bryce: *laughs sweetly at ohm's excitement* well then, it'll probably be best if you get out the line dont you think? *smiles wildly*

Ohm: oh yeah i guess your right. excuse me miss, pardon me. *Bryce watched as ohms phone swayed as he tried to get out of the queue*

Bryce: oh and about your plane tickets, we can exchange them for another flight. *he says in a plain tone*

Ohm: What! why didn't you tell me that before?! *makes it to the back of the line and walks towards the exit doors to the drop off parking lot*

Bryce: i forgot, sheesh. *runs hand through hair while looking to his right as something catching his eye*

Bryce: hey ohm? *reaches down to grab something*

Ohm: hmm? *hums not even looking at bryce's cam*

Bryce: i also forgot to ask you about this. *holds up an 'i love Bryce McQuaid' t-shirt that he found in ohms suitcase*

how long have you had this exactly? *smirkfull grin*

Ohm: *looks at Bryce through his phone a little blush on his cheeks but Bryce didn't notice* oh my god, Can you just come pick me up?! *he says passive aggressively*

Bryce: alllright, I'll see you soon then buddy. *puts the shirt down on his lap* but I still have some question for you like.. why is my face on that pillow.

Ohm: *rubs his forehead in frustration* I'll tell you later, just get your ass in the car before i get to the exit.

Bryce: im on it dont worry, i'll be there before you can say i love Bryce McQuaid.

Ohm: wouldn't even say it if my life depended on it. *he jokes smiling*

Bryce: right? that's why you have a shirt to say it for you, got it. *smirks devilishly giggling*

Ohm: okay im gonna hang up im almost at the door. it would be unfair if i didn't give you enough time to beat me to it?

Bryce: a challenge? oh your on!

Ohm: *chuckles* bye Bryce.

bryce: see you in a bit. *whispers* fangirl.

(hangs up call)