#Even though it's been like 4 days since the rejection message

[applejarjar]

*sending an email asking for interview feedback as if that wasn't the best interview of my life and if you made me interview again I would burst into tears'

[kaisacobra]

Second Best - Tara Carpenter

Summary: It used to be Tara and you against the world, but now you can't remember the last time she'd ever put you first.

Warnings: Fem!Reader, brief weed mention, alcohol, mentions of throwing up, angst

Word Count: 4.8k

a/n: Part two, anyone?

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4 (alternate ending)

Everybody knew that you would always be by Tara Carpenter's side. Her friends, her family, and even Tara herself. Especially Tara.

When the girl's sister left home without explanations shortly after their father, and when Christina Carpenter began what would become a long battle with alcoholism, you were there for the younger Carpenter. You held her in your arms as she cried, unsure of herself, confessing between sobs that she felt cursed, as everyone she loved eventually left.

You were already friends, of course, but from that moment on, you had made a powerful oath that almost felt like it had been signed in blood. You would never be like the others. You would never leave Tara alone.

She smiled at your promise and allowed you to wipe away her tears with the sleeve of your sweatshirt. It was such a small gesture, but just catching a glimpse of her dimples made you consider that promise like the words of the Bible. Little things about Tara always made your heart race and brightened your world. You eagerly awaited every day for a fleeting sight of the girl's smile, and a part of you dimmed on the days you didn't see it.

It was evident that you were in love with Tara, perhaps even more than that, as the feeling was so intense that it could hardly be described with words. However, your relationship with her was also driven by your devotion. You never made any mention of what you felt for her, too scared to even consider the idea of confessing your love and facing potential rejection, which could eventually lead to the downfall of such a perfect friendship. Yet, your love language was well expressed in the everyday actions you did for her.

It was very obvious, so much so that even Mindy had noticed. Your smart friend Mindy, who had noticed how you looked at Tara like a lost puppy and always catered to her wishes. Your observant friend Mindy, who had also noticed how Tara didn't seem to do even half of the same for you.

She talked to you about it with the best intentions, but still, you had to discuss it with Tara. How could you not? Tara was your best friend! Keeping something like that from her would be almost like a betrayal! And the young Carpenter girl obviously felt uncomfortable with Mindy's statement, finding it completely absurd.

"She must be jealous of us!" Tara said defensively, crossing her arms. Her hair gently moved to the side as she huffed. "Yeah! That's it. She probably just envies not having someone as close to her as we are."

You didn't mention how Mindy had a twin brother who literally was always with her because there was no need. Tara must be right, as usual. Instead, you just nodded in agreement and volunteered to make more popcorn for your movie night.

That doesn't mean the words of the Meeks-Martin girl simply vanished from your mind. Everybody knew that you would always be by Tara Carpenter's side, but would Tara Carpenter always be by your side?

_

I'm boreddd. 

Wanna do something?

It was 11pm when Tara sent you this message, the notification ding echoing through the walls of your quiet and currently calm dorm room. You took your eyes off the book you were studying, and a sigh escaped your lips as you read the words on the notification bar. It was almost midnight, and even though the next day was a Saturday, you didn't feel like leaving the college dorm and taking 2 subways to get to the Carpenters' apartment.

Especially because things had been weird since the events in Woodsboro.

You looked around to avoid the phone screen, as if that would make the message disappear along with your dilemma. The room was dark, except for the lamp lit on your desk, and you had planned to relax and watch an interesting movie, taking advantage of the fact that your roommate had gone to some fraternity party.

But it was still Tara. Even after what happened, it was still Tara, and you could never say no to the girl.

Defeated by your own feelings, you picked up your phone and thought for a few seconds before typing something decent in response.

Sure. I'll be there in 30.

You barely had time to get up from the chair when someone started calling you, the saved contact name indicating that it was your best friend. With a sigh and a grimace, you answered, quickly putting the call on speaker and placing the phone on the table so you could get ready more quickly.

"Tara?" You called out as you searched for some nicer clothes in your wardrobe. "I just sent you a message, okay? I'll be there in 30."

"No! Don't come here!" The girl answered with an urgent tone that sparked your concern. Was something happening at the apartment? you thought. Before you could let go of the shirt in your hands to get the phone, she continued speaking. "I thought we could go out? There's a party happening near campus, a guy from my class invited me."

Feeling a bit more relieved now that you knew nothing was wrong, your brain caught onto what you well recognized as Tara's sheepish tone. Your "spidey sense" for trouble seemed to be buzzing when you thought of a specific detail. "Did Sam allow you to go? At this hour of the night? To a party?"

Since the massacre last year, the dynamics in everyone's normal lives had obviously undergone some changes, but perhaps the biggest of all was the role Sam had come to play in Tara's life, as the adult presence she had always needed. Unfortunately, the younger Carpenter didn't seem too thrilled about it.

It was clear that she was more than happy to have her older sister back; that wasn't the issue. The problem was that Tara had gotten used to essentially raising herself. She didn't have a curfew, nor did she have someone breathing down her neck about her grades; she simply made the best decisions for herself and enjoyed the freedom of not having anyone hold her accountable for anything.

You knew Tara well enough to understand that this was driving her crazy. She wanted to change, wanted to move forward and not have to look back and face the horrors she endured, but she also didn't want anything to change. You knew, more than anything, that Tara didn't want anything to have changed.

Maybe that's why she never brought up the things she had said.

The girl's voice on the other end of the line snapped you out of your thoughts. "She took a shift at a bar. If we go now, we can be back before she even notices I'm gone."

"I don't know, Tara," You scratched your neck, trying to convey your skepticism in your voice. "What if she finds out? She'll be furious, and God knows I'm terrified of your sister."

"Oh, come on. If anything happens, I'll be the only one she gets mad at. Besides, Sam loves you. I dare to say she loves you more than she loves me."

Despite Tara's playful tone when saying those words, you pondered their meaning. It was true that within your group of friends, Sam considered you the most responsible and felt a sense of gratitude for your efforts in protecting Tara while she was away. It was painful to admit, but perhaps it was true that Sam loved you more than Tara did.

Especially because Tara was the one who replaced you. Not Sam.

"Come on, please!" The Carpenter girl tried again. "It'll be fun! Mindy and Chad are meeting us there!"

"Oh." You paused, a bad feeling spreading through your chest. "Do they already know about the plan?"

Tara laughed, as if you had made a joke. "Of course. I talked to you last because I knew it would be harder to convince you."

A bitter taste lingered on your tongue. There was no reason for you to have thought that Tara might want you to accompany her to the party alone, but the truth was that you could never control your wishful thinking that maybe, one day, she could see you as something more than just a friend.

But, of course, you hadn't been Tara's first choice for anything in a long time.

Still, your irrational love made you choose Tara every time. "Okay. Send me the address."

With the call ended and a notification with the address of the party, you ruffled your hair in frustration and decided to focus on choosing at least a presentable outfit for a night filled with loud sounds, bright lights, questionable drinks, and even more questionable people.

Your eyes were fixed on options of shirts, pants, and dresses, but your mind seemed determined to remind you of the same thoughts that kept you awake at night. Why were you still subjecting yourself to this? Even after what happened last year?

You remembered it had started gradually. Tara and Amber's friendship. It used to be just conversations about common interests, gossip about annoying people at school, and the usual teenage life complaints. You were still Tara's best friend, still the person she sought at the end of the day.

Suddenly, it was taken away from you. Tara and Amber seemed to grow closer, and people started to see them as a single entity. Amber became included in everything you and your friends did, and Tara's presence became scarcer in your life as she had more and more commitments with the dark-haired girl.

You became a secondary thought for Tara, as if your strong friendship meant nothing. As if your promises meant nothing. When the two of them started a relationship, then you knew you had no chance of getting your Tara back.

Still, out of love and consideration for her, you decided to stay. You still had the same group of friends, anyway, and you didn't want the atmosphere to become awkward or any friendships to be broken. You continued to do your best for Tara even if she didn't know or even acknowledge you the way she once did.

Every now and then, you think about how it could have spared you a lot if you had distanced yourself at that moment.

With your chosen outfit and an immense desire to give up, you left home and began to make your way to the party location. It wasn't too far, so you could walk, but the dimly lit streets and the silence of the late hour left your nerves on edge.

Fear had always been a constant emotion in your life. Fear of people judging your sexuality, of Tara discovering what you felt for her, of Tara growing tired of you. Eventually, this fear escalated to the fear of being killed by a maniac who wanted to kill you and all your friends with a knife.

Oh, sweet memories.

The thump of some music booming from a speaker made your walk feel a little less lonely. You began to hear the sounds and see the lights of the party as you approached the house. There were people dancing on the sidewalk with bottles in hand, and others sitting on the front stairs, passing a joint from hand to hand and laughing at absolutely nothing.

You glanced through the open window, and a hint of panic struck you as you realized the immense crowd of people packed together. How the hell were you going to find your friends like this?

Taking a deep breath, you decided to get it over with and entered the house, looking around for at least one familiar face. You tried to make your way through the people shouting and dancing together, elbowing some and pushing others. No one seemed to care anyway, being more interested in enjoying the moment.

Fortunately, your salvation came in the form of Mindy Meeks-Martin, who spotted you from her place on the couch and raised her hand for you to see. You approached your friend and you could see that next to her was an unfamiliar girl. She had shoulder-length hair with platinum highlights at the tips, and a cute face. The two seemed to be sitting close to each other, but you decided not to comment on it. Mindy would tell you eventually if this was going to be something.

"I can't believe she actually convinced you to come," Your friend commented, raising the red plastic cup in her hand in a greeting, along with her trademark sarcastic smile. "Have a little self-respect, y/n."

"Ugh. You're annoying." You rolled your eyes and looked between the two girls sitting in front of you. "So... who are you?"

The unknown girl smiled kindly and waved. "Anika. Nice to meet you."

"She's from one of my classes," Mindy quickly explained, and you noticed her hand hovering over Anika's shoulder before giving a casual nod and starting to look around for a certain person.

Realizing your thoughts were elsewhere, the twin sighed and nodded her head in a direction. "She's in the kitchen. You know, you should have some fun before you start your babysitting duties."

You smiled and began to turn. "If I wanted to have fun, I wouldn't be here. You know that." With that, you gave a final wave to the two girls and headed to the place you could now identify as the kitchen.

Being in a fraternity house, you hadn't expected to find an organized and clean room in the midst of a party, but you also didn't expect it to be this bad. Plastic cups were scattered on the floor, spilling liquids you couldn't identify, some couples were kissing, including one that was making out on the countertop full of empty bottles and crushed chip bags.

The strong smell of alcohol, smoke, and even sweat irritated your nostrils, but at least the light was bright enough for you to see what was in front of you. This allowed you to witness the exact moment when a certain girl, no more than 150cm tall, ran out of the room with her hand covering her mouth.

Muttering a curse, you sprinted after her, praying that at least she could make it to the bathroom before throwing up. You knew how Tara was at parties. Weak with alcohol but stubborn enough to keep drinking even knowing she was pushing her limits.

You still remembered the first time this happened. Amber had thrown another one of her parties, and this time, Tara was determined to drink everything she could, claiming it would be fun. You had declined her request for you to do the same, arguing that someone needed to stay sober enough to make sure the house didn't catch fire, but in reality, you just wanted to make sure you could take care of Tara if necessary.

As predicted, she drank so much that she spent 20 minutes puking in the bathroom. She asked you a few times not to worry, that Amber would show up soon to take care of her, but the girl didn't appear until the end of the party. In the meantime, you took her place, holding Tara's hair back and getting water to prevent her from getting dehydrated.

You had always been there to take care of Tara, and yet...

The flashbacks from that day gave you a sense of déjà vu as you did the same thing, but at a different party, years later. One of your hands held Tara's hair in a ponytail while the other stroked the girl's back, trying to provide some comfort as she emptied her stomach into the toilet.

When she finished, you closed the lid and flushed, leaving the girl leaning against the wall as you went to get a tissue to wipe her face. You silently thanked the closed bathroom door for doing a good job of muffling the loud sounds from the living room, as you needed something quieter now.

With the tissue now in hand, you turned to look at Tara, and your heart skipped a beat. It was unfair and almost inhumane that the girl could still look like the statue of an angel even when sweaty and weak. Your eyes traced every feature of her face, from her closed eyes to the slightly open mouth. You knew Tara's face as if it were a map, but every time you looked at her again, you found a different kind of beauty, almost like an unexplored path.

You crouched down to be at eye level with her face and began to gently clean the dirty areas so delicately that some might think the girl was made of porcelain. She shifted a bit at your touch, and a hint of her dimple began to show as she murmured softly, "Thanks, Amber."

The words that sounded so sweet and vulnerable came out of Tara's mouth like projectiles that punched a hole in your chest. Your lips trembled, and tears began to threaten to fall down your face, causing you to close your eyes to contain the flow.

It still hurt. It still hurt to know that Tara kept choosing her even after everything.

It was painful enough when Tara was attacked, and you had to anxiously wait as she went in and out of surgeries with no prognosis in sight, especially a positive one. But everything that followed caused the worst pain you had ever felt in your life.

It would be much easier to blame Amber for everything that happened. She was the one responsible for filling Tara's head with lies and manipulation in a moment of vulnerability, talking about how you were suspicious for living near the Carpenter house and not hearing anything, how it was obvious to everyone that you were obsessed with Tara and maybe had finally gone crazy because you couldn't have her.

But you couldn't put all the blame on her when Tara was the one who got scared when you visited her alone in the hospital. You couldn't ignore that Tara was the one who looked into your eyes and told you to leave, saying she was afraid of you. Saying she would never feel the same way about you.

Tara only believed your words after everything was over, and Amber and Richie were dead in the hall of Stu Macher's old house. You never received an apology, but maybe the blame was yours for not demanding one. You were so focused on taking care of Tara, as always, that you just let it slide as if it hadn't happened.

But at midnight, when you can't sleep, you wonder what would happen if Tara could choose you as the killer instead of Amber. You're afraid of what the answer would be.

But, as always, you put yourself second and bite your lower lip hard to prevent yourself from crying. Creating more distance between you and Tara's face, crushing the tissue in your hands to stay centered, you uttered the words as gently as you could. "Y/n, Tara. It's y/n."

"Oh." Tara chuckled, as if she had made an innocent mistake and not just called you by the name of her deceased ex-girlfriend. "My bad."

My bad. That's all she said.

But you continued to clean Tara, even knowing that the most you would get the next day would be a thank you if she hadn't been drunk enough to forget everything.

Love could be a real leash sometimes, but maybe you were at fault for letting Tara hold it.

_

You had never felt so exhausted in your life.

As you watched your friends having fun at the Halloween party, Chad and Ethan dancing on the dance floor, Mindy and Anika, as always, sitting together on a couch, and Tara drinking her whatever-number-it-was drink, you felt as if an anchor was pulling you down and waiting for the right moment to bury you under the ground.

It was a constant and growing exhaustion within you since Woodsboro. Everything seemed stacked, and you hadn't even stopped to seek help, trying to juggle everything as if everything were fine, as if a part of you weren't dying day after day.

You were trying to stay strong. For yourself, for your studies, for your friends. For Tara. But, oh, how difficult it was.

Meanwhile, Tara danced freely with some stranger, drinking a bit more of whatever was in her plastic cup. Part of you wondered if she would ever notice that you needed her help, her support, even if it were just for friendship.

But then, you remember the unspoken apologies and realize that perhaps Tara doesn't know you as well as you know her. Most likely, she may not care enough to try to notice any change in your behavior, as long as it doesn't affect the way you treat her.

It was pathetic and humiliating that you kept coming back to her and treating her as the center of your world even though the feeling clearly wasn't mutual. But the love you felt for Tara consumed you like the most powerful drug in your system. It might not be healthy, but you needed her presence to calm down, needed her to look at you to breathe, needed to make her laugh to feel your heartbeat.

And every time she laughed at one of your terrible jokes or every time she leaned on you during a movie, it was as if all the bad things disappeared just for the tiny possibility that she might be opening her heart to you, so you could finally have a chance to make her happy.

Your cloudy thoughts made the party pass quickly, like a timelapse in a movie, and you realized you had been standing in the same place while everyone else was having fun around you. How fitting.

When you really started paying attention to your surroundings, it was already too late. Sam had entered and tased a guy in the balls, and Tara had stormed out of the house completely furious. You quickly followed Mindy and Anika outside, knowing that a fight was about to happen.

The street was chilly at that early hour of the morning, and you tried to suppress a shiver that ran through your body. Most of your friends had also left the house, and all of you could see the Carpenter sisters arguing a bit further ahead. Both were angry and yelling at each other, and you knew Sam was right, but this conversation would probably be better to have in a private setting, without the curious eyes of other people passing by on the sidewalk.

You already had enough problems in your daily life without needing another Twitter post calling Sam a crazy scene maker.

"Hey, I'll try to talk to them, okay?" You practically whispered to Mindy. "It's better to resolve this at home."

"Isn't it better not to get involved?" She whispered back, but you were already determined that this was the best solution, letting the advice go in one ear and out the other. As you approached the sisters with cautious steps, their voices gradually increased and became more aggressive.

Sam noticed you approaching them and pointed at you, which caused you some astonishment, making you slow your steps to grasp the situation. "If you won't listen to me, why can't you at least listen to y/n?! She's your best friend, isn't she? At least she knows you need therapy, not drowning your sorrows in alcohol!"

Your cheeks heated up at the comment, and you shifted uncomfortably in place. The entire street seemed to be looking at your group now, urging you to try again to end the argument at that moment. "Guys, maybe we-"

"Oh, I'm sure you wish I were more like y/n!" Tara shouted and turned to you with a dark look. She was still clearly intoxicated, and her wobbly posture was the biggest indicator of that, even though she tried to restrain herself by crossing her arms over the pirate costume.

She scrutinized you from head to toe with a malicious smile that sent chills down your spine. "Sweet little y/n. Pathetic and stuck in the same place all these years. Is that how you want me to be, Sam?"

The tone loaded with disdain, even slurred by the alcohol, felt like a stab to your heart, bringing some tears to your eyes. She's drunk, it doesn't mean anything, that's what you were trying to tell yourself.

But... Drunk people usually speak the hidden truths lurking in the depths of their minds, don´t they?

Still, Tara didn't seem satisfied with what she said. "You said I need therapy, Sam, but what about her, huh? All this time, and she does nothing but stick to me. That's bordering on obsession, isn't it?"

Obsession. Exactly what Amber used to say about what you felt for Tara.

The cold of the street and the overall situation clashed to determine who would control the tremors running through your body. Shame and humiliation left your ears hot and your head dizzy, as if you were about to faint and fall onto the freezing concrete sidewalk.

"Tara, that's enough." You heard Mindy's voice closer, or maybe it was farther away. Your sense of location seemed to blend and twist along with all the other senses. The sound of something shattering reached your ears, and it could be either a bottle or your own broken heart.

"Why? She'll always end up coming back anyway." The younger Carpenter murmured and staggered with unsteady steps until she got close enough for you to smell the cheap alcohol on her breath. You wanted to move, run away so she couldn't see the tears streaming down your cheeks, but Tara's gaze left you as petrified as Medusa's.

You swallowed hard as your eyes focused anywhere but on the girl in front of you as a last attempt to escape from this torment, but it wasn't enough to prevent Tara's words from rolling off her tongue like poison.

"You know you'll never be her, right?"

Sobs escaped your throat, and you no longer felt control over your body. Unfortunately, your reaction seemed to fuel something primal in Tara. "Why do you still try?! Do you know how hard it is to ignore your pleading eyes every time you see me?! As if I'm a damn monster just because I don't want to kiss you?! It exhausts me! You exhaust me!"

"I never asked you for anything. I just... I just love you." You whispered those words the best you could with a shaky voice and quivering lips. Looking at Tara used to be the best part of your day, but now it felt so painful that your insides seemed to be squeezed.

The girl flashed a mean smile, and, for the first time, the sight of her dimples made you ache. 

"Then stop. You weren't my first choice back then, and you won't be my first choice now."

More sobs escaped you, and the whole world seemed overstimulating. Lights were too bright, sounds were unintelligible yet too loud, everything seemed to tremble and crumble at your feet, and you just wanted to curl up in a fetal position and beg for that pain in your chest to go away.

Someone pulled Tara away from you, and a gentle hand rested on your shoulder, but your eyes were too watery to identify the owner. Nothing made sense, and you didn't even know how you were still standing. A physical pain spread through your body like a disease, and Tara's words echoed in your head like a siren.

Without the strength to stay there any longer, you turned around and ran as fast as you could towards what you hoped was the direction of your dormitory. It was already late, and the streets were empty and dark, but you didn't care anymore. The faint sound of an aggressive conversation faded from your ears as you ran farther and farther away from everyone.

You had always been by Tara Carpenter's side.

But now? Now, you were tired of being her second best.

[cafeinthemoon]

It's a Fire - Chapter IV

Chapter 4

Wordcount 4,3k

Title Difficult Task

Fandom Kimetsu no Yaiba / Demon Slayer

Previous chapters

1 . 2 . 3

Symbols ⭕ ➕ 🖤

Warnings: mentions of grief and loss; parent issues; feelings of abandonment and rejection; issues between employees and employer

Tagging @chiyokoemilia (If you want to be tagged in any of my stories, just leave a comment on this chapter or send an ask or a message)

N. A.: This chapter took days to be finished, not only bc of its length, but mainly bc I was finding it a bit confusing. I wasn't sure of how I should portrait this "advance" in reader and Shinjuro's relationship, neither how much of reader and Senjuro's grief after the scene in the living room: sometimes I thought I just wrote enough, and other times I though it wasn't as emotional as it should be, so that what you're going to read is the best I could come up with.

Soon I'm going to return to work, so Idk how things will be, so I ask you a bit of patience and thank you in advance for supporting me :)

It wasn’t shame what you felt when you looked into your stepson’s eyes, neither it was fear or irritation for being caught in a place where you shouldn’t be: it was the concern that he might have observed your face for long enough to read your emotions with too precision for someone his age. And, in fact, you were tempted to show a passionate reaction, whether to confirm or to deny your feelings, just for the sake of getting that weight off your chest, but you tightened the reigns around your tongue and didn’t do any of this.

This is adults’ problem. He doesn’t need to share this load with us.

Senjuro looked around, as if waiting for someone to show up suddenly and, after making sure it wouldn’t happen, stepped into the room.

– So… you found out about the living room? – he questioned with the usual hesitation – It’s been a while since this place was visited. Except for the maid.

You still felt your eyes burning with the things you were seeing there, but you wouldn’t burst out in tears. You sighed and crossed your arms.

– Yes, I can see that – after an embarrassing silence, you forced a smile while observing the photographs – Now I understand why I had no permission to enter this room. I should’ve obeyed the rules.

– But you’d find out about this sooner or later, I guess – was the boy’s reply – And my father isn’t here, anyway. Not even he uses to come here anymore.

You swallowed.

– If that’s the case, we better leave before he returns to the house.

He agreed and you walked out at that moment, taking care not to mess up anything, thus creating proof of your passage there.

***

You were sitting on a wood bench somewhere in the garden, as you used to do during the breaks between one training session and another or when you decide to eat lunch there, which was that day’s case. It was a safe spot to relax, as well as to talk.

And you had too much to talk.

Still embarrassed, you took the responsibility of starting the conversation.

– I should never enter that room. No matter if I escaped without being caught, it was wrong. But it’s too late for regrets now, I guess.

You said those things with a calm that surprised even yourself. When you first spotted Senjuro in the doorway, you swore you wouldn’t be able to look at him again, and even worse it would be to face your husband once he got back, trying your best to hide what you did from him, but that wasn’t how you felt now. You were rather sad for what you discovered, and for the things such discovery implied.

Senjuro noticed this too, and he said that to you.

– You don’t seem so mad about the photographs, y/n. I thought you’d be offended that my father keeps them in an entire room instead of, like, a drawer.

You gave him a sad smile.

– Why would I be mad by this? I mean, I could imagine him keeping photographs and other memories in drawers like you say, and seeing the whole room full of them was… unexpected. Still, I’m no one to judge – you lowered your tone, as if the next thing you’d share with him was more of a delicate conclusion – Instead, seeing them got me thinking about your situation here.

The boy frowned.

– Situation? What do you mean?

You moved on your spot, as to shake off the discomfort of entering that strange territory.

– Well, I’ve been avoiding intrusions, but this time I can’t help it. Senjuro-san, your family... was beautiful with your mother and your elder brother there. I’ve felt that as soon as I’ve put my eyes on those photographs. Your father… – you felt your cheeks getting hot with what you were about to say, but you ignored the sensation – He’s a completely different person by their side, and yours. He looks really happy there. I could never imagine him like that, you know? I guess this is what surprised me most – you bit your lip – Because, when I found out I’d have to live with you, I had no idea of what I’d see here, and after the things I’ve experienced, seeing our life together as something positive was impossible. But, then, I’ve saw your family as it once was… And understood that the issue is deeper than it first looked. The loss you’ve both endured… that’s too much…

A leaf fell from the tree behind your bench. Senjuro held it on his right hand.

– I understand what you’re trying to say. I was too little when my mother passed away, so I barely remember her except through the photographs and the things my father and my brother told me. I only remember what happened to my father when he lost her. My brother would speak more about this if he was here because he felt that too, even more after he became a Hashira – the leaf twirled between his fingers while he spoke – Slowly, that enthusiastic, gentle man who raised us turned into a bitter stranger. He started to drink. He spent most of his time in his room, and when he left it, he barely looked at us. Everything he held dear lost its value to him. It was strange, like watching someone you love dying in front of you, while another person takes their place. It was like losing him soon after losing my mother…

Senjuro’s voice cracked a bit in those last words. When you raised your eyes to him, you noticed him sobbing. You didn’t think twice: approaching the boy, you just passed your arms around him, as to assure his right to cry. You looked around, at the weather, and realized the blur in your sight: you were crying yourself too.

You did your best to put yourself together, and waited until your stepson was able to do the same.

– When my mother died, my father changed too – you adjusted yourself in your spot – He never had a problem with drinking or anything like this, but he wasn’t the same man who raised me. He started to isolate himself and making senseless decisions concerning our house, our business and everything else. Half of our staff left us, and even the people of our village noticed we were having problems. Our situation became worse when the stories about Oni started spreading among the common folk, and my father, not knowing how to deal with the financial problems and too proud to seek for help, was about to go insane – you swallowed – I’ve tried to help him, I’ve tried to reason with him, but he wouldn’t let me. He thought it was easier to send me away and stay there, rotting inside that house while demons devastated our lands at night – you felt your lower lip starting to tremble and continued to speak, to avoid a stronger reaction – He abandoned himself, abandoned our people…

At that point you gave up and fell silent, but Senjuro finished the thought for you.

– ...And abandoned you – he glanced at you – No wonder you burned his letter without opening it.

Your heart ached with the memory, but it wasn’t remorse what you felt.

– This is something I don’t regret. As much as I don’t regret defending you from Rengoku-sama. I mean, now I can see that life showed no mercy on him, but treating you like that was terrible and unfair, and the same can be said about my father. Their suffering makes us comprehend them, but it doesn’t excuse their mistakes.

– And what do you think we must do, y/n?

You opened your mouth, but closed it again to think of a sensible response.

It’s strange to tell someone what to do. Is this what’s expected from parents? What a duty to fulfill...

– In your father’s case, I believe we can stay as we are – you spoke slowly – Since we know he’s been enduring so much, we won’t do anything to increase his load. At the same time, we can’t let him cross boundaries and treat us as he wants.

Senjuro seemed to approve the idea, but he still had concerns.

– It makes sense. I’ve been doing this since I can remember, but I still feel guilty. When I see my father in that state, I think I should be doing something for him – he sighed – Sometimes, I think this is what he expects from me, and that’s why he acts so harshly.

That was your time to be concerned. You’ve already noticed that, due to his easygoing nature, Senjuro had a tendency of taking heavy burdens to himself, but you wouldn’t sit and watch him giving in to this inclination and becoming an adult before his natural time just because the real adult was unable to act like one.

– But you already do what you can for him, Senjuro-san. You’re a good and respectful son. You keep your things organized and clean, and don’t mind doing hard work. It doesn’t matter if your father says that out loud or keeps it to himself, I’m sure he knows that.

– Do you think so? – his doubt was genuine; it was clear that he never tried to see things from such perspective.

– Yes – you replied with all the possible firmness – You can continue to act with kindness, but it’s not your duty to fix him. Honestly, even I don’t know if there’s something I can do for Rengoku-sama besides staying out of his way. Yet being too hard on ourselves because of this won’t help us at all.

Senjuro thought of that for a moment.

– It also means that you don’t know what you have to do to help your father?

You moved your head slowly in agreement.

– Yes. It does.

– But don’t you think you can find a way if you talk to him?

You looked away. You clearly weren’t expecting that. Still, you didn’t avoid the question.

– I don’t know. I really don’t know.

***

You could say you’ve worked hard to act according to your own words in the days that followed that conversation. You created a routine that included waking up early and taking time to organize your surroundings just like you used to do in your father’s house, then leaving to the kitchen to prepare breakfast (that was a task that Senjuro took to himself since the cook decided to quit, so having you there to take care of this spared him time and avoided more of his father’s scolding for minor mistakes and waste of ingredients); after that, you would leave with your stepson to your usual training session, and then you took separate ways in your daily activities: while he stood with tasks outside the house, you took the responsibility of cleaning and organizing the interior, thus giving the servants the chance of going back home while the sun was still high in the sky instead of being forced to spend the night there, away from their families; finally, while Senjuro returned to his room to study, you would go to your own to bathe and relax.

It was simple, and it worked for everyone… or so you told yourself every time you remembered that your husband wasn’t included in this perfect scheme. Thing was that, since the incident with the wood sword, he actively avoided you in the rooms and corridors, which didn’t make much to shake your moods – instead, you were relieved with this distance; however, after the day you found the photographs, you were the one mimicking such behavior, and your almost non existent relationship just turned into a sequence of unexpected, embarrassing encounters where opening your mouth to say “good morning” was harder than passing by each other and running away.

There was one day when, to answer the plead of a maid, you had to swallow this embarrassment and replace it with courage: while you were cleaning a room not so far from yours, she confided to you that her payment has been delayed, as well as the other servants’.

– I have some debts I need to pay, and I’ve been trying to gain some time with my creditors, but they’re getting impatient – she explained – In normal circumstances, I would’ve paid everything already, but now I’m really desperate, y/n-sama.

You frowned.

– I see. But how did everything turn out this way?

The girl approached you, as to reveal some shameful secret.

– I know it’s none of my concern, but I’ve seen things in this house, and the other servants, who have been here for longer than me, told me what they’ve saw – she whispered – Since the previous lady’s decease, problems concerning the house’s workers became common. The previous accountant left his position and no one was hired in his place, so the financial responsibility was on the young Senjuro. Of course, he’s an honest boy and did what he could to help, but he’s not a professional, and sometimes mistakes were made. The people who still work here haven’t left yet in consideration for him, and because they really need the jobs. It’s Takumi-san’s case. Last time he tried to reason with Rengoku-sama, he became furious and gave him two choices: to go back to work or to leave and never return – she shrugged – He decided to stay, but only if a solution appears. He’s one of our best workers. If he leaves, things will become even worse for us.

You had to stop for a moment to process the things you’ve just heard. You immediately remembered that young man who had a bottle of sake thrown at him in the corridor.

So, that was the cause of Shinjuro’s outburst. Unbelievable.

The situation at the Rengoku’s house was even worse than your father’s: the servants just gave up on their work and left, except for the few in desperate circumstances, and the whole responsibility over the finances has been tossed at a kid? That time, you couldn’t just ignore it.

– Listen, I… I’m really surprised with this situation, as much as I may seem – you told her, not hiding the shame even though it wasn’t your fault – Senjuro-san never told me anything about this, otherwise I would’ve already done something. I’m... really sorry for this. But now that I’m informed, what can I do to help you?

The maid hesitated. She knew the difficult of what she was going to ask.

– Please, y/n-sama, talk to Rengoku-sama in our name – she bowed her head – We know he has a… complex temper, but he seems to respect you. Maybe there’s a chance of him to listen to you.

Well, if the financial issues were surprising to you, the reasons behind the maid’s request were shocking. The servants thought Shinjuro respected you? That man who barely looked at your direction? What a situation you’ve gotten into… But you couldn’t make it even worse by bringing the maid’s – and the whole staff’s – expectations down by telling her that you were too insecure to speak to your husband about a domestic problem, so you did what in other circumstances you’d never consider possible.

– Don’t worry – you swallowed – I will speak to him as soon as possible.

After an effusive “Thank you”, she left to tell the others about your resolution.

The glow of relief and gratitude in the girl’s eyes soothed part of your anxiety, but solely because you knew you were doing the right thing – it had nothing to do with your task being easy. Truth was that you didn’t even know where you should start: should you look for Shinjuro in his room or to wait until you’d meet him in another part of the house? Was it better to bring the subject right in the beginning of the conversation, or should you warm up until the appropriate moment? And, of course, how was he going to react? That is, you saw what he did to the young man; there was nothing to assure you that he wouldn’t try anything like that toward you.

You finished your work and went out to deliberate. You walked around the house, in and out of the garden, trying to come up with a reasonable solution, but nothing occurred to you. That time you also weren’t going to talk to your stepson: Senjuro would be informed about the situation only after everything was solved, and the same would be in the case of the servants, to avoid a commotion.

I’m really alone in this.

As it used to happen when you were lost in your thoughts, you didn’t realize where your wanderings were taking you to until you stopped and looked around… and recognized the front of Shinjuro’s porch. You froze in your spot, less because of this than because you almost bumped into him on the way.

You startled and covered your mouth to avoid a scream. You stepped back and stood there, staring at the man, who was also surprised to meet you so suddenly in a part of the building you weren’t often seen. But, just like it happened to you now, he seemed to anxious to inquire you.

Somehow you were the first to speak.

– Rengoku-sama… I…

You moved your lips, but no words were found to continue the sentence. Your eyes lowered to his hands, and it was with a sort of relief that you noticed the absence of a bottle. Did the sake finish and he was going to get more, or did he see you approaching and got rid of it before you saw it? You couldn’t tell, but at that moment you recalled your previous encounters with him and realized that, since the conflict at the garden, in each of them, he wasn’t drinking, yet sake was still being bought judging by the bottles you always saw piling up in the kitchen.

Is he avoiding to drink in my presence?

– You wanted to speak to me, y/n? – his voice brought you back to reality; your relief grew when you noticed the composed tone in it.

– Yes. Yes, I… – you hid your hands behind your back – There’s an issue I need to discuss with you.

Shinjuro showed no signs of being bothered by the word issue, unlike you were expecting. Instead, he seemed intrigued: you’ve been doing your things all by yourself since you were brought to his house, and now you wanted to talk to him about something? That was new.

– And what is it?

You breathed deep.

The time is now. What do I have to do?

You glanced behind him and saw his room’s door was open. That gave you an idea.

– Would you mind talking somewhere else? – you shrugged – A private place, maybe?

He didn’t make objections to this, indicating his room and inviting you to follow him.

***

As he sat with his legs crossed, you knelt in front of him, having the door, left open, at your right. Your hands were over your lap, as you waited to see what he was going to do.

By all means, Shinjuro was a practical man, so that fortunately he didn’t let this waiting to extend.

– So, what is it that you need to discuss with me? – he inquired – I suppose it must be too important, for you to seek for me so suddenly.

– In fact – you confirmed; and, taking a deep breath, – But it’s nothing related to myself, actually. It’s about the people who work in here.

You noticed a slight twist on his lips when he heard that, but you gave no time for him to react.

– I was told that the servants are facing struggles with the decreasing in the personnel, and that my stepson was left to take care of the matters despite this – you moved on your spot; your feet, folded under your legs, started causing you discomfort, but you ignored it – I won’t discuss this arrangement, but there are problems that need attention right now and, because I am your wife, I was asked to seek for a solution alongside you.

Unlike you imagined, Shinjuro listened to all of this in silence, and after you finished he kept quiet. No physical or verbal outbursts followed, but if he was measuring what he just heard or trying to control his irritation, you couldn’t tell, and that was worse: with the usual anger and bad moods you could deal with, whether by running away or facing him, but with the absence of them you didn’t know what to expect. You clenched your hands against each other.

Come on, say something. Even if it’s just to call me an intruder. Just odn’t let me without a response.

And, then, Shinjuro gave you a response… and though you didn’t know what you were waiting for, it was different from anything you could’ve expected.

– The servants’ payments are delayed. I know that – he started; no impatience was sensed in his tone, just a sort of boredom – Our accountant left, and no one was able to properly replace him. Senjuro found out about this and asked to do something, and I had no choice. He’s better with paper and ink than with a sword. Besides, having responsibilities would be good for him to grow up.

You made an inhuman effort not to gasp at his justifications. Did he really think leaving that work for a kid was a good idea? But you reminded yourself that you weren’t there to argue, but to fix the problem, so you let him continue.

– Of course, I knew it wouldn’t work forever, and if you came to talk about this, it’s because it needs to change – he sighed – But let me tell you that the payments aren’t delayed for no reason. Things have been difficult for us, and hiring someone to manage finances won’t be cheap. It’s something we can’t deal with it right now. So, what do you suggest? Should I hire a new accountant anyway?

You opened your mouth, then closed it again. You understood that, if Shinjuro wasn’t even trying to hide those problems, they must have become really serious. You also knew that the services of accountants and administrators weren’t cheap, but that wasn’t a good reason to let everything to Senjuro.

I can’t believe I’m going to propose this…

Your husband asked a suggestion, and you ended up offering the only one you could think of.

– Let this task with me, Rengoku-sama – you bowed, leaning your hands on the floor but not touching it with your forehead – I used to do this sort of work while in my father’s house in the times we were on a budget and unable to hire someone for it. I didn’t continue to work on this when the crisis with the Oni started because I was sent here.

He thought of this for a moment… And the response he gave you brought out some unpleasantness, both in his words and the subject.

– Leaving the money in your hands to manage? Y/n, I do believe your father let you work on this, but I can’t help finding it strange that, exactly when your lands were facing the worst crisis in a long time, he decided to send you away instead of keeping you there to take care of everything.

Still with your head bowed, you bit your lip.

Are you calling me an incompetent or what?

Shinjuro was aware of the delicate state in which your relationship with father was, so bringing it to the table right now had no intention but to test you: would you have the necessary stability to take such responsibility? As if he had any right to speak of stability… Well, in spite of that, he was the head of that house, thus having the final word in this matter, so if he decided to decline your offer, he would do it without thinking twice, and then your attempt to help the workers – as well as their trust in you – would drift away.

Alright, start whining and all this conversation will end up useless. I’ll swallow my inflamed ego, then.

You raised your head, ignored the provocation and sent it back to your husband.

– I agree. It’s really strange when you put it that way, Rengoku-sama… – your hands relaxed on your lap – As much as it’s strange that, despite the similar issues in you house which you’ve just addressed, you accepted me as an extra mouth to feed under your roof.

Not so strange when we remember the existence of my dowry, I mean.

If Shinjuro guessed this very thought or if he was not in the mood to continue that discussion, you’d never know, but that was precisely what he did: gave up on arguing and just left it up to you.

He stood up and walked to the porch, indicating that the conversation was over.

– Do as you wish, then. The old accountant’s office is on the other side of the house. It’s easier to access it if you walk around the porch. Senjuro knows exactly where it is. Ask him for help if you need it.

You stared at him for a moment. So everything was solved so easily? Or was it just you who were exaggerating the difficult of your task? It was impossible to know, and you wouldn’t stay there to find out: you just accepted the results and stood up, heading to the exit.

You passed by your husband and bowed again.

– Thank you for accepting my proposal, Rengoku-sama. I’ll do my best.

The only response you had from him was a nod, and you left to find the said office thinking of how strange was that man you married, how tricky it has been for you to understand him and what sort of things were waiting for you in that corner of the house.

[wannaeatramyeon]

Word quantity: high. Word quality: low. You have been warned.

Goo Kim x Reader: School Days with Princess & the Delinquent

Chapter 7 - Please read chapter 1 first!

Index: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Epilogue

Things take a peculiar turn on the first day back after vacation.

Your old friends have long distanced themselves from you after seeing how close you and the unruly blonde have gotten. 

Everyone else avoids you both, worried that Goo has infected you with his delinquency and you will spread it like a virus.

Whatever. It doesn’t bother you.

.

.

The entire school year so far had felt like a fever dream. 

No-one would have paired you, the top student, with a returning juvenile offender. The unlikeliest of friendships that if any fortune teller could have foretold, you would have demanded your money back anyway.

It was a strange thread of fate that had wound itself around you both, a magnetism you couldn’t shake.

You ponder if meeting in person again after the weeks apart would break whatever you had. If the weirdness of your friendship would become too evident and big to overcome.

The doubts crept in for nothing.

You and Goo have kept up to date in a steady stream of calls and messages consisting of memes and nonsense throughout.

Even so, when you come together again, conversation doesn’t dry up. It picks up exactly where you left it.

.

.

However, none of that is peculiar. The peculiarity is this-

Under the layers of his eccentricity and depravity, Goo hides a breathtaking attractiveness.

You’re sure, if you asked him, he would think it would be obvious to even a person without eyes. 

In fact, you would bet your life on it that he will say something ridiculous about how he just has a hot aura. That every single living creature would be able to just tell. 

Maybe some plants too.

And really, it’s a testament to how handsome he is; that even with an attitude and personality as obviously abrasive as his, people can’t help but take notice.

You’re no exception.

Sure, you always knew. Though it was a quiet little hum in the background.

When you see him again, you cannot miss how good looking he is. How pleasing his features are. His attractiveness is screaming at you.

Especially when you’ve had his mug thrusted at you with selfies and video calls on a daily basis. 

Your eyes stray on the first day back and ever since. You take in his tall, powerful frame. His broad shoulders and strong arms. Long legs that walk with a confident stride. 

Like a higher power knew that Goo Kim would be too powerful with just his beauty, so had been punished by being extra obnoxious. 

Because damn him. He really is gorgeous.

.

.

Goo notices you like him back as he sits opposite you in the canteen, stealing bites from your chopsticks.

The way you look at him has changed. You look at him the same way he looks at you.

With a tenderness that makes his heart hurt and his head cloudy. 

With a certain hunger he is unfortunately all too well acquainted with.

Uh oh. 

A frown forms and you tilt your head, catching his erratic change in mood.

This spells trouble.

.

.

If anyone dares to call Goo a wimp, they would be getting a good beating. Might as well throw in a couple of broken limbs too.

It’s not that he doesn’t tell you because he’s scared of you rejecting him. Quite the opposite.

The grand plans are coming to fruition and anything happening will open up a can of worms.

So he swallows down his affection. Pretends he doesn’t notice yours. 

Keeps up the charade of absurd sweet nothings and relaxed caresses that holds more and more meaning to him with each passing day.

.

.

Today you clean his wounds and bandage him up with a sigh.

There’s no point in trying to change someone like Goo Kim. And perhaps you have been dazzled by your proximity to him, and spoilt by his soft spot for you, but you think he’s really not as bad as everyone makes out.

The blood and hysteria is something you willingly turn a blind eye to. Until it gets too much and Goo proves he’s not invincible after all. Then you’re just there with your first aid kit, patching him up with pursed lips and flared nostrils.

“Thanks, Princess,” Goo gives you a toothy grin that melts your frosty demeanour.

Even with his busted lip, you can’t look away.

You want to kiss him.

[yankstrash]

october 13

boston colleges first home game of the season

three days since gabe and amelias third date

and their first kiss

it had been on gabes mind to invite her to the game, but he didn't want to pressure her

there is no pressure.

you've kissed her.

and been out multiple times.

and already have a fourth date planned.

but alas, he did not ask her to come to the game.

so imagine his surprise when he looks up during warm ups and sees her in the stands

he had never done such a hard double take in his life

he saw her.

and she knew he saw her.

amelia was bumped in the ribs by her friend standing next to her

"he sees you." she whispers in her ear

amelia rolls her eyes but can't fight the smile

"i can't believe i let you drag me to this game. he's probably going to think i'm stalking him or something." amelia says

her friend gives her the most 'are you serious?' look she's ever received and says, "stalking him? really?? after what he did to get you to go out with him? showing up at your job until you said yes? i mean don't get me wrong, romantic and honestly hot as hell, but you should not be worried about him thinking you're a stalker, meel. i'm sure he's flattered."

and flattered he was.

gabe couldn't wipe the grin off his face after he saw her

she was at his game.

without him asking her to come.

was she here to see him?

well, who else would she be here to see.

or maybe she wasn't here for anyone at all?

she does like hockey.

ish..

maybe she just wants to support her school

..or maybe she is here to see him...

~

throughout the game, gabe tried his absolute hardest not to look up at her

because everytime he did, his mind wandered and his dopy grin broke out

he just needed to see her.

the game did not start the way bc was hoping for but it sure did end that way with a 4-2 win over long island

as soon as the teams were done shaking hands, gabe was bolting to the locker room

no one even had time to question his sudden burst of speed as he whipped past everyone and raced to his stall

he pulled his phone from his hockey bag

from: gabe

"you should meet me by the locker rooms."

luckily, his text was sent just in time.

amelia and her friends were just standing up to leave when the text came through

immediately, they all knew who it was.

"that was quick!" one of them grinned

amelia bit her lip as her mouth tugged up as she read his message

she looked up to see all her friends smirking at her

"go see him." one of them said, giving her a little shove

"but-"

"GO!"

"GO GO GO!"

"meel you better get your butt down there and see that boy."

she had no choice now.

"go tell him good game and we will see you later."

amelia slowly nodded her head, letting her legs move for her

by herself, she slowly made her way down by the locker rooms

after waiting for a few moments, players finally started to trickle out

her heart sped up as more and more guys filed out

"this is a bad idea. he is going to think i'm so weird." she thought to herself

but really, who is the weird one here? this was basically what he did to her. except only now, no one will be turned away with a rejection.

finally, gabe appeared in her eye sight

and holy hell, he looked good..

so good...

he was dressed in a navy blue plaid suit with a white button down underneath

her mouth opened slightly at the sight of him in his game day outfit

she swallowed, pushing herself off the wall she was leaning on and walking towards him

"what a nice surprise" he says as he reaches her

his arms went around to her back, pulling her in to his chest

"came to see me play?!" he asks, grinning widely

hereee we go.

amelia pulls back a bit and shrugs

"my friends dragged me" she tries to sound casual

"yeah? you didn't come to see me play, hmm? you could just tell me you wanted to see me play." he says

she smiles and playfully rolls her eyes

"it was just a bonus" she says

"mmhmm, sure it was"

she looks up at him and shakes her head

"good game though"

he smiles at her compliment

"thank you. saw you cheering up in the stands"

the grin still hasn't left his face.

she shrugs, "i can get into hockey games when i want to"

"and you wanted to tonight because you came to watch me"

she smacks his chest lightly

"i did not"

"you did too!"

she shakes her head

"you're never going to let this go now are you?" she asks

he slowly shakes his head

"nope.."

they fall silent for a moment

still looking at each other

"so.." gabe breaks the silence "you said i played good?"

amelia nods her head

he smiles, "do i get something for that?"

she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth

"what do you want?"

he grins at her question, lowering his head a bit

"this." he whispers against her lips before connecting them

her hands go to the back of his neck, keeping him close

"that's what i wanted." he pulls back a bit and says

amelias lips tug up in a grin, her eyes meeting his

"i like your suit" she says, rubbing his arm up and down "looks really nice on you"

"you like it?" he asks, smiling

"mmhmm" she hums, nodding her head

"then this is my new favorite game day suit."

[camilasstories]

❝feeling unreciprocated❞ chapter 4 | jungkook x reader

summary: Sleeping with one guy after feeling rejected wasn't a good idea, but sleeping with another one and another seemed to be even worse plan. Especially with your handsome crush behind the wall, who is as confused as you about your ways of coping with a broken heart.

note: I’m sorry for such a short chapter. I just got some messages some of you were waiting for it so here you go!

trailer/masterlist | chapter 3 | next chapter

You got accustomed to your position as a Jungkook's friend. Somehow, it calmed your mind knowing you held any place in, maybe, his heart, which was ridiculous because you barely knew each other. Yet, you found peace in thinking of it like that.

This week passed by pretty fast with you being occupied with your studies and thinking about the project you were soon to present with your partners. It was also sparse in socializing with other people as Gia was preapring for her mock-exams, but especially with Jungkook as he devoted his free time to this new guy - Kim Taehyung whom he met at work. You were used to it, you told yourself and it was true as it was a completely normal state of things between you and him. However, there was this odd felling of uncertainty that manage to weigh you down. Although he mentioned before going out about seeing you later on your traditional movie night, you weren't sure whether his new friendships wouldn't drag him away from you because he was already running late. You couldn't hide the fact it was making you disappointed to the point you got yourself wondering if he even remembered you two were about to meet in your shared living room. Nevertheless, you had too much faith in him to say it out loud.

While you were waiting for him, you checked his instagram. Since you were following Jungkook, you had a full allowance to scroll though his photos and look at his stories he posted from time to time shamelessly without being scared of getting caught in his notifications. Because even if you would have, then it hadn't been seen as something weird or suspicious that you were almost stalking him on his social medias.

When it was half past eight you gave up the idea of waiting for him as thirty minutes already passed and you were one hundred percent sure he wouldn't be anytime soon so you just grabbed your quilt and a pillow to make your way back to your room quite bitter about his actions. He didn't even let you know he wasn't going to come today, which was quite disrespectful, in your opinion, because you were really looking forward to watch a movie with him. To be more precise, just to see him and you didn't ask for too much, right? On the other hand, you could have foresees that such a day would come sooner or later. You should have kicked Jungkook's ass before and met with the guy you slept with in more appropriate circumstances. Maybe you would actually have your love life back and stop daydreaming about this stupid, unreasonable, the most annoying-...

"What? You've finished watching already?"

You gasped agitated hearing the sound of shutting door and male's voice in the foyer. You turned around with bedding cover still in your arms towards the entry of your apartment. It felt like a burden was taken away from your shoulders, a big relief that he didn't ditch you after him having let you know he was actually present and, you hoped, ready to spend the evening with you. You had been so close to the edge in believing he would stood you out and this belief wasn't groundless.

"I haven't even started" you squeezed your quilt even tighter leaning on the wall as you watched him kicking off his shoes.

"Why?" he asked putting away his jacket and leaving his hoodie on with questioning, but cool look visible on his face "Did you pick something, though?"

Taking into consideration that you were busy battling gloomy thoughts in your mind, it was obvious you didn't even touch the remote.

"No, I didn’t" you replied shortly “I thought you wouldn't come, to be honest”.

Jungkook was observing you. There you were standing in a foyer with white material over your chest as you didn’t make it back to your room yet. But he didn’t know why you were not in the living room already watching something on the TV.

"I might have been a little late" he admitted shrugging his shoulders "My phone died, but I grabbed us some things on the way" he showed a see-through bag with colorful packages in it "Am I forgiven?”

"If it's your way to say sorry, then I guess so" you murmured this time with more soft expression on your face.

"Then stop looking so offended" he chuckled reaching his hands to you "Give me this, you're almost drowning" he took the bedding out of your hands and put it back on the couch, while you checked what he had bought.

In general, there were his favourite snacks, but he didn’t think only of himself as you found some crisps and cookies you often ate when you had a bad day. Your heart warmed up at his gesture. But you realized it just wasn’t adding up. Why did he care? Was he just nice? Did he know you overheard him? You sighed and placed the bag on the console in the foyer. The longer you were gazing at it, the more it felt like something was missing in the whole picture. Like everything was on its place, but there was one thing that you couldn't come up with that was lacking. Your forehead wrinkled as your eyebrows raised. You were sure you put them right there. There was no other place in your flat to fit them in.

"Hey, Junkook! Where are the flowers?" you shouted after him still standing in a foyer slightly dumbfounded.

"What flowers?" he stuck his head out after he had stopped searching for his charger.

“The ones that were standing in a foyer” you pointed at the vase with your head after having drawn his attention “Or they used to stand”.

You wondered if he even noticed them in the first place, maybe it was pointless to ask him this, but there were no more people living in this flat, so you presumed might have put them somewhere else. You watched as confusion that was plastered on his face changed into clarity as his expression lit up apparently knowing what you were talking about.

"Ah, right. I've thrown them away" he told casually and made his way to the living room indifferent to his action that managed to baffle you out.

"What? Why?" your squinted your eyes being perplexed "Jungkook, answer me!" you added feeling he didn't listen to you.

"They were dead, I guess" he shrugged his shoulders and took TV remote in his hand looking at the screen “What do you want to watch? Psychological series or comedy?"

"Jungkook!" you watched him in disbelief.

"What? They looked fucking rubbish” he looked at you as you struggled to find words “I’m just telling the truth. They've been withered” he kept convincing you.

You didn't remember them to start to wither, actually. You changed the water in vase almost every day and you even cut their ends one time. It sounded impossible. And rubbish? Okay, maybe it wasn't the prettiest bouquet, but still it was a kind gesture that you appreciated even though it wasn't given by your dream person.

"Did you even think they could have been from somebody?" you folded your arms on your chest while he sat on the couch.

"Were they?" he raised an eyebrow at you waiting for your response.

You sealed your lips immediately muted. You could have spared the information and let these silly flowers go, but obviously you couldn't keep your mouth closed at the right time. Especially when he wasn't supposed to know you were seeing someone. You didn't want to embarrass yourself with the fact it was just one-time thing. It would potentially cross your chances with him. And hooking up was just a way of coping for the time being.

"W-Well..." you stuttered losing the courage feeling the pressure of his gaze "Maybe".

"From whom?" he picked a series since you didn't answer him, but you just shrugged your shoulders not bothering to reply as shame came all over you.

You felt his burning gaze on your back as you sat down on the floor fixing the duvet under your but to make yourself comfortable on the hard ground. Nevertheless, you kept being silent with your blank eyes turned towards TV.

"Not my business, I get it" you heard him fidgeting in his sit and stretching out his legs.

"No, it's just..." you had blurted out before pursing your lips not knowing whether you should speak out "Just a guy, nothing serious".

"You don't have to explain yourself" his immediate answer and him chuckling made you flush even more "Easy there".

"Fine" you sat there for a few minutes not even daring to touch the sweets he had brought with him, somehow losing your appetite as you almost gave yourself away.

"You know you can sit next to me" Jungkook made an offer with his eyes glued to the screen "I don't bite".

In fact, you took Gia's advice to your heart not wanting your feelings to escalate even more, seeing how much it could cost you. Still, you hesitated as you also yearned for his presence, but the damage it could make outweighed the benefits. After your analyzations, you came to one, precious conclusion that it would be healthier for you to leave some free space between you and him. To leave it as it was. To make a safe deal for both of the sides.

"No, no. It's okay" you turned it down knowing what could happen if you let yourself feel more than you allowed to.

Sometimes, saying no to some invitations should be just done. Even to such a dissent one like this. But you had a good head on your shoulders trying not to melt because of his tempting proposition.

"It's not like we've just met, (Y/N)" you almost felt him rolling his eyes at you, but you decided to shrug it off.

Keeping a safe distance between you and Jungkook gave you the sense of control over your absurd feelings and decreased your chances of making embarrassing gaffe in his presence. Although he didn't acknowledge your sympathy towards him, you had to be the one who would be reasonable enough to draw a thick line between both of you, just in case. You had no idea what would happen if any signs of crushing over him came out.

"It's quite comfortable here" you brought your knees closer to your chest which enabled you to rest your chin there "But thanks".

"Yeah, I'm sure of it" he used his sarcasm to deny your silly statement and without giving a hoot he leaned down to slip his hands under your arms.

"What are you doing?" your body became stiff under his firm grip, but instantly it woke up due to the pluck trying to wiggle out from his hold.

"Stop squirming. You're making this difficult" Jungkook groaned silently as he pulled you up from the floor to the cozy couch next to him "And you are not as light as you seem to be".

Actually, when you let yourself feel the intensity of your intimacy after giving up a fight, there came a nice feeling of having him so close to your body. For the first time. Though, you doubted whether he was going through the same thing, you didn't seem to care at the moment completely drowning in a pleasant sensation. He was warm, you felt it only by touching each other with shoulders. And his scent was something else. Fresh, strong and manly. You squeezed yourself deeper into seat back. Fuck, you were melting.

"Comfy, kitten?" he sneered seeing your face expression softening.

Kitten. You gulped down, shaking yourself out. You must have misheard something.

"Not enough" you responded pretending to be serious "You take too much space".

"Better keep your mouth closed or you will get back to that floor" he sighed because of your indication and moved his body to the left side of the sofa "Here, happy?"

As much as you wanted to, you shouldn't, right? Well, avoiding being so close to him to prevent your feelings escalating even more was demanding. In addition, his actions unabled you from doing so. How you were supposed to stay away from him?

“No” you scoffed and started to slide down from the couch to get back to the floor "It was my turn anyway".

"I don't think you're going anywhere farer than this fucking sofa" he grabbed you once again this time placing his hands on your waist as it was easier to lift you up.

"Jungkook, please. Leave-" you couldn't finish your sentence as you felt his hands on your body.

"No way. Get your ass here" he tilted his head amused "You're so irritating sometimes. It must be so tiring, why don't you quit that?"

"Oh, get away" you huffed, but he shrugged it off with a laugh while he put you back next to him "You see me barely once a week, you don't know me" you stated.

"And let's leave it that way" you assumed he made a joke, but you couldn't help feeling a sharp pinning in your chest. He kept mocking "I don't know what's hidden behind this innocent face of yours".

Crush. Random hookup. You name it.

"A lot".

"I imagine" he nodded his head pretending to be serious "How was your week?" the standard question came out of his mouth.

"Uh-Interesting?"

"With your style of living?" he folded his arms not really believing you "What? Were you on some party? Did you went clubbing?" he kept inquiring.

"Yes? I was at..." you stuttered "At..."

"Caleido? Zoid club?" he started to list every place he visited "Because for sure not at Vixen's".

"Well, one of them".

He turned his head towards you while scanning your face as if something was not right with you.

"You are such a bad liar" he said looking straight into your eyes.

"Why do you think I'm lying?" you broke under his intense gaze while gulping down knowing he caught you already. Your heart started to bump strongly in your chest to the point you almost heard it in your ears "Why you don't believe I went clubbing?"

Maybe you were too obvious, too predictable, too… boring to get his attention.

"Because it's just... you".

taglist: @smwhrinthehaze, @betysotelo18

[zodiactalks]

Zodiac Signs CRAZINESS as EXES Ranked from Most to Least

Ending a relationship is never easy, but there are some people who have an easier time doing it than others.

Some exes become your friends while others simply disappear from your life, but every now and then you end up with an ex that's, well, crazy.

How likely are the Zodiac signs to be that crazy ex?

Keep reading to find out!

#1. Scorpio

No one is as crazy of an ex as Scorpio, as they tend to take break-ups personally and have a pretty steep inclination towards revenge.

They're the kind of ex who'll either grow obsessed –keeping tabs on a partner, calling several times a day, 'coincidentally' appearing in places– or the kind of ex who'll make it their personal life mission to spread rumors and lies about their exes.

The best way to avoid this is to let Scorpio be the one that breaks up with you –their egos handle that a lot better– but even then, it's a toss.

#2. Leo

Speaking of hurt egos, Leos also don't take being dumped particularly well, and if they decide to go crazy on a partner, it's going to be hard to miss.

A crazy ex Leo will make sure their ex always hears about what they're doing, as they often struggle with the idea that their exes just don't care.

They'll invent all kinds of rumors just to get under their ex-partner skin, and since they usually have a pretty long list of friends and acquaintances, you can bet they're keeping tabs on whoever they used to date.

#3. Gemini

Geminis are a relatively harmless kind of crazy ex, though, no less toxic.

Their craziness comes in the form of clinginess and dependency, even after the relationship is over.

They'll call their exes when they're feeling down, cry, apologize, share their sad feelings, and in particularly bad cases, they're liable to threaten to hurt themselves just to try to get back to their partners.

Luckily, they're unlikely to do it, but knowing that doesn't make that any less scary.

#4. Virgo

When their heart has been broken, Virgos will put on a strong face and pretend like they're not hurting, while simultaneously plotting for revenge.

They're the kind of crazy ex whose crazy appears to come out from absolutely nowhere: One moment they act like they're taking the break up very well, the next they're paying for a Facebook ad campaign proclaiming how much they hate their ex.

Don't trust their calm exterior.

#5. Pisces

Because they tend to be so sentimental and empathetic, Pisces are unlikely to get violent or destructive when their heart has been broken.

They will, however, let the world know exactly how much they're hurting, and will make it their life's mission to spread their misery as far as it can go.

More often than not, they don't do it on purpose, but there are only so many tearful calls and sad messages people can receive before being done with the pity party.

#6. Cancer

Like Pisces, Cancers are way more likely to turn their crazy inside than outside.

They're not really the kind of crazy ex that will go after their old partner or will plot revenge on 'the other one,' but rather the kind of crazy who'll get drunk and randomly call their ex at 3 am.

A bit pathetic, definitely annoying, yet usually no danger to anyone but themselves.

#7. Capricorn

Capricorn is one of the most easy-going exes out there.

Regardless of whether or not they take their rejection well, they're far more likely to immerse themselves in their job and hobbies than take out their anger and frustration on others.

Of course, these hobbies can take a particularly dark turn from time to time, but as long as they're not taking things too far, it's usually a good way to work on their feelings of rejection and pain.

#8. Libra

Libras are very unlikely to be crazy exes, as acting crazy requires a level of energy and, frankly, emotional endurance that Libras are, unlikely to invest.

Rather than going nuts on their ex, they're far more likely to use that energy trying to improve their life and get over the break-up.

It might take a while, and they might decide they never ever want to see their ex again, but they tend to handle breakups very maturely.

#9. Aquarius

Aquarians will throw themselves head-first into their hobbies and their work, to the point that they'll often forget about the work around them.

They're the kind of ex who seemingly disappear off the face of the earth only to reappear months later with a drastically changed look and dramatically increased, or decreased weight.

They do have a lot of post-breakups crazy, but they tend to direct it all towards the things that keep them from thinking of what happened.

#10. Taurus

Tauruses prefer a clean-cut over a roaring rampage of revenge, regardless of how much they're hurting, or how much the breakup hurt their feelings.

Hell, they might even end up being friends with their exes.

Tauruses value peace and quiet, so they're very unlikely to turn into crazy exes, but don't mistake their easy forgiveness for weakness, as you'll never fool them twice.

#11. Sagittarius

Sagittarians are firm believers in rebound relationships so almost as soon as they end a relationship, they'll be starting another.

Sure, they'll be hurting, and sure, they might even be a little traumatized, but between licking their wounds at home and licking their wounds with a beautiful someone... well, the choice is an easy one.

#12. Aries

Let's face it, more often than not, Aries are the ones dumping their partners, rather than being the ones getting dumped.

Arians are completely unafraid of moving on from a relationship, so if they've decided the relationship is over, they'll simply walk away without another word.

And if they get dumped?

Well, there's a very good chance their explosive temper will translate into plenty of screaming, but once they get it out of their system they'll simply walk away and move on.

[naviculariis]

Okay so. Serious post time. I'm gonna put this entire thing under a cut, but I'm also gonna post some TWs here: medical malpractice, uncertain diagnoses, family trauma / drama, grief, anxiety rambles???

But I am gonna take like. A semi-hiatus, just so I can catch up on what I owe.

I haven't talked about this over here, or on Tumblr in general. Only one person who follows me here knows about this bc we're friends on another platform.

So.

Y'all have noticed, my days don't follow a set schedule. I've been unemployed since my campus suddenly closed with very little warning back in '22. Immediately after that closing, we took a small trip to MS to be with family for Christmas, and that trip was... Bad. And on the 1st of last year, I had an accident- i was taking down Christmas lights and fell and busted open my head. I had an untreated, late diagnosed concussion thar no one really... followed up on, and have had slight memory loss even now from it.

So I couldn't work until my head healed up from that.

But that's not the medical thing. That is my mother. In October 2021, my mother went in for a routine stint placement that resulted in loss of almost total blood flow to her left leg for 36 hours. They almost had to amputate, she almost died on the table twice, she was hospitalized for a year. ( we've tried the legal route, but because the doctor never admitted fault on paper, he cannot be held liable & suing hospitals is... Difficult. Even though she has permanent damage, can no longer feel anything below the knee, and has to wear a brace to walk. ) My mother already had a weak heart to begin with due to years of smoking + cardiac disease. This was the first nail, essentially. This damaged her heart... a lot.

Back to the concussion. 4 days after my concussion, she had a massive heart attack that nearly killed her. She flatlined twice on the table. It was after this that we got confirmation that she is in congestive heart failure. My grandfather died from it. It's

... It's hard. We don't know which stage she's in because her cardiologist won't tell us, but we think she's in stage 2, or maybe 3. We don't know. But because of this, I am the one who takes care of 95% of everything around the house & outside. I do lawncare, I do the planting, I do the garden. She can do a lot, still, but when her heart gets going- it's painful. So I've been her caretaker since 2021 when the initial accident happened.

My grandmother is nearly 90 and has... Many health problems but somehow is also doing better than most folks I know. She's a mystery. And my aunt had a double knee surgery but somethings wrong with her knees, and they think the surgeries rejected, so she can't get around well or drive longer than an hour away. My grandmother no longer drives & isn't renewing her license. My mother can drive, but we don't want her to unless ABSOLUTELY NECESSARY.

So I'm the only one who can drive them around.

I have my own medical issues [ anxiety, depression, type 1 diabetes, cracked tailbone that never got treatment & is giving me hell for that- ]

So. Basically. A lot of my time isn't my time. And when I do have free time, I do try to write and chat as much as I can. At night, after I get mom to bed, I call my partner warner and we get a few hours together and then we have to go to sleep bc we're in a ldr & their timezone is an hour ahead of mine.

... I'm rambling.

It's just. It's hard sometimes. And a lot of the time I sort of sit on my back porch and cry because I'm doing this- physically- alone. Literally everyone else is 4+ hours away across the state. Or 9 hours south on the Gulf Coast, or 7 hours south in Louisiana.

I do try to stay on top of things the best I can, I really really do, but things slip through my fingers. I'm gonna try my best to get all caught up over this coming week, I think. But if my responses are delayed for threads, for discord messages- chances are, I'm busy with one of my lil ol' ladies.

On top of all of this, I live in a town of less than 900, the nearest city is 45 minutes in any direction, and the nearest BIG city is 2+ hours in any direction. Finding a job that isn't in Healthcare is impossible. And I have nothing against those who are in healthcare- I applaud you. But all of my trauma can be tied back to hospital ERs and any time I step foot into a hospital, I immediately have anxiety & can only hear the night we learned about my dad. So I physically cannot force myself to go into that field.

Which is... a whole other thing, this is getting too long. But I've been searching for a job for the past year and a half, have had 5 interviews, each one ended with "thanks for interviewing! However,". It's hard.

So I just.

My plate is a lil bit full. But I love writing. I love the rpc. It'sa comfort and a joy and I love meeting new friends and making new connections and I want to do this as long as I can but sometimes things get a little slow. That's all.

... anyways yeah. Semi hiatus. Cool.

[vampiric-hunger]

≪─ ᴀ ᴍɪɴᴜᴛᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴍɪᴅɴɪɢʜᴛ: ᴄʜ. 3 - ʙᴇʏᴏɴᴅ ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴏʟ ─≫

⋟ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Sebastian LaCroix/f!reader the Ventrue neonate

⋟ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: y/n etc is not used, rating - M, POV second person, arguing, canon-typical violence, hurt/sort of comfort, praise kink.

⋟ 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: From climbing the corporate ladder to being told you need to feast on human blood - this is your new life, Fledgling. The world has changed for you so drastically, you know you will need time to adjust and your new so called "boss" is not making it easy. He's sending you on tasks that feel like they were designed to get you killed. It makes you furious: at Sebastian, at your vampirism, at your lowly position in this brand new society you just stepped into. Still, LaCroix is just the type to get under your skin with ease, and he does it well. Too well. You are not too sure if you can resist his pull.

⋟ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3,265

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i remember being nervous when writing this chapter haha, now i write bigger things than just a slap to the face. anyway, enjoy♡~

⋟ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: [link]

It took you days to sort things out and eventually make it to Elizabeth Dane. You cannot lie even to yourself about it - it was the most difficult thing you had to do, ever, alive or dead. But you managed to do it and gather the information that Prince required. One thing you didn’t do though. You ended up feeling too worked up to check that important email so even when you went to your haven you skipped checking the computer. You know it was irresponsible but what’s done is done. You just hope that the punishment for ignoring the email won’t be too harsh and you absolutely know for a fact that Sebastian will want to punish you for not prioritizing him.

However, now that you returned from Elizabeth Dane you can’t just ignore the email and pretend it will bite you if you touch the computer mouse. First you sleep, then freshen up, put on clean clothes. Your fridge is stocked with blood at last so you take a bag like you would take a morning coffee and sit by the laptop while radio is humming in the kitchen; night show is on again but you pay it no mind.

You hover, you click, you enter your ironic password. ‘Sunrise’ hmpf, it’s like Sebastian wants you dead before even giving you a decent chance to prove your worth. 4 unread messages greet you and two of them from LaCroix. Third message is a dick enlargement pill ad which you smile at. And the last one comes with a title ‘Something to discuss’. You pause thinking which email you should read first - Lacroix’s or a mysterious stranger’s but you decide that Prince requires faster attention.

His first message is about a lost vile of blood, that of a werewolf, you are being asked to retrieve it before it gets tested. Thankfully you’re in time because the email was sent just an hour ago. The other one is the email he sent you on the night you oh so pleasantly felt his lips on yours. Its title is ‘Movie night’ and when you click on it you see a short message: Tell me the time, I’m telling the place - Nocturne Theater. - SL

That’s it, that’s the message. If you could sweat you would be absolutely sweating right now. It’s been almost a week since you saw Sebastian and you only now saw the message that you assume you had to reply to pretty much immediately, the moment you got back to Santa Monica.

“Alright, let’s do this.” You say to yourself out loud, trying to convince yourself that you’re not stressed but you don’t know what to do. Do you set a date and then go meet Sebastian about Elizabeth Dane or do you do that first and then set the date after you report your findings?

You mull over this dilemma for another 20 minutes before you decide. You’ll send an email, then go see him and report like a good little foot soldier that he wants you to be but you only pretend to be, then you’ll meet him later. You just hope that he won’t reject your time because you are not going to be able to check your email before set time which you decide to make today as well. Then again, if Nocturne Theater is closed and nobody lets you in - you’ll have your answer.

It is settled then - you assure yourself and type out the time, click send and stare at your screen feeling like you just went through something worse emotionally than the whole ordeal at Elizabeth Dane. Then your eyes catch emboldened last email that you haven’t read.

‘Something to discuss’

Huh, is that so - you think and click on the message. It reads:

From: a good friend

Message: ask your prissy boyfriend about Jeanette and her love stick. thank me later.

“What the fuck.” You breathe out and reread the message several times. What does Jeanette have to do with LaCroix? And you can very well guess what her love stick means. You already heard rumors about her taste for flesh pleasures and while you cannot blame her for that, her particular tastes are not for you to share.

But does Sebastian have a history with Jeanette? You almost feel like a Brujah when you start feeling jealous before you can get a grip on your emotions. Of course you know that LaCroix lived centuries before you were even born, you know that vampires, yourself included, can use The Blush of Life Discipline to feel human again in all the ways it matters but still, you feel like you and only you are entitled to Sebastian’s most private moments like that, no matter how nonsensical it sounds to your logical mind.

To stop your mind from spiraling, you exit the email and get off the chair, your blood bag left empty on this tiny desk. You’ll think about it when it matters, not right now. In the end, the so called good friend was right - it is something to discuss, something to ask Sebastian about and you already know that rising this kind of question will get LaCroix pissed off beyond belief, but you also have to know. You just have to, because your respect for him depends on it.

How you see him as a man depends on it. But first, you have to deal with that blood vile.

Standing at the Venture Tower once more you find yourself unable to move. The cab dropped you off but you’re still not going in. What’s awaiting you there? You are burning to see Sebastian again, but at the same you are anxious about how the conversation will go. You also not surprisingly find yourself to be angry about several things and have a need to address them. The meeting you’re going to have is on your mind too. You assume LaCroix will act as his normal, usual authoritarian self during this meeting, but what awaits you during the scheduled, more personal one? Will you get punished if you say something out of the line right now? You still have the defiant desire to not give in, to be angry, to be upset, but at the same time you have this pull to submit as well, to do everything he wants you to do so that you can experience again that intimate affection he showed you before. And at this point you don’t know which emotions are yours and which ones are dictated by whatever he did to you that night, when he shared his blood with you.

With a nervous sigh you at last start walking because you realize you stood in front of the Tower long enough for it to be considered suspicious. You go through your usual motions, you flirt with the guard because he amuses you, then you go to the elevator, press the button, get to LaCroix’s Penthouse and knock. A velvety invitation sounds from the inside and you open the door. Sebastian is sitting in his chair seeing no need to stand up to greet you, how typical of him; Sheriff is at his side as usual.

“I presume I have a reason to celebrate?” He smiles and you see his fangs again. Despite being a vampire yourself you feel extremely attracted to the sight of Sebastian like that, a true predator in kine’s skin.

Making him happy is the best drug for you, you realize, at least while you’re standing in front of him and get enchanted by his sole presence. Get a grip - you scold yourself harshly and it actually works. Therefore his charm gets overpowered by your recent experiences on Elizabeth Dane and your irritation by being his errand girl. Not to mention that other burning topic that’s on your mind.

“Yes, I’ve got what you wanted.” You step to his desk and he reaches out with his hand to take the ship log he requested but in a moment of defiance you roughly toss it on his desk. It skids a little over his other documents and stops creating deafening silence. This wipes smile off LaCroix’s face so fast that for a moment you doubt it was there to begin with.

He angrily looks at you but says nothing as he picks up the documents and flips through them in silence. When he’s done he puts them on his desk and leans back in his seat, looking at you. The silence remains and you frown.

“What are you staring at.” You say more than ask, feeling almost like a thug but you want to show him that he cannot charm you with just his smile and Sebastian cocks an angry eyebrow at you.

“I would like to remind you who you are talking to, neonate. For someone who nearly failed the assignment on Elizabeth Dane you’re acting way too full of yourself for your own good.” His voice is calm, calculated, measured. Dangerous. You’re on thin ice and you can feel it in your bones. Yet that infuriates you even more. What right he has to put you down?

“Failed? Failed?” you grind your teeth and inhale. “I didn’t fail, I got your fucking documents right there!” You point at them but LaCroix is looking at you, still calmly, his expression not changing, his hands on the desk with fingers intertwined. Something about him today feels off, usually his thin veneer of politeness slips the moment you disrespect him in any way.

“Yes, you did but there also have been reported three deaths on the ship. I told you, if you would be so kind to remember, that I asked you to not kill. But for someone with a temper of a Brujah I’m not surprised.” Here it is, his smirk.

You realize what’s going on - for some reason he’s trying to provoke you, make you angrier. Why? Is this his way to make you overstep the ultimate line and get Sheriff kill you on spot? Yet your mind is too clouded to think straight and to stop dancing by his tune. You know you’re in danger and you don’t care.

“Don’t patronize me for something you were too scared to do yourself.” You shoot back and you finally see the mask slip, the smile is gone from his face once more but now you see anger as his eyebrows furrow.

“Scared?” Prince’s voice is low, saturated with rising rage. “Why would I need to do anything when I have you do tasks that are bellow me?” he stands up, puts hands in his pockets and turns his back to you. “I’ll remind you that your entire existence depends on me. You keep defying me and being arrogant when all you have to do is listen and obey.”

“I don’t want to obey, let’s make that clear! I didn’t choose this fucking life, okay? I’m tired of running your little errands and doing your little tasks! Surely you have more competent underlings if I’m such a disappointment to you!” You raise your voice against your own wish but your emotions are running high tonight. You wouldn’t consider yourself an angry person but you sure have enough pride to not back down even in front of the Prince.

Sebastian scoffs and turns to look at you, his little annoying smirk back on his lips, infuriating you even more, but you just keep staring at him, waiting for him to say something. Instead of doing that he walks towards you, then stops a little bit to your side, watching your face, watching your eyes specifically. He opens his mouth, inhales to speak but you have a sudden urge to just spill what’s in your head:

“At least I don’t let Jeanette fuck me like a little bitch.” You spit your words like they’re venom, it’s vulgar too and LaCroix’s face freezes.

The moment stretches painfully long but it can’t be more than half a second before Sebastian backhands you so hard across the face that you stumble backwards and fold to your knees. Everything spins as you reach to your cheek and taste blood in your mouth. When your vision stops swimming you glance at LaCroix from under your eyebrows and see him fixing his tie, your blood on his knuckles. He exhales, watching you with all the vampiric pride in the world.

“I told you to be careful about how you speak to me.” He remarks and glances at his knuckles then takes out a white napkin and starts wiping them. “If I have to put you in your place like a rabid dog - I will. But only for so long, Childe. You either will learn to obey or you will be... dealt with.” He finishes and you know exactly what this means.

“Fine.” You grunt and lick blood off your bottom lip, then stand up grabbing Sebastian’s desk for support.

When you straighten out and look at him again Sebastian tilts his head to the side like he’s seeing something on your face, then proceeds to come closer. With the same napkin he cleaned his hand, he reaches out and starts rubbing your throbbing cheek. The pain is already going away, but when he presses the napkin against your skin your face still feels on fire. You don’t move or acknowledge his touch, staring at him bitterly.

“Oh don’t sulk now, you knew what will happen if you don’t measure your words.” He says calmly with his gaze on your cheek and not your eyes. “Are you jealous?” the question is more silent than his usual tone and you turn your eyes away from him, not wanting to answer. “Are you jealous because I possibly had a liaison with the Voerman girl?”

“No, why would I be.” You answer silently, you feel the napkin leave your cheek.

“Interesting, here I thought you would.” You can actually hear a smile in his voice even though you don’t see Sebastian’s face. “But-” you hear him put the napkin in his pocket. ”-to put your mind at ease, I can assure you that no, I have never had any personal relations with either of the Voerman sisters. I work with Therese, I saw Jeanette once. Neither of them are very interesting to me, truth to be told. And trusting anything Jeanette says is sometimes funny, but mostly dangerous. Malkavians are a strange breed, they like to... exaggerate or even lie.” A sound of Sebastian brushing his shoulders from dust. “Are you satisfied?”

“Why would I care.” You murmur not wanting to continue this conversation.

You’re still mad about being hit, sore in ways that are not physical and you realize how dumb it was for you to even bring up the Jeanette rumor, you shouldn’t care, you’re just a pawn to Prince anyway. You feel like crawling back into your bed and sleeping for three days straight.

“Childe, look at me.” A soft tone, softer than you ever heard Sebastian sound like and the pull of your new title makes you do as he wishes.

You turn your face to him and almost feel like crying, which is surprising because you were always good at hiding your emotions. Your position at the company required you to do so, but somehow Sebastian manages to pull the most vulnerable you out in the open. He immediately can see that you’re hurt and he sighs.

“Come on now, you’re better than this. You’re a ventrue after all.” The words do not sound comforting at all.

“Yes, I know.” You say in a whisper and try your best not to start crying. You can’t even articulate in your own mind how bad it would be if you started crying right now.

“Don’t let anyone see you so vulnerable, Childe. You can share your weaknesses only with those you trust.” Sebastian’s voice is almost comforting, you don’t know how to deal with this side of him. Does he feel bad for hitting you? It absolutely sounds like he does but it’s also like he cannot say or show it because there’s Sheriff there, seeing and hearing everything.

“It’s fine, I deserved that for disrespecting you.” You respond and you mean it.

You regret it and you wonder what happened to you that you cannot even bring up a simple rumor anymore without sounding like uneducated mongrel. You feel like you needed to be snapped out of whatever head-space you found yourself in just moments ago, and while getting hit isn’t what you would otherwise prefer you also know that in moments of anger Sebastian is not a man of words. You know that you are like that too, so you find it difficult within yourself to blame him or judge him. Physical retaliation to disrespect in circles you were moving is more common than people think.

“You do. But I know you’ll learn from this. I like my subjects tame, more obedient.” Last word drips off his lips syrup-like. What is he implying here? But you dare not to look at him, trying to calm your emotions before they spill again. “There there now.” Sebastian says patiently and you realize he took your silence as shock.

You feel his fingers on your chin, turning your face to him again, the trusty napkin once more out of his pocket and on your skin, wiping what you assume to be last bits of blood from the hit you received. You don’t look at him while he does that and when he’s done, LaCroix softly steps back withdrawing his fingers. You notice that the napkin is quite dirty with your blood.

“I’ll clean that for you.” You begin and reach out for it but he very casually yet quickly folds it and stuffs it in his jacket pocket.

“That’s alright.” He reassures you and you sigh, feeling exhausted and not willing to fight him anymore.

“Since I’m done with Elizabeth Dane, what else do you need me to do?” You ask, not looking Prince in the eyes but somewhere towards the middle of his tie, you’re too tired to even show your pride.

“You already have a task.” He replies somewhat curiously, like he’s mildly surprised you have forgotten. Forgotten what? You rack your brain trying to remember. It suddenly clicks and you hope you’re correct.

“M-movie night?” You attempt, stumbling over your letters because the assumption that he still wants to meet you privately after all of this is incomprehensible in this moment.

Sebastian smiles the most wonderful fangy smile that almost literally invigorates you on the spot.

“That’s my good girl.” He says and suddenly you feel like you could float off the floor. God his words have more power over you than you dare to admit. “Yes. I read the email. I’ll be there.”

With that he turns from you and walks back to his side of the desk, glancing at the ship log still lying askew on his papers.

“You can go now.” His voice is casual but you don’t care, you now know exactly why he’s acting the way he is. Without a nod or a word you leave and when you hear his Penthouse Office door close behind you you inhale, then very slowly exhale.

This man is messing with your head so badly and you know it. But you are sure of one thing - you will absolutely make things clear with Sebastian at Nocturne Theater one way or another.

[beemynumberone]

All The Colours (4/7)

-> In which Idol!Minghao and Actress!OC convey their heartfelt messages through colours.

-> slowwwwburn romance. friends to lovers. no smut.

-> constructive feedback is always appreciated!

All pictures are from Pinterest, I do not own them.

Writer’s note: Hi! I am writing these scenarios to placate my active imagination and hopefully make someone’s day/night. I do not intend to hurt anyone/anything through this fic.

Thank you for picking up my story and happy reading!

Masterlist

*btw, Yile is pronounced as Yi Le (in Chinese pronunciation), it is not supposed to rhyme with Kyle

Part 4: Green

Yile’s POV:

Life was getting more consistent. Yile would wake up, have breakfast and a cup of coffee, attend casting calls, work meetings and look through scripts. After all that, she would gym, go grocery shopping, talk with Xinhui and do a rigorous skincare regime. Maybe squeeze in journaling if she felt like it. She loved feeling productive.

She sighed for the nth time that day.

“Boy problems?” Xinhui questioned.

Yile sighed in response. “I don’t know what to do Xinhui! Minghao asked to be friends two days ago. I’m still not sure what to tell him.”

“Why though?”

“Because I’m afraid that people would misunderstand! He’s a K-pop idol for goodness sake! Everyone knows that some fans, no matter how understanding, would turn their backs if they knew that their oppa had a female friend.”

“Seventeen has plenty of female friends though?”

“Yea I know. The other problem is, I might like him a tiny bit more than just friends. I don’t know if I can handle being just friends with him. I don’t wanna ruin things you know. I want to be honest with him from the start and not lead him on.”

“How noble of you.” Xinhui commented wryly.

Now that Minghao had made the first move, he had gained an extra point in Yile’s book. His confidence was appealing. During the events, Yile became more and more certain of her feelings for him. Whenever she caught him staring at her in the events with the most ridiculous puppy eyes, her heart strained to stay still. Even as she was mingling around, his eyes were still glued to her. This was all so heart-wrenching and tiring and painful.

“What should I do Xinhui” Yile was ready to pull her hair out in frustration.

Minghao’s POV:

During his break, Minghao was anxiously scrolling on social media. Why hadn’t Yile replied to his message? It had been two days. Alright, it was only two days. But TWO days?? Were people this indecisive in accepting a friendship?

Vernon sauntered over to him. “Whatcha thinking? You look constipated.”

“Just waiting for a reply.” Minghao sighed.

“From the girl you told me about yesterday?”

Minghao nodded. Vernon brows knit together in deep thought.

“Since you gave her two possible answers, could it be that her reply isn’t any of them?” Vernon offered.

A lightbulb went off in Minghao’s mind. His friend was a genius. But why would she have a different answer than yes and no? He asked his friend so.

”Maybe she wants something more than friends?”

Or something less than friends, Minghao thought sadly.

“Hoi, don’t think so lowly of yourself Minghao!”, Vernon spoke. “Nobody in their right minds would reject your offer. I can say from firsthand experience that you are a really good friend and that anyone who thinks otherwise is well, dumb.” Minghao smiled at his friend’s passion. “Thanks for encouraging me.” “Anytime man.”

As they went back to filming, Minghao’s phone pinged.

Yile’s POV:

“I can do this. I will do this. I am doing this.” Yile said under her breath. Her fans on Instagram were also awaiting updates on what she was doing so this wouldn’t be too “out of character”.

@Wangstergram posted:

caption: What if today, we were just grateful for everything? - Charlie Brown 😊🍀

[canichangemyblogname]

I heard something absolutely baffling this morning on BBC's Newshour. After interviewing Dr. Ghassan Abu-Sittah, a surgeon at Al-Ahli Arab Hospital, Nuala McGovern interviewed Israeli Lt. Col. Jonathan Conricus on the Israeli State's Intelligence.

The Lt. Col. got on air and essentially argued that Hamas was supplying Palestinian hospitals *because* they do not care about Palestinian life and that Hamas' "game" is world-wide empathy for the Palestinian people and outrage over their treatment. His message: the other side is worse than us. Rather than citing Hamas' authoritarian rule and dictatorial treatment of Palestinians, including torture, to back up this argument (which would be the logical thing to do), he instead parroted the argument that Hamas is worse than Israel *because* Hamas could also be giving the hospitals fuel, but they're not (even though they had been according to the Israeli state), ignoring completely that the hospitals would not be in this situation if not for Israel's bombing campaign. This same man went onto CNN and said the situation at al-Shifa is "the unfortunate results of Hamas' choices," essentially admitting that the siege on these hospitals-- civilian infrastructure with medical personnel and wounded civilians inside-- is punishment for Hamas' actions on October 7.

CW: Audio depiction of fatal wounds and painful medical procedures. An Israeli Military Official denying Israeli responsibility and culpability in the conditions in Gaza, and dodging questions. TW: Use of skeptical language like "reportedly" in regards to Palestinian death figures and "accused" for statements issued against the Israeli state, but using more dictative language like "said" for statements made by the Israeli state.

Partial transcript below:

McGovern: "And why not release that evidence? Because you can see and hear the pressure that Israel is under for these attacks on places like al-Shifa. Why not let the world know what you know?" Conricus: "Well, maybe we will, but-- y'know-- I've been listening in on the conversation here. The previous guest recording spoke-- eh-- a lot, but never mentioned-- eh-- really addressed the elephant in the strip: Hamas. Hamas governs the Gaza strip. Hamas runs the Gaza Strip. Hamas told the people; the administrator of the Shifa Hospital not to accept the fuel; the 300 liters that we provided--" McGovern: "But--" Conricus: "Hamas is the one preventing civilians from leaving--" [ 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 ] McGovern: "Let's talk, let's talk about--" Conricus: "Hamas is the one who builds infrastructure there-" McGovern: "Lets talk about the specifics of the 300 liters of fuel-- eh-- which Israel says it was delivering to al-Shifa Hospital in Gaza. Ehm... they say they need 8,000 liters of fuel, that that request was rejected by Israel, and that 300 would only fuel a generator for about half an hour. You're hearing from doctor Sittah there about what he is going through on a day-to-day basis, with women not able to get cesarians, with only two operating theaters-- eh-- that are actually functioning, never mind no anesthetic, for example. Umm... 300 liters it--it's not even a token gesture." Conricus: "Well, it is actually much more than what Hamas are doing. And, and let's set the record straight here: we called on the people, including the Shifa Hospital and everybody else, in Northern Gaza to evacuate, and we did that more than two and a half weeks ago." [ 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 ] "Since then, we have consistently called and informed everybody there that it is dangerous-- eh-- to be in Northern Gaza because we're doing-- we're going to conduct major combat operations. Let me, please let me finish. And in addition to that-- y'know-- Hamas has been stockpiling fuel, and they've been letting out, basically, rantioning [sic]-- eh-- rationing fu-fuel to the hospitals because they want to achieve exactly what is happening now. They want you and the rest of the world to be outraged at the sorry, horrible scenes of-- eh-- babies that cannot live or are in the threat of dying because of a lack of electricity. That is the Hamas game, here. That is exactly what they want to achieve. They want this outrage because this is their plan and they have absolutely no regard for Palestinian life." *emphasis and context/fact-check links mine

Also see: If Hamas is the government of Gaza, then Israel is not conducting a counterterrorism campaign. If Hamas has the legitimacy of a governing body, then Israel must observe the rules of engagement. And if Hamas is the governing body of gaza, then they, too, have a right to defend their borders and have a right to take Israel to the ICC. (a.k.a. This is not the argument they "want" to be making to the international community.)

[fluff-foraxil]

Until the end (Doflamingo x F!Reader) - 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 5

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - . - Chapter 6

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Doflamingo wants something, he gets it.

Days had passed since he found himself alone with (Y/N), the bite mark on his arm was healing, the dark red scabs a reminder of that private encounter and the girl was avoiding him more actively now apart from sending his nasty looks whenever he was too close or stared at her for too long.

Even though Doflamingo openly told her about wanting to know her better and being rejected, he went looking for answers and with Vergo in the Marine, they came to him quickly.

A folder was on his desk the morning after he contacted his undercover subordinate. The bold letter on it spelt her name: (Y/N) (L/N).

Doflamingo got himself a bottle of liquor, took off his red tinted glasses and got comfortable on the armchair, ready to discover whatever secret his little birdie was hiding from him.

First was a file with a picture of a younger (Y/N) and her personal details.

Name: (Y/N) (L/N)

Age: 26

He chuckled upon learning that she was merely two years younger than him.

Gender: Female

Blood type: (Y/Bt)

Date of Birth: (Y/DoB)

Place of birth: Pyua

«Pyua?», he repeated out loud.

The name sounded familiar, but it didn't ring any bell.

He didn't read the rest and skipped to the second page: appearance, distinguishing marks, relationships.

Family: parents deceased in Pyua's war*

The asterisk was written by hand, that didn't go unnoticed by the man.

«Would you look at that? Little birdie is an orphan», a separate paper fell out of the folder he was holding.

Picking it up he easily recognized Vergo's handwriting, an asterisk was written on the top corner, big enough to be seen. The subordinate also found information about the girl's parents and the war that broke out on the island years before; he stapled together three sheets of paper which contained the information.

Doflamingo licked his lips, excited, thankful for the meticulous man.

Forgetting about (Y/N)'s personal folder for a bit, he dived in the separate stack of paper. He stared at the pictures of the married couple, (Y/N) had the same eye colour of her mother, even though their shape was more like her father's eyes; her hair was a lighter colour than her father's, while her nose and lips were definitely like her mother's.

Her parents weren't of interest, good civilian, never got into trouble. Boring and plain in Doflamingo's opinion, so he skipped to the third sheet and found information about the war.

It wasn't anything unusual, an enemy nation that wanted to expand their domains attacked the island after their king refused to give up his throne, as he was briefly reading through the file, he took his time examining each photo and that's when his eyes caught something. It was a photo of the soldiers feasting for their victory while, in the background, dead bodies and people in chains were surrounding them; a child, probably 10 years old or so, was sitting among the prisoners.

Doflamingo took (Y/N)'s photo from her personal file and compared it with the child on the other photo.

«Bingo», he smiled.

However, there must have been something else to it.

Lots of people had been sold as slaves, but that rage that she held in her eyes was something else, not the anger from a simple slave.

His smile dropped as a memory rose to the surface, a memory of his past.

Her eyes were the same as theirs.

Those filthy commoners that tried to kill him because of his lineage.

Letting a hand cover his eyes, a laugh started to escape his lips, getting louder and louder. If she really had been a slave of the Celestial Dragons or not, it didn't matter, she was going to stay whether she liked it or not.

He had found out enough, so he called Machvise in and asked him to deliver a message to (Y/N).

The girl was playing with the children when the large man approached her.

«The Young Master wants to see you tonight, after putting the children to sleep-in», he simply told her before going back to minding his own business.

Law briefly lifted his gaze from the book he was reading at peeked at (Y/N)'s confused expression.

"What does that prick want now?", her thoughts swimming around, thinking the worst was going to happen.

The day passed by painfully quick for (Y/N), in a blink of an eye she found herself standing in the hallway after putting the children to sleep. She wasn't ready to face Doflamingo, his behaviour always confused her, she never knew what to say or do to hurt his ego like she wanted to.

Walking slowly, she made her way to his chambers, she took her time not wanting him to think she was enraptured by being called in.

She was about to knock when his voice came from the other side.

«Come in», his voice was calm.

"That's a good sign, I hope", opening the door, she stepped in the room.

«You wanted to see me?», she stood near the now closed door, not wanting to step closer to him.

Doflamingo was sitting on a couch in front of a big window that let the light of the moon in; his legs crossed, arms laying on the back of the sofa and usual smirk giving him a creepier look.

«Ah, birdie, what a pleasure», he smiled.

"I'm fucked", she thought.

«How have you been?», he was acting weird.

"Oh, I'm double fucked", she was too stunned to speak so Doflamingo took the lead.

«Please, have a seat», he offered gesturing to the other couch in front of him.

Taking cautious steps towards him, she kept her eyes on him as she sat down. She knew something was off but decided to give him the benefit of the doubt; Doflamingo chuckled assuring her that he wasn't going to bite her.

«Oh really? Last time I checked you do», rolling her eyes she was starting to regret coming.

«I found something interesting», he calmly said while opening the folder he received that morning, «I'm sure you'll find it interesting as well».

(Y/N) looked down, why was he beating around the bush like that? It wasn't like him to do so; he was usually straightforward with everything.

«What's that?», she perked up at the sight of the sheets of paper.

Doflamingo looked through some of them before closing the folder.

«Oh, just something I thought you would like», he chuckled holding it up so she could read her own name on the cover.

«How did you get it?», she gulped.

He smiled letting her question unanswered.

«I've to admit that you surprised me», he didn't let her talk, «A little girl who survived a war, became a slave then started going around and now is here».

(Y/N)'s skin turned white as a ghost, hands starting to shake.

«I told you to mind your business», voice shaky as she tried to keep calm.

Many people before, during and after her had been sold as slaves, but the shame she felt once she was free and back in her hometown made her want to hide it all under the rug. People didn't have to know about her past, it was hers, not theirs. If she didn't want to talk about it, why would they? It was hers to rewind in her mind and relive.

Memories bubbled up.

«(Y/N)...», Doflamingo voice put her back to earth.

She kept quiet, mouth too dry to get a sound out.

He was smiling.

Ba-dump

Her heart felt like it was going to explode.

«Who bought you?», he got closer.

Her gaze glued to her hands in her lap.

Ba-dump

«Did they do something to you?».

She could feel his soft breath on her skin.

His perfume was intoxicating as it filled her nose.

Ba-dump

«Don't touch me!», she tried to push him away.

Her breath was erratic.

Drops of sweat running down her face.

They were staring at each other, the light of the lamp illuminating them with a warm glow. Doflamingo was now sitting beside her as her hands were on his chest, trying to keep him distant.

«Such a pretty thing», he smirked while caressing her cheek, «I bet your buyer spent a fortune just to have you. I wouldn't blame them».

(Y/N) felt violated.

She just wanted to be left alone.

«A thing?», her hands ready to wrap themselves around his neck, «I'm not a thing anymore».

Moving as fast as she possibly could, she jumped on him. Doflamingo wasn't worried, he let her hands come in contact with his skin without letting her clutch it, his string keeping her from closing her hands.

«Let me go», a rage that had been suppressed for too long threatening to come out.

She breathed heavily.

"Show me your anger, bridie, show it to me", Doflamingo knew he was almost there.

«I bet you'd look so good with a collar around your neck», his hand meeting her skin, imagining a cold chain around it.

An unexpected reaction came from (Y/N); she chuckled as her eyes became empty, a smile on her face.

«Why don't you ask how good I looked to the Celestial Dragons in Mary Geoise? Huh, Heavenly Yaksha?», she took him by surprise.

Doflamingo's smile faltered a bit as he listened to each word.

The name Mary Geoise brought back unpleasant memories and so much anger.

«Show me», his tone maniacal.

The girl wasn't moving, keeping her ferocious gaze on him. His patience was running low; the air was knocked out of (Y/N)'s lungs as he hugged her as close as possible while his hand gripped the back of her shirt.

«Is this what you wanted to hide from me?», he tugged the fabric, not ripping it yet.

«Too bad», he chuckled, «I always get what I want».

The ripping sound was much louder for (Y/N), reverberating in her ears.

Doflamingo was tracing the symbol of the Hoof of the Flying Dragon with his fingers, his touch felt so weirdly soft on her skin. He remembers seeing other World Nobles brand slaves with it when he was younger; inside his tricky mind he was thinking that such thing wasn't a coincidence, meeting her and taking her in wasn't. The universe sent Doflamingo something that was his by birth, after all the royal blood of the Celestial Dragons ran through his veins.

The only sound in the room was their steady breathing as Doflamingo stared down at the girl, her eyes closed as she let his fingers run up and down her back admiring the defined scar on it. Her lips slightly parted, wanting to say something but not being able to.

Those luscious lips that he wanted to feel so badly on his were looking so tempting in that moment, more than once was he fantasising about fucking her while he had another woman under him. She didn't know about his little fantasies, but he knew about hers; it happened a few times that he walked past her room and heard her soft moaning, he heard her calling his name once or twice which made him smirk, satisfied.

(Y/N) wasn't putting up a fight, the cat was out of the bag and Doflamingo didn't seem to treat her badly, like others did after they saw her scar. For the first time, she didn't feel ashamed.

«Are you happy now?», she asked.

«More than ever», taking her in his arms he felt a strange feeling in his chest.

It was a warm and soothing sensation.

It was a foreign sensation to Doflamingo.

He could feel (Y/N)'s heartbeat. She wasn't scared nor agitated as she was now looking at him, her cheeks dusted in pink now that she was being held almost lovingly by the man.

«Never betray me, (Y/N)», he sounded serious.

No trace of his mocking smile.

She was taken aback by that simple statement.

«I won't», staring at his lenses while their faces got closer.

«You better keep your promise», his voice almost a whisper, «It would break my heart to kill you».

Forcefully connecting their lips, he gripped her hair to keep her in place.

A shock of ecstasy ran down (Y/N)'s back, his lips on hers felt better than she imagined. She gripped his shirt as her eyes closed, enjoying that foreign form of affection.

Doflamingo felt like he reached heaven in that moment. He separated from her briefly, his tongue drawing a line from her chin to the corner of her mouth before biting her lower lip, making blood come out so he could lick it up and share its metallic taste with the girl. (Y/N) let the man do whatever he wanted, returning the kiss as she felt his tongue sneak past her lips and into her mouth.

The taste of blood and liquor made her head spin.

He was a dangerous man; she knew it well but something inside of her was telling her to stay by his side, he was different, he wasn't shaming her for being a slave to those bratty nobles.

He understood her anger and pain.

«Tomorrow, we'll cover that ugly mark of yours», he said feeling a sudden spark of anger thinking about those filthy Nobles marking her skin.

He should've been the only one to leave a mark on her, so he was going to take care of it.

(Y/N) nodded, happiness filled her heart at the thought of it. Only slaves who were marked with the Hoof of the Flying Dragon knew the pain of bearing such thing, the moment you had it on you, you weren't seen as a human anymore but only a propriety of the World Nobles.

Doflamingo kept his word.

The next day she was sitting on the chair of a tattoo artist who was carefully tracing over her scar with the black ink, the needles piercing her skin weren't bothering her, the previously burnt skin was almost completely numb to pain. The circle became the Jolly Roger of the Donquixote Family, the claws were hidden under a circular dripping pattern surrounding it; Doflamingo wanted his symbol on her while the rest was decided by (Y/N), who initially was against having the pirate's Jolly Roger tattooed on her.

«Done», the tattooist declared before applying a soothing cream and clear wrap on the tattoo.

(Y/N) got up to admire the excellent job the girl made, the only thing that gave away the fact that she had a burn scar was the darker skin tone under the logo of the Donquixote Family.

«Thank you for your service», Doflamingo said calmly before the head of the tattooist fell to the ground.

«Why would you do that?», shock was all over (Y/N)'s face as she stared at the widening pool of blood.

«You wouldn't want someone else to know you were a pet for the World Nobles, would you?», he chuckled as she shook her head.

Walking back to the headquarters, (Y/N) was jubilant to finally be able to show her back without fear of judgment. It was like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

She would be forever grateful to Doflamingo, he freed her from a heavy burden.

«(Y/N)! You're back!», Buffalo got up and greeted her.

The girl waved at the children and walked up to them, opening her arms as they jumped on her.

«Hi kids», she greeted hugging the kids.

Law was standing back, happy enough with just saying hi.

«Wow! That's a really cool tattoo», Dellinger observed.

(Y/N) grinned joyfully at the boy and patted his head thanking him.

Rosinante who was just walking by, stopped, and was astonished by the sight of his brother's Jolly Roger on her skin. His senses telling him something was going to happen, if Doflamingo got her to tattoo his symbol on her than he must have saw something in her since he wouldn't accept just everyone into his crew; Rosinante had an urge to understand why his older brother wanted her with him.

That night, he called his superior, Sengoku, asking him if he knew about someone called (Y/N) (L/N). The marine shuffled through some documents before answering him, but from the information he received nothing was dissipating his doubts; until Sengoku arrived at the part regarding the Pyua's war and her parents dying during it, and how there was an empty span of seven years where there was no information about her, like she went missing and then got back. Rosinante wasn't dumb, he put two and two together and understood something might have happened to her, something that draw Doflamingo to her.

The undercover marine was already trying to keep children away from his unstable brother, but children were easy to scare away, an adult wasn't. Rosinante tried his best to come up with something but decided to wait for the right moment to try and make a move.

[aviculor]

Halloween Ends made a very bold move by taking all the franchise's driving questions- Michael's motivations and his thoughts and why he never speaks and why he keeps returning to Haddonfield- and saying none of them mattered. He was just some random guy who was good at murder. There will be more random guys who are good at murder, and this one was not special. Putting him on a pedestal only disrespects the survivors of his violence and the families of his victims.

And that's all well and good and giving a strong moral indictment against True Crime. But what I didn't like was demonstrating this by making Michael a side character in his own movie, devoting 3/4 of the runtime to another random murder guy's start of darkness. After everything we saw Michael do and endure and walk away from in 2018 and Kills, in Ends he's been reduced to a frail old man who needs an accomplice in order to kill people. You might say that all his injuries and his age finally caught up with him, but that's not a very enticing narrative. Laurie being resigned for a mutual kill and Allyson saying "fuck that" and saving her and helping her finish off Michael because they're family and they love eachother and Laurie's not alone anymore- that's compelling. There should have been more of that.

But I can't even criticize the thematic direction they went in, because what kind of asspull would they have done otherwise? Do you think they would have revealed that he was supernatural all along? Would you have wanted him to suddenly start talking? No, having him finally go down and then destroying his corpse in such a ridiculous display of overkill that it almost comes off as paranoid and hollow is pretty much the only way they could have ended the trilogy. The issue I have is with the execution, that they devoted so much of the runtime to the parable they were teaching where it was almost exclusively about this entirely new character who was never seen or heard of before now. This random guy who became Laurie's friend and Allyson's boyfriend and the only person Michael ever connected with. Doctor Samuel Loomis rolling in his grave over that one.

But speaking of that though, an idea I had after watching Kills was that Michael "The Boogeyman" "The Shape" Myers should have been depicted as a product of his imprisonment if they were really spinning Halloween into having a social message. Think about it: a kid raised from age 6 in a mental hospital, treated as a depraved killer instead of a child. His birthday is October 19th, he turned 6 not even 2 weeks before that day. He was barely out of being a toddler. He basically had his first coherent thought last week. It's entirely plausible he stabbed Judith because he was imitating what he saw in a scary movie as a Funny Halloween Thing because it's Halloween, not even marginally understanding the ramifications. His parents only appear in the cold open of the original film and are never mentioned anywhere in the new trilogy. As far as we can tell, they abandoned him and the only person Michael had since his incarceration was Dr. Loomis. His psychiatrist. Who gave up and wrote him off as irredeemably evil and better off dead when he was fourteen. The fact that I went into Ends having already thought about all this, it made a few gears turn while watching Corey go down his slippery slope. The whole idea with Corey was that after what happened- a death that he was unwittingly responsible for- he was rejected by the people of Haddonfield. He lost the support of his community. He was never allowed to atone or heal, only to have his life become an unending reminder of the pain and guilt. There was no hope of forgiveness or rehabilitation because the people around him wouldn't allow it. To make a long story short, he turned into the monster they saw him as, and in doing so he became a second Michael Myers. He literally put on the mask and everything. So there's an argument to be made that the road we watched Corey go down actually was supposed to parallel the one Michael went down. Which would not only support but canonize my hot take.

The theme of the trilogy- especially Ends- was about healing from past trauma. About community. About family. About moving forward into the future. When you think about it, Michael is someone who was denied all of that since the age he started using the potty like a big boy. If you ascribe to my theory, then the filmmakers did explain Michael. It would actually explain everything. He resents the town that threw him away. He mourns the ordinary life that was stolen from him. He sees everyone else as unworthy of the peace and happiness and kinship that he was denied. He spares those who he sees himself in, who have also been cast aside (children whose parents left them with babysitters, adult Laurie at first, Corey). He knows no one legitimately cares about him or what he has to say, so he doesn't bother saying anything. He gave up on society because society gave up on him first. That's who Michael Myers is.

But the truth, as I mentioned in the beginning, is that even with this grand manifesto he keeps to himself, he's not unique. He's not the first, only, or last person to feel this way. Laurie might have recognized the darkness when writing her memoir, but she never thought about where it came from. As long as the concept of a happy, idyllic suburb exists and as long as upholding that ideal is treated as more sacred than the actual people who live there, there will always be those who get shunned and isolated. There will always be those who don't get love and support when they need it most. There will always be those staring out at the rest of the town through a window. There will always be those who the townsfolk would toss into an industrial shredder after they die just to celebrate them finally being gone.

That's the secret meaning behind Halloween Ends.

[sumi-sprite]

Number 4 for the Choose Violence ask game

4. what was the last straw that made you finally block that annoying person?

Oof. It was actually two people on the same day. Extremely recently, like, maybe three days ago?

First was someone I have blocked before but un-blocked after a while because it wasn't like they were mean or anything, just wouldn't fucking leave me alone about updates on one of my fics for about FIVE YEARS. Dude, I already warned you and others about not fucking bugging me about that shit, I don't care if it was five years ago, I don't care we talk like, once a month or something (we weren't even friends wtf) the rule still applies you. You would think the NUMEROUS PSAs, PMs, updates on my life being too busy for fic stuff, etc would have been enough (again, over the course of FIVE YEARS), but apparent-fucking-ly not! I don't care if you "love" this fic so much you just "can't help it", get a life. Christ.

Second was someone here on Tumblr. Fandom talk, extremely awkward, great art though I will admit! But they were in a very angsty teen phase (they told me they were 21, which I did not believe for a second) with a very unhealthy obsession and equally unhealthy desire to see doom and gloom; they're that person that begs for hope in the darkness but the moment it's presented, they reject it because clearly whining and crying over the Big Sadness is the better option. Like, they apparently genuinely had full breakdowns because of a children's book series and one other movie and its ending. Told them over and over again I was sorry these things made them feel so bad, maybe step away from these things?? Buuut no, they're a clear masochist and I was getting low key sick of it but didn't want to be outright mean to them. Got on the topic of the movie (9) and out of curiosity, I went and rewatched it (I hadn't seen it since it came out in I think 2009?) and gave my opinion. Dude had another fit when I mentioned the ending of the film was rather good and pretty satisfying, but apparently that wasn't the responce they wanted. Bruh threw a bitch fit because apparently a bunch of steampunk ragdolls from a fictional B- movie were worth crying over. I made to reply but noticed the text bar wasn't letting me (I think they turned off messages, I don't think they blocked me because I could still see our message history and I could see their blog) so I said fuck it and blocked them. They also had a weird habit of using asterisks unironically, for example :*looks down* like...full stop.

If you're reading this person mentioned above, seek help or cut the bullshit. It's not cute, we're not in a fucking anime, this is not how you interact with people. This is coming from a socially anxious and awkward autistic person. Seek help.

I lost my sense of smell to COVID two weeks ago, and yet I can still smell and taste the bullshit, and it is PUTRID coming off these two.

[lastoneout]

Ngl I think I am truly about to hit my fucking limit and idk what to do about it anymore.

Ever since my nerve block wore off my migraines have been worse than they've ever been before in my entire life, like I'm literally having one every single day, and I now have severe neck pain on top of it which is also constant, and legit none of my doctors give a single solitary shit.

I tried to bring this up with my pain clinic and the guy just said it was good that the nerve block helped for a month or so, and that my current issues were just muscle pain and I need to go to PT about it, and I can't get in with a new pain clinic bcs my primary never gave me the referral she said she would and no matter how many times I call the clinic and leave messages about it no one ever calls me back.

My neurologist just seems confused that I'm still having migraines despite being on like 6 medications that are supposed to help manage them and she says it in a way that really makes me feel like she thinks it's somehow my fault, and when I brought up the neck pain she just told me to take ibuprofen even though I've told her repeatedly that it doesn't help, and she also said I should do the nerve block again even though it put me in the ER and made everything worse in the long run. Plus I'm pretty sure she'd just prescribe another steroid taper pack and once again ignore me when I say I'm really sensitive to them and they make me feel like shit and the last one didn't help.

I can't take my rescue meds more than 4 times in 30 days and I've already taken it more than that bcs I was desperate. The steroid taper pack helped for like a week before everything came back just as bad as before. I can't take my fioricet because it messes with my birth control and I had sex less than 5 days ago. I can't take the oxycodone they gave me in the ER bcs it makes my migraines "bounce back" worse once it wears off. Ibuprofen still isn't helping.

Do I call my neurologist? Idk what she's going to do, she doesn't seem to give a shit, and there's a solid chance the on call doctor just refuses to speak to me, and my referral to a new neurologist just got turned down bcs apparently the new clinic "doesn't have anyone who can see me for my problems". My pain clinic also doesn't give a shit and frankly I don't even want to be a patient there anymore since the doctor has just made everything worse. Do I go to the ER? I've been there dozens of times over the last couple of months and they can usually make the pain ago away for a day before I'm right back where I started, and they usually just give me fioricet which again, I do not want to risk pregnancy. Urgent care? They can't do anything to help either.

I'm in pain all the time and nothing is helping and none of my doctors care and I just want everything to fucking stop. I feel so abandoned. Like I'm worthless or broken bcs why else would I be treated this way? Why else would all of my doctors ignore me or reject me or regard me with contempt. Being nice doesn't work. Being confident and blunt makes them angry and thus less likely to help me. Breaking down sobbing in their office doesn't do shit.

I'm so fucking done. I just want this to stop. I'm so tired of being strong and fighting and getting nowhere. Fighting is just making it worse. No one who can help cares. I just want to lay down in my bed and wither away, I guess I deserve it for having the audacity to want better. I can't take this anymore, I really can't. But I don't have options. I just get to suffer.

Like the only way I know to make it clear to people that I'm basically at rock bottom is to admit that I've reached the point where I no longer want to be alive and I absolutely know that saying that to a doctor will lead to more problems than solutions. And like, I'm not going to hurt myself, but I've def hit the "life is not worth living" stage and a migraine has to be pretty fucking bad for me to get there.

I just don't know what to do anymore.

[changedlives]

YES…WE ARE BLESSED! THIS IS CRAZY!!!

Shalom Bishop and Fellow Harvesters,

I want to share an example of what Bishop means when Bishop says “We Harvesters, are a BLESSED people!”

My daughter had a rough time in grades 9th and 10th grade. During 9th grade we were in quarantine, and directly following was the aftermath; so my daughter only had two years of physical high school participation.

There was also a lot of rough patches raising her through teenage years (along with her 2 siblings) as a single parent. Although, I’ve come to understand from Bishop that single parenthood is a part of where my grace and anointing comes from; at times I still felt like I couldn’t see the forest from the trees.

I was in my Noah’s Ark! (for those who don’t know, it’s a reference from Bishop’s messages and pop-ups from the Let’s Go Crazy like Noah Series).

But back to the report. It’s important to note that during all this, my daughter also had to grow through a stutter which she had since she was 6 years old. That in itself was a challenge that we became VICTORIOUS!

In my daughter’s last year of high-school, God has paired her with a devoted mentor (who also stutters and is nationally and internationally recognized in the world of both sports and philanthropy. He’s developed such a strong family bond with my daughter and me. So many opportunities has come from this and so much more to come.

With the support of my daughter’s mentor: As the senior year approached, We applied to 22 colleges and went on 5 college visits.

16 schools said no, 5 did accept her, but the circumstances just didn’t work out. Even a few contacts from her mentor just didn’t seem to fit. We were all getting worried. I could tell her mentor was starting feel defeated, but I knew God was is all of this!

CRAZY ENOUGH (another reference from the “Let’s Go Crazy Series), we started thinking of a back up plan. Our plan was just pick one of the few that said yes, even though it didn’t seem to be a fit and just “make do” with what we had. We were preparing ourselves to make the best out of an “OK“ situation. BUT GOD!

It’s important to note that the last school we were waiting on, happens to be one of the top Division I schools in the country and so we were more prepared to just accept the other schools bc of the “High Value” position of this institution both nationally and internationally. We felt like this school was just going to be another rejection in the pile.

BUT GOD… just one week before the deadline for commitment day, the top division 1 university sent my daughter an email saying: not only have they accepted her, but they’ve developed a program where they help students get prepared for their major main campus. This program is strictly through the university for students that they see potential in.

Plus. my daughter DOES NOT have to pay a dime for her first year. I declare this will expand through all 4 years of her college career. Bishop, I will keep you updated!

Moreover, This opportunity will also prepare and allow my daughter to play basketball with some of the most sought after women’s basketball players in the country. My Child has only been playing basketball for two years. This program helps her with pacing so that she doesn’t feel rushed or forced in a major world that we all know God has prepared for her! This is nothing but THE LORD!

We were all SHOCKED! Any time her mentor or anyone else mentions how “CRAZY” this is! I say “IT’S OUR LORD AND SAVIOR!”

Bishop if it wasn’t for your teachings and learning all of the principles that I learn from you, I wouldn’t have understood how my sowing, learning, and my application of these principles; puts my household in on THE WINNING SIDE OF LIFE!

Thank you Bishop for your service, leadership, commitment, passion, and knowledge! THIS IS TRULY OUR YEAR OF MORE! #WeWin #FaithfulGiversFlourish