#what's this ?? oh no ........ I'm ................... MATURING ! OH THE AGONY !!! ))

[natalchartnurtures]

So tell me Taylor, Who am I gonna take to be my ~Lover~?

Want a sneak peak into who YOU'RE gonna take to be your significant-long-term partner?

(pile 1 to 3- left to right)

~~~~~~~~~~~

Pile 1:

Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close forever and ever? And ah, take me out, and take me home You're my, my, my, my Lover..

Let me say this. You're opening card is the ten of cups, right of the bat.. there's this beautiful love I feel between the two of you. Their presence in your life would either happen as a consequence of you resolving some of your deep subconscious beliefs that kept you limited in terms of love or.. some of you beautiful folks I feel your person will help prove your limiting beliefs around love wrong. This part of your relationship may feel a lil scary and intense but your love for them will end up helping you all the way through.

Oh wow.. I'm getting that you and your person will take on life together, almost with this feeling of being comrades. Especially during your more difficult and uncertain times, your relationship with them will only get stronger. Its giving Bestie energy ✨️ Don't we love that around here? Hehe

They really help you calm down if you're prone to anxiety and/or overthinking. Their energy has a really calming effect on you. Which is probably one of your favorite things about them 😊

I'm getting a strong message of this person being radically different from your previous partners. Maybe you are used to partners who are possessive, lack emotional intelligence and always gave you a reason to worry but I feel your person is a FAR cry from this kinda energy which will surprise you at first I'm ngl 😅 but once you get on board with the newness they bring, you'll have a beautiful relationship with them :')

"Equal give and take" I hear. Aw.

I feel like before you did the inner work with your subconscious mind, you attracted partners that weren't all that healthy but I see that as soon as you put away your wounds and old unhelpful beliefs that you might have picked up from childhood, that may have kept your energy stagnant, to rest they will show up into your life. You won't be able to miss it!

Side note: Ya'll reeeeeally remind me of Zendaya and Tom Holland. I kept having visions of them in my mind while I was channeling for your pile.. Isn't that something 👀

That was your reading, pile 1. Hope you enjoyed it!

Love and light, sweet souls ✨️

~~~~~~~~~~~~

pile 2:

And there's a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you dear Have I known you 20 seconds or 20 years?

Ooh.. I feel your person being highly intelligent and just really smart overall. They seem quite deep to me.. their energy is direct and doesn't really play around. They definitely come off strong to you when you first meet them. They don't seem to enjoy small talk or socializing "just for fun" they seem to take their social life really seriously which is why they might keep to themselves mostly having a very TIGHT group they let themselves mingle with.

I have to say this.. your person has developed an incredible relationship with their mind. A quite healthy one after years of suffering mental agony they have figured out how to master their own mind and as a result they seem quite mature and come off quite stable. They're giving off a strong regal vibe, like, they have a lot of self respect and/or a lot of people seem to respect your person. Your person strikes me like the kind that not everybody necessarily likes but somebody who is respected and revered (in some cases) nonetheless. Wow. Strong vibes. They could be quite an intense person too ngl. They might like to dip their toes into psychology or simply put, the Scorpionic arts or.. just be interested in the occult from time to time 👀

They may not believe in love before they meet you tbh.

They like to believe in what they have evidence for and seems like before meeting you they simply hadn't find evidence of real love.. aw, that's low-key so cute!

Your person comes off quite practical and earthy. They may move in a very strategic way, keeping their plans (and their life in general) mostly to themselves.. which is giving PRIVATE energy. They seem hella private 👀 haha

So you know they're gonna keep your relationship to themselves like it's a scared, precious thing that they gotta safeguard :')

Meeting you will POSITIVELY flip their world upside down. If there's one thing they don't understand, its love and romance. When you walk into their life, being your cute ass self, they won't know what to do with themselves and despite them being successful in their lives prior to meeting you, they'd feel lost with you. You make them feel.. dumb haha. Or they perceive it that way. You might think it to be ridiculously cute lmao.

They're definitely gonna feel A BURNING passion for you right from the get go and that's how they'll know that you're their person!

That was your reading, pile 2. Hope you enjoyed it!

Love and light, sweet souls ✨️

~~~~~~~~~~~~

pile 3:

My heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue All's well that ends well to end up with you Swear to be over-dramatic and true to my lover

So.. you guy's person and you come together in an interesting way. This is immediately telling me that your person is someone you don't expect to fall in love with. Ya'll might know each other for a while (depending on each person for how long exactly) and the feelings develop overtime. For some this person might reveal their feelings on accident while being drunk one night or something along those lines lmao (very specific, so take that with a grain of salt) lol but yea it's gonna be one of those really cute friends-to-lovers type situation with you and your person or enemies-to-lovers too maybe? 👀 Some KANTHONY vibes coming through #Bridgerton <3

Haha anyway.

You won't foresee a relationship between you and your person before it happens :p

Your person.. seems to have endured a partner before you (or many partners) who didn't really care for them. This may even be a feminine friend/family member as well. They broke your person's heart in a significant way and may even have manipulated you person into staying in the relationship (be it romantic or otherwise) which they eventually stood up to. Seems like a Karmic situation too btw. This Karmic situation, really helped your person grow and evolve into the person who was truly meant for you tho 😊 yay. They've healed from this previous heartbreak and somehow this road of healing brings them to you. Ah.. The reason why this previous relationship is coming into picture is because- they probably meet you while healing from this old situation.. they'd be hard at work trying to resolve the pain the went through and their reward for doing that is.. your love. AW. STOP IT! THAT'S CUTE <3

Ya'll remind me of that song "You Belong With Me" by our queen Taylor Swift. The lyrics are playing through my head now as I channel your person's energy. You could have additional messages in that song 😊

That was your reading, pile 3. Hope you enjoyed it!

Love and light, sweet souls ✨️

~~~~~~~~~~~~

[em-ontv]

Heyy, I'm obsessed with your writing, so I was wondering of you could write some more about Newt from the maze runner? Anything really, I love your style of writing and i'd love to hear more about a charcter I love! Thank you, <3

Hey there, thank you for liking my writing <3! And yes, I will write more newt because he is an absolute sweetheart. Hope you like it ◡̈ !

Fix me up.

Pairing: Newt x medjack!reader

Summary: Newt got hurt when the new greenie accidentally dropped a garden-hoe that scratched him and he only wanted you to patch him up.

Warnings: mentions of injuries, Newt being a bit dramatic, a few Glader language?, use of y/n, English is not my first language, mistakes should be present, apologies beforehand

Word count: 552

———————————————————————————

It was another normal day in the Glade. The familiar hum of activity filled the air as the boys went about their routine tasks. As you got up for the morning, Frypan waved you over from the kitchen area, a heap of fresh vegetables in front of him.

“Y/n, mind giving me a hand with these?” Fry gave a smile, gesturing at the pile while you walked over.

Although you were a Medjack, you often found yourself helping around in the kitchen, chopping up vegetables and stirring up pots by Frypan’s side – he really enjoyed your company, since you knew how to handle food with decency instead of almost burning the whole kitchen down like the greenie he tried to train two months ago.

You picked up a knife and started chopping, the rhythmic sound of the blade hitting against the wooden board created a comforting background noise.

But suddenly, a commotion broke out near the garden. Raised voices and loud chatters made you look up, and without a second thought, you dropped the knife and rushed towards the noise.

As you neared the garden, you yanked past the small crowd of boys that surrounded the person in the middle – Newt. You were greeted by the sight of him, clutching his arm as blood slowly bled through the gaps of his fingers.

“If you’re wondering, the greenie dropped a hoe and scratched him,” Winston gave you a nudge, his eyebrows raised slightly.

“That doesn’t look like a scratch to me, where the shuck is Clint and Jeff?” you shot Winston a glare after seeing the hint of amusement in his eyes.

“They’re–” Winston started but got cut off when Newt caught sight of you and immediately let out a dramatic groan.

“Ughhh… it hurts!” Newt groaned again, his eyes flickering to you every couple of seconds, making sure that you paid attention to his… uh, ‘pain’.

Newt started wincing and grimacing, exaggerating the pain of his arm. Clint and Jeff were there long before you, and they attempted to approach him once again, to try and help him with his injury. However, Newt kept swatting their hands away, shooting them glares and complaining loudly about the pain.

“Stay back, you’ll only make it worse!” Newt declared, throwing in a loud sigh for good measure. It rendered the two Medjacks speechless.

“Oh, the agony! The absolute agony!” he clutched tighter on his arm.

To be fair, the cut was bleeding pretty badly, but you didn’t expect a whole outburst followed by a meltdown from him. What did you expect? Perhaps more maturity from the second-in-command. And if the greenie wasn’t already klunking his pants, he sure is now.

“Alright, move… move.” you pinched the bridge of your nose and finally decided to step in.

Newt sighed in relief, visibly relaxing and letting his guard down. “Finally, somebody who knows what they’re doing.”

Clint and Jeff exchanged an amused look, some of the boys standing around rolled their eyes and chuckled before scattering about, returning to their tasks now that the theatrics were over.

“Come on, let’s get you to the Med Hut,” you shook your head while Newt started repeating a bunch of ‘ow, ow, ow, ow’ over and over again, seeking your sympathy. Hiding a little victorious smirk from your sight.

[groovebunker]

cc x fran fic masterpost

been meaning to do this for a little while - indulge me so i can pin it.

ongoing work

it's all there in black and white [teen - 4/?]

when newspaper editor maxwell sheffield wants to introduce an advice column, he pairs veteran political reporter cc babcock up with his newest hire, fashion columnist fran fine. the only problem? cc wouldn't take her own advice at gunpoint. oh, and she hates fran's perfect face and stupid laugh and general existence. there is that. aka the agony aunt au.

chapter one -- chapter two -- chapter three -- chapter four

i only liked a lot of things before i knew (the way i love it when you touch me now) [explicit - 1/2]

cc admits she's never been with a man who got her off. fran's nothing if not persistently helpful.

chapter one

can't reach the moon up above, don't dare touch the fire [explicit - 1/?]

cc's never been sure how to want things. fran's determined to show her how.

chapter one

what would you do?

what would you do (if they never found us out?) [explicit - 11/11]

after what was supposed to be a one time thing in the wine cellar, cc and fran find they can't keep their hands off of one another. but it's only because neither of them can get maxwell. right?

i. how it started -- ii. furious -- iii. do you trust me? -- iv. beautiful -- v. missed you -- vi. promises -- vii. i'm glad you're here -- viii. i've got you -- ix[a]. only bought (you) this dress so i could take it off. -- ix[b]. needing -- x. what would you do if they ever found us out

what would you do (the vignettes) [explicit]

i. the smoke gets in your eyes -- ii. while you were sleeping

the latke-verse

i like you (a latke) [teen - completed - 1/1]

fran doesn't want to show up to her ma's chanukah party alone. cc's fed up of seeing her sad since she got back from paris. no ulterior motives here, none at all. aka the fake dating chanukah fic.

seventh time is (hopefully) the charm [teen - completed - 1/1]

cc gets some help with valentine's breakfast.

won't you?

won't you just let me pretend that this is the love that i want? [teen]

there's a lot of things cc and fran never talk about. until they do.

won't you just show me the love that i need? [teen]

cc's never been good at being needed. unless, obviously, fran needs her.

won't you just give me the love that i long for? [mature - 2/2]

neither of them are sure how it's so confusing to be able to have what you want. until it's not.

chapter 1 -- chapter 2

won't you just show me the love i've been missing? [teen - 1/?]

sometimes, you have to go back to where you started for anything to change.

chapter 1

should be over all the butterflies [mixed ratings]

a series of vignettes set in the won't you universe.

august two thousand and nine: the fence -- two thousand and six: crossword -- two thousand: the beginning -- two thousand and three: the first time -- two thousand and seven: look after her -- two thousand and eleven: no such thing as bad thoughts -- two thousand and fourteen: how did you know? -- two thousand and seventeen: i wish you hadn't

one-shots (for now)

trick or treat (or: how cc babcock learnt to enjoy halloween) [mature]

c.c. does not like halloween. fran's absolutely not going to stand for that.

fran fine, sweater thief [teen]

five times fran wears c.c.'s sweater and one time c.c. turns the tables.

wise men followed the star (the way i followed my heart) [explicit]

when the phone rings at 11 on christmas eve, fran doesn't expect cc on the other end.

i want your midnights [teen]

c.c. does leave maxwell but that's not the only reason she runs away from the sheffield house. when she and fran end up at the same new year's eve party, can she convince herself to stand still?

i still see it all in my head (burnin' red) [teen]

soulmate au: the world is black and white until you see your soulmate for the first time. or: how red becomes c.c. babcock's favourite colour.

three minutes [teen]

fran finds someone unexpected on the other side of the table when val accidentally takes her to lesbian speed dating. unexpected but not necessarily unwanted.

black coffee morning on the east side [general]

fran's not sure what cc stands for. but she's absolutely going to find out. or: the one where fran's a barista and cc's a very beautiful stranger who drinks freshly brewed black coffee and blushes a lot.

[lollytea]

hunter baby fever haver so true. guy who is mentally furnishing a nursery before even having his own place. baby name book addict. hes comparing & crossreferencing BI & earth names as soon as children start to be a possibility

Fr I don't think he even particularly cared about kids at all until a certain point. Like his lukewarm reaction to little Philip in Hollow Mind, before he actually realized who he was? He was all like "Hm. Yes. That certainly is. A Child."

But then he starts his apprenticeship under Dell and suddenly he's exposed to kids every day. And he's put into situations where he needs to talk to them and understand them because it helps with the palisman carving process. And he was pretty awkward at first cuz he has barely had any interaction with children before this (King was the only child he knew, who happens to be very mature for his age) and kids are weird and bizarre and unpredictable and Hunter is a little out of his depth. But he gradually get accustomed to it and even warms up to being around them, even finding them endearing. So at that point he's like "Hmmm....maybe....maybe I'd like kids one day. Maybe....."

But then, but then, but THEN!!! But then he's at work one day and somebody lets him hold their baby and its all fucking over for him. It awakens the beast. He's not normal anymore. How can he possibly be normal??? How??? How can he continue to exist and live an indifferent life when babies are so fucking SMALL?????? WHAT THE FUCK!!!!!!! And then it just gets worse and worse and worse over time. He gets more and more comfortable with kids. He holds more babies. Now he's just insane about it.

And the thing is. Hunter knows he and Willow are too young for a baby. He knows neither are emotionally mature enough. He knows they still have so much growing up to do. He KNOWS okay he knows. So he's not begging for a baby. He has no intention of trying to have a baby right now. But that doesn't stop him from being in AGONY over the fact that it's gonna be several years before he can have a baby. His primal instincts are like. WANNA HOLD BABY!!! WANNA SQUISH BABY!!!! WANNA SMOOCH BABY!!!!!

Man is sighing wistfully over little baby clothes at the market and Willow's kicking herself for leaving him unattended cuz now he's gonna be in one of those moods tonight where he's whispering potential baby names in her ear when they're cuddling and she's had ENOUGH of it. She already wakes up every morning to twelve video links from Hunter of toddlers eating lemons and making funny faces or some shit because its usually in the middle of the night when his fever is the most potent.

Willow wants kids one day too. But she's also in very deep in her Flyer Derby thing. So while Hunter's idea of having children is the aftermath, Willow's mind immediately goes to the pregnancy part. And like. She has no intention of taking a pause from her athlete life yet. She's thriving.

Tho in fairness she does think it's kinda funny just how much of a menace Hunter is over this. He's just. Listen. If Hunter was never supposed to be a father, fate wouldn't land him with so many hobbies that could be utilized for future fatherhood.

An avid bookworm with an insanitable curiosity? He's 19 years old and reading parenting books for fun.

A tailor? He can sew, knit and embroider. He can MAKE little baby hats and mittens and booties and blankets. He'd probably be so excited to do so actually.

Woodcarver? He can build little wooden baby toys. He can make a mobile with little dangling palismen. He can build the goddamn crib itself and carve patterns into it of all of his and Willow's favourite flowers.

Like. He's spent a decade preparing. He's gonna be so ready when the time comes. But also you know that when the time DOES finally come and Willow tells him the exciting news, Hunter's euphoric celebration lasts for a total of four and a half minutes before he's like "Oh Titan....oh Titan, Willow, what if I'm a horrible father?"

He's a mess of a man.

[thisfrailheart]

prompt: limb | july 6 | jegulus au | suggestive and mature themes, swearing | word count: 773 | @jegulus-microfic

***

"Hi, I'm James. Marlene's out sick, so you're stuck with me today."

He's in hell, Regulus is sure of it. This is punishment. Cause he definitely wants to be stuck with that man somewhere. Preferably not at physical therapy, though. And without those horrible gym shorts in the way.

"Regulus?"

Regulus tears his gaze away. James is looking at him expectantly and he realizes he wasn't listening at all. "I'm sorry?"

"Can we get started?," James repeats with an easy smile and Regulus is sweating.

He swallows, nods. "Yeah. Mhm. Yes."

James claps his hands and moves a bit closer to the massage table Regulus is sitting on. "Awesome. Are you comfortable with me touching you?"

So comfortable. So fucking comfortable. "Ungh-"

"Pardon?" Fuck fuck fuck.

"Uh-huh, yes. Definitely. Go for it." What the hell am I saying. James seems a bit confused as well but does reach for the arm Regulus holds out to him. James' hands are pleasantly cold against his overheating skin and Regulus shivers.

James' brow is furrowed as he assesses Regulus' wrist and forearm with deft fingers. "Any pain? Soreness?"

That cologne you're wearing is agony, actually. Sweet, sweet agony. "None."

"How about range of motion? How does it feel? Any issues with tightness?"

"Never had any complaints." WHAT.

James freezes. "Sorry?"

Uh-oh. Regulus coughs. "I don't have any complaints."

James nods and continues, but his gaze lingers a bit and there's a drop of sweat trickling down between Regulus' shoulder blades.

"Can you push against my hand? Yes. Now a bit harder?" LORD.

"Make a fist for me? Yes, just like that. That's good." It is. It really is.

When James finally steps back, his scent lingers right there for a few seconds and Regulus actually has to bite back a moan.

"Alright. The healing process is going well, from what I can tell. You're definitely on track and should be right as rain in no time. I'd like to do some strengthening exercises and finish off with some stretches. How does that sound?"

"Brilliant!," Regulus says and it comes out a bit too loud and a bit too forceful and he blushes. But James laughs.

"I like the enthusiasm. A lot of people are quite peeved about being here. And rightfully so. Who wants broken bones?," he shrugs and hands Regulus a variety of brightly colored balls to squeeze. "But PT after a fracture or trauma is really very important to hopefully avoid long-term issues. Not that you have to worry about that. You'll have your arm back soon."

James switches him to another exercise and Regulus almost drools when the man demonstrates and the veins in his arm pop.

"I don't miss it. I'm left-handed so I don't really use it anyway," Regulus babbles, unable to stop the word vomit.

A grin from James and Regulus' heart flips in his chest. "It's good that you're not struggling too much while you're healing. But you should still take care of your non-dominant hand, especially a broken one. Never know when you might need it." And when he reaches for Regulus' hand and guides him through the stretches to end their session, Regulus has to bite his tongue to keep the whine from tumbling past his lips. "Hmm, exactly like that. Slow down a bit. Yes. Very good."

Blood is rushing in Regulus' ears and threatening to rush other places, too. He's actually thinking about throwing himself down the stairs at home and hoping for the worst. Broken leg, maybe? Might also go all out and try to lose a limb. Longer recovery time.

What the hell am I even thinking. I'm worse than Sirius when he met that teacher and wanted to go back to uni.

"Earth to Regulus?"

"Huh? I mean…sorry?" Get a grip, god.

"We're done for today. Your next session will be with Marlene, as per usual. I hope I won't see you here again," James says and it sounds like something he tells patients but he fucking winks before he ducks out of the room.

Regulus grins. We'll see about that.

Six weeks later and Regulus is demonstrating just how well his wrist has healed by shoving his hand into James' jeans in the alley behind the club. "Thought you didn't want to see me again?"

"Not as…a patient," James pants, breath hot on Regulus' face.

"No?" A quick twist and James moans.

"Definitely— Definitely not."

"Good to know. But I might still need your professional help."

James' blinks, immediately concerned. "What's wrong? Is it your wrist?"

Regulus smirks. "My wrist is fine. I'm about to ruin my knees, though."

[gaslysainz]

Lost (PG10) pt.2

Summary: The world is utterly unfair. He was her most prized possession, her life, her first ever commitment of love. But to him, she was just a mere person lost in his big world.

warnings: ; unrequited feelings; Pierre is a douche , arrange marriage, angst, explicit scenes and languages.

Author's Note~ Heya guys! So a few days back I posted the first chapter of my first ever fanfic! And I'm overwhelmed by the response ❤️ Really Thanks a lot to everyone who had liked the story so far. It's just the beginning of the journey, there's a lot to come. Love You All 😘 Here's my first ever story for you guys. As soon as I finish this one, I'll start taking requests maybe! Till then please show your love and support for "LOST".

Journal Entry -2

A new episode and a new day of my life. Never in my 24 years of life have I ever thought that I would have to come across this day. This awful day when i would have to sit through a whole day in my room crying my eyes out and coming out of my room only when i'm called for causes like "Julia needs a glass of water, you need to clean Julia's dress, Julia accidentally dropped food on the floor, clean up the mess" so on and so forth. Today was the day when I had to look at the most heart wrenching thing ever...

So here's what happened 

*FLASHBACK*

I was reading a book in my room and suddenly someone knocked at my door. I opened the door and came across Pierre!

"H-hey! you need something?"

I noticed him looking inside my room at our wedding picture hanging on the wall right above my head. Obviously he'd be curious about my room cause he's never been inside my room before. I actually felt a little awkward so i cleared my throat to get his attention.

"Uh! yea actually Julia was having a headache, go and make some soup or something and bring it up to my room  along with some medicine!" There was that tone! Full of despise for me.

"Sure" By saying that i went down to the kitchen to make some soup for her.

That's what my job in this house is after all, looking after the house and the people in it. Oh! Did I mention? We do not have any maids. Cause apparently according to my husband's mistress, I'm not any different than a maid so why waste money on hiring one? Anyways, after making the soup and being satisfied with it I went towards Pierre's room and stopped once I saw something that no married or committed person should ever see. My husband was on top of my sister thrusting deep inside her and them moaning out each other's name. 

You must be thinking that what am i so shaken up about? I should've been used to this by now, Well this is the first time i'm seeing them doing it in front of my eyes. Yes i admit it that i've heard them before but seeing it live, right in front of me is a whiplash of a whole lot of negative thoughts. And what did I do in that situation? Nothing! I just closed the door silently, kept the soup and the medicine outside the room and came back to my room and cried my eyes out! Why did they have to keep the door opened? Did my husband really become so heartless? Did he really want me to see that I can never get his love? Did he really have literally shove it in my face that he belongs completely and soulfully to his mistress and I can never take her place?

Oh! and the agony! My Step sister saw me standing outside the room and smirked!

Yes she had the audacity to smirk at me....

*FLASHBACK ENDS*

I know i'm young and naive. My sister is 27 and i'm 24 years old. She's more mature than I am, sexier, prettier, and more perfect , with an hourglass figure, amazing style. But all that, with a nasty heart it seems. She can easily go out wearing anything and everything that she wants whereas I tend to gravitate towards PJ's, hoodies and oversized clothes. The only time I wear dresses are at the parties that I attend with my husband. But still, he never looks at me the same way he looks at her. She is definitely Pierre's s absolute match in all spheres. And here I am, stupid little girl crying my eyes out inside my room cause my husband is making love to my step sister. 

I, Mrs. Y/n Gasly is once again LOST!

LOST in my sister's PERFECTION!

PS - Please lemme know what do you think about LOST and also let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list ❤️

@peachiicherries @crimeshowjunkie

@oblomovissad ❤️

[fortunatelychaoticphantom]

Yeah, so I finished Breaking Dawn.

General:

Holly shit. Holly fucking shit. Holly Jesus fucking Christ holly fucking hell god damn shit. THIS BOOK IS AMAZING.

I am serious. I am not being ironic or trying to be cool or contradictory or nothing. This book is absolutely batshit insanely fucking good. THIS IS GOOD FUCKING FANTASY.

Look. I've read and watched plenty of reevaluations of the series in the past couple of years, and I think we all know by now that it is far from perfect and there's a lot to criticize, but that the criticism and cultural uproar at the time was just pure misogyny and hatred to anything that girls like (a day will come when we talk about Justin Bieber and how the entire world decided its number one enemy was a 13 year old boy who wanted to be a pop singer and was beloved by 13 year old girls but it is not this day), and that Meyer is actually a very good world builder. This reread really solidified this for me, but even more so then before. I really do believe she is a good writer. NOT GREAT, but good. Until Breaking Dawn.

I am not joking when I tell you that this is one of the most incredible books I have ever read in my life. It is leaps and bounds better then any other book in the series. I think the other books are fine and enjoyable, they definitely don't hold the same charm over me as they did when I was 16, but they are absolutely entertaining and even truly touching (New Moon specifically). But this... this is just a different league altogether. This book is mature, and brutal, and aggressive, and disgusting, and horrifying, and reached fucked up territories that few writers dare to explore and I absolutely admire Meyer for this.

Part One - Bella:

It's a pretty short section of the book so there's not much to say about. It's sweet and fun but nothing much more.

Horny Bella is the best Bella. Get some girl.

Part two - Jacob:

Anyway, this right here is what brilliance is made of. I need to find a way to articulate it properly. It's the first time I have ever been so acutely aware of the narrator because the entire narration is in first person and so all the sections that are supposedly general descriptions are an active thought of Jacob that in almost every single moment are being experienced not just by me but by his pack(s) and by Edward and are commented on in the story. I don't even know how to explain just what an unbelievably wonderfully complexly imaginatively fucked up this is. Just. Amazing.

LEAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!

I'm okay I swear. But seriously. Leah's story is amazing as is, but it's the room Meyer gives her to be both filled with sorrow and with just pure spiteful rage. I love that she is not perfect, she is not currently nice, because she can't be nice, but a day will come when she might be better, be in a better place, and that's okay because we understand her. I just love her so much.

Speaking of which, I love the new bond between Rosalie and Bella but I also love that it's not entirely a good things? Like, there is a very clearly stated undertone that Rose cares more about the fetus than she does about Bella, and I just respect that? She isn't just magically sweet and kind, it's twisted and complicated and good storytelling (I forgot to mention in the Eclipse post Rosalie's backstory, but obviously that's also amazing).

Seth is also the most wonderful and pure cinnamon role in history and I will die for him.

6. this:

Leah: Mom dropped him a lot when he was a baby. Jacob: Oh his head, apparently. Leah: He used to gnaw on the crib bars, too. Jacob: Lead paint? Leah: Looks like it.

7. This section is just so fucking brutal. The physical toll of carrying the baby for Bella, Edward's agony, Jacob's suffering, Leah's everything, the coming attack from the wolves, the birth... Immaculate.

Part three - Bella:

If there was one Mary Sue I would stan, it was Bella. You're doing amazing sweetie!! You go and be an awesome newborn. We believe in you!!!

All the vampire descriptions are just so fucking good. The whole distractability, the way the new senses literally overwhelm you. I love it all.

You know what? I really don't mind the imprinting. Meyer goes to great lengths to say that it's in no way romantic. It's not the Greatest Thing, but, I mean, I'm reading a fantasy book... my suspension is very much suspending...

Jacob's being an ass again, only caring about what he wants, but it's only for like two chapters so it's fine.

I can't help but love the congregation of vampires, it's just so fun and interesting, and even though we spend so little time with them they are all so distinct.

It's a great showdown. I love it way more then I did the first time. I am still fond of the What-The-Fuck-They-Are-All-Dying???? scene from the movie, but it's intense even without it.

and this:

Garrett: If we live through this, I`ll follow you anywhere, woman. Kate: Now he tells me.

Good job all around. Now I need to go buy Midnight Sun.

[therealvinelle]

Emily the vampire gets changed and has the gift to age/deage vampires to wherever they want to be and offers to help anyone who wants to.

What do the Cullens + the Volturi choose as their optimal ages ?

Oof.

The Cullens

The thing about being immortal is that you can complain that it's so sad and angsty to be forever eighteen, and since there's nothing to be done about it your bluff will never be called.

More tellingly yet, none of the Cullens ever actually complain of their youth. Oh, there's Edward and his "I'm a bad bad man and my youthful appearance another LIEEE" schtick, but even he doesn't sit around saying "I wish I looked thirty".

I do, however, think that if the Cullens were offered to change their ages they would feel pressured to do so.

If they are all adult-looking, they can skip high school. They can still attend college to their hearts' content, but it will not raise questions among the humans when they start with college and then go on to find jobs the way it would if eighteen-year-old Rosalie tried to pass herself off as thirty. They would be able to stay in the same places for longer.

And all they have to do is look slightly different. Just as beautiful, and no wrinkles or changed metabolism or any of what humans have to deal with when they transition from teens to adults, just... a little different.

To some, like Jasper, Emmett, Esme, and Alice, this wouldn't be such a concern. Esme is already in her mid-twenties, she has no issue. Jasper struggles to eat people wherever he goes, changing the setting from a school to a workplace wouldn't change that and he would if anything be more at risk since there's no one to stop him if he loses control (unless of course all the Cullens get jobs at the same company, which... they might just). Emmett, same boat as Esme, he's already twenty years older and his huge build likely makes him appear even older. This would make no difference to him.

As for Alice, I imagine if she has any issues with her looks it's going to be how extreme it is. She barely has any hair on her head, she's "thin in the extreme", and she's short enough to be mistaken for a child. Yes, she is rocking the look, but that's not by choice and I imagine she if nothing else regrets the fashion items she'll never be able to wear on account of being so short (no disrespect to Meyer's understanding of fashion, but no, the triangle dress she wore at prom would not have worked on someone with the body Alice is described as having).

Edward, Rosalie, and Carlisle are the ones having the throes of moral agony.

If Carlisle looks ten years older than he does now, staying in a place for longer would become that much easier. On the other hand, if the others were to age themselves up, then there would be no need for him to pretend to be their father, and now he doesn't need to age himself up as much as possible. On the third hand, the younger Carlisle is pretending to be the less experienced he can claim to be, which influences what he actually gets to do.

On the fourth hand, this is his face damnit, as well as his physical maturity. If he changes any of that, he potentially changes himself as a person, and there would be no undoing the change.

Rosalie and Edward share the same problem: they can be free from high school, they can get work doing nearly whatever they want, and all they have to do is age up.

Which would lose them their youthful looks and irreparably change the family dynamic.

Hmm.

I imagine there's a long, long moment as the three of them stare at each other, and they end up in a "we go together or not at all".

They don't go.

Bella, if we're including her, asks if she can be made to look younger. You see, Edward is seventeen, Bella is not, can we do something about this?

The Volturi

None of them have reason to care except Jane and Alec.

And I imagine to them, their ages are something so personal at this point, something so intrinsic to who they are, that aging up would change too much about them and for what? So they can have sexual experiences? So they can have relationships? To what end?

Emily does not get to use her powers on anyone.

Except Bella, who now looks indistinguishable from before but she's younger, damnit.

[our-blood-is-our-ink]

Hello I was just wondering when chapter 2 of Careful creatures will drop! If there will be a chapter 2 at all, (I really hope there will be)

Ope, not me dropping off the face of the planet fic writing wise. The depreseeion really gets to you. Anyways, here's FINALLY, Chapter Two 💚💜❤️

Careful Creatures: Chapter Two

Ship(s): Hela x Agatha, Agatha x Wanda, Wanda x Hela, Hela x Agatha x Wanda

Summary: Three powerful beings broken down back to the start somehow find themselves brought together as they relearn themselves and each other.

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: angst, descriptions of being burnt, mild gore, mention of sexual assault/non-con/rape, abuse of alcohol/alcoholism/addiction, amnesia, split personality but make it ✨magic✨

Disclaimer: 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI!

A/N: Please READ THE WARNINGS before proceeding. If this were on AO3 it would be rated E for explicit material later on in the series, and M for mature material for the heavy content this story deals with.

Hela groans, her head pounding.

The second thing she registers is how much pain the rest of her body is in.

“Sh…” A soft, sweet voice soothes. “You're going to be okay, let me finish cleaning out your wounds.”

Distrust immediately floods the goddess, but her limbs hardly even respond to her internal command, her fingers twitching pathetically as she tries to call forth for her twin blades.

She can't even get her eyes to open.

When a cool cloth is pressed against one of her numerous burns, she nearly whimpers, the pain cutting sharply through the duller agony she is in.

“I know it probably hurts.” The sweet voice says, tone gentle and quiet. “But at least it hopefully won't get infected. I don't know if you're awake or not, but I hope you can hear me either way and that it's helping.” A pause. “I like helping people, I think. It feels… That feels familiar.”

Hela’s head hurts too much for her to decipher what the voice means by that, and instead focuses on the rhythmic motions the cloth is making over her cracked and blistered skin.

More than anything, once the sharp bite of pain fades, the coolingness of it soothes the way Hela still feels as if her skin is aflame, burning and burning and burning.

An unconscious whine slips from her lips when there's a pause, and the sweet voice shushes her again.

“I'm just dipping it into the water again. I'm trying to be very careful, these wounds look pretty bad.”

Hela has enough of her thoughts together to keep herself from whining again, but just barely.

Her lips do part in a throaty sigh of relief as she feels the cloth once more resuming its motions across her heated skin, but the action makes her aware of just how thirsty she is.

“W’er.” She attempts to croak out.

It hurts. Her throat hurts so bad, like the rest of her.

“Hm?” The voice hums in question.

“Wa-er.” Hela tries to carefully pronounce, but her tongue and mouth are so dry, she can't get the ‘t’ sound out.

“Oh, yes! Of course.” The sweet voice sounds… Embarrassed, perhaps? “Let me prop you up, so you don't choke.”

Hela nearly whimpers again as soft hands grasp at her, her skin still feeling as if it's on fire, and the pain spikes as she's manhandled into a more upright position.

How low she has fallen.

No family, no friends, no allies.

None but whoever the voice belongs to.

When water drips down onto her lips, she parts them and greedily sucks down the water being tipped into her mouth.

It hurts to swallow, but everything will hurt worse if she doesn't.

A sigh of relief expels itself after a few minutes, and Hela can feel her head loll back.

“You can rest.” The voice says. “I won't leave.”

Distrusting as Hela generally is, she has no choice but to trust.

If she wasn't suddenly flooded with exhaustion, she would be furious at how helpless she has become.

As it is though, she can barely conjure two words in her mind to string together.

She falls back to darkness.

—»•«—

She leans against the kitchen counter, letting the other woman ransack the cabinets in search of coffee as she smiles viciously, enjoying the enraged yelling coming from the other room.

“Seriously, where's the coffee.”

“You'd have better luck just grabbing a beer, dear.” She replies. “Or a cooler.”

Darcy Lewis lets out an exasperated sigh.

“You can drop the flirty neighbor routine, I just saw you beat up, like, six different guys.”

Agatha huffs, and doesn't deign to respond.

Ralph shouts another threat.

“You're gonna have to do something else with him. You can't just keep him tied up forever.”

Agatha shrugs carelessly.

“Take him into custody for all I care.”

“Oh, um. I don't exactly work with S.W.O.R.D. anymore. Or… Any government branch.” Darcy mumbles.

She quirks a brow, and Darcy blushes harder.

“They might've put Dickward into prison, but they said that crashing a vehicle into him was ‘reckless’ and ‘needlessly risky’.”

“Of course they did.” Agatha snorts. “This is why I've stayed under the radar.”

“You mean until you thought trying to kill a wanted fugitive was gonna be beneficial for you.”

The older woman scowls.

“That was not what I was trying to do.”

“Sure looked like it.”

Agatha scowls harder and distinctly does not look in the direction of any alcohol.

…

Fuck.

She pushes herself away from the counter and opens the freezer, pulling out a margarita mix pack.

“Um.” Darcy sounds a bit startled, looking up from where she's crouched, victoriously clutching at the canister of coffee she finally found. “Do you really think more alcohol is a good idea?”

She ignores the other woman, and wobbles a little as she begins to walk around the kitchen, pulling the various things she needs to make the drink to her liking.

“Agatha..?”

“Agnes, hot stuff! I don't know why people keep trying to call me Agatha!” She smiles brightly, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes.

Darcy seems frozen while Agnes whirls around the kitchen, determinedly ignoring the shouting coming from the other room.

The bubbly woman continues to smile with false brightness as she places the finishing touches on her drink, shrugging good-naturedly when Darcy shakes her head at the offered second glass Agnes holds out to her.

“More for me, dear!” She laughs, before taking a long drink from the first.

“I, um… Hot water?” Darcy asks weakly.

Agnes’s face shifts into a slight scowl that's gone almost as soon as it appears.

“You'll have to boil a pot.” Her tone is pointedly not cheery, and she drains the first cup of alcohol in her hand before moving on to the second.

Darcy steps in her way when she moves to grab another mix.

“I don't think more is a good idea.” The other woman says, flinching nervously as Ralph bellows again.

Agnes trembles slightly and tries not to let her anger get the best of her.

Being angry meant making mistakes and making mistakes meant getting punished.

“It's just a little something to help with the day!” Agnes attempts.

“How about some coffee instead?” Darcy offers.

Agnes does truly scowl now, and she crosses her arms.

“You’re in my home, dear.”

Darcy latches on to that.

“Yeah, exactly. I'm your guest. It wouldn't be polite of you to get smashed while I'm here.”

Agnes’s scowl deepens for a split second before a forced smile returns to her face.

“You're right, hon! I'll take some coffee too if that's what you want to have. Just make mine an Irish.” Agnes throws in a wink for good measure.

Ralph yells a string of crude words from the other room and both women exchange a glance.

“Maybe we should gag him,” Darcy suggests.

Agnes shudders.

“I– no. No, thank you, dear. I don't want my fingers anywhere near his mouth.”

Darcy very clearly decides not to ask.

Not that Agnes would have answered.

Ralph… Well, he is her husband.

Her husband who gave his friends permission to have sex with her. Who didn't care if she wanted that or not.

Agnes hisses with pain as a stabbing pain shoots across her head, right behind her left eye.

“I… I think I'm going to go lay down for a spell, dear.” She mumbles, not completely aware of her surroundings anymore. “I suddenly don't feel so well.”

Agnes doesn't know if Darcy answers her or not. Her ears are buzzing too much to.

—»•«—

…an…y…u…e…ar…me…?

—»•«—

Wanda sits and watches the mysterious woman diligently, her eyes roving over the places where her outfit is torn and burnt.

Pale skin is marred by angry red, and in some cases, a blackened soot color that only causes her to feel nauseated with guilt and fear.

She doesn't know why.

Raven locks, shining nearly blue, are a knotted, tangled mess, the long, straight strands seemingly determined to create a bird’s nest.

Wanda doesn't doubt that well taken care of, her mystery woman would be very, very beautiful.

Her heart twists painfully, and she scowls.

Her memory refuses to return, but not the echoes of the emotions. It's impossible for Wanda to make sense of what she's feeling without the memories attached to why she would be inclined to feel a certain way about any specific thing.

It's stupid.

She groans and thunks her head gently back against the tree trunk she's sitting against.

She hopes the pale woman wakes up again soon.

Wanda is beginning to feel restless, a creeping dread slowly overcoming her.

She doesn't know why, only that something in her, deep down, is pushing her, tugging her feet somewhere not here.

[yukidragon]

Can we have a one shot of Jack having a nightmare of MC marrying someone else, saying that they don't love him anymore and banishing Jack back in his VHS prison. Only to wake up with an empty bed causing more panic. But MC's just in the bathroom getting ready for the day.

You know, between this ask, and this absolutely heartbreaking picture by my good friend @illary-kore, I've been inspired. I say it's high time for Jack to get some comforting, and I'm going to use my specific MC Alice for it. Sound good? Awesome~

A reminder to everyone that Something's Wrong with Sunny Day Jack is an Adults Only fandom. Mature topics will be discussed, mostly in the form of psychological horror, body horror, angst, trauma, and a hint of spice. I hope you all enjoy this flashfic draft of painful nightmares and healing fluff.

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur

...

Alice was gone. Jack couldn’t feel her anymore. Desperately, he sought out any trace of her warmth, but all he felt was the hauntingly familiar cold numbness that grated on his senses and wore them away until there was nothing but static and an endless, empty pain.

No, no, no, no, no! Not again!

The gunshots, the screams, the crying, the pain… Jack felt that endless cycle of agony and death creeping in on his senses. It consumed him until the warmth he felt from Alice almost seemed like a lie, a delusion of heaven he created to escape hell.

Alice! Please, no… Alice! Sunshine! Help me! Save me! Alice!

Jack reached out for the barest whisper of warmth. Maybe he was just imagining it. Maybe he was deluding himself again, but that didn’t matter. He needed to find her. He needed her.

Alice!

There was a wall of ice so cold that his hands immediately felt numb when he touched it, even through his gloves. Vaguely, Jack remembered this feeling - a glass screen, a window that showed him his first glimpse of sunshine in forever. He slammed his hands against the glass blindly, screaming Alice’s name until his voice cracked and broke.

Faintly, through the static, Jack saw something to form. It was hazy, and only his left eye worked. He could feel the empty socket where his right eye used to be, weeping blood and tears down his face. He squinted his only remaining eye as he called out desperately for his sunshine.

Finally, he saw her, Alice wasn’t alone.

He was with her, the liar who tricked his sunshine and toyed with her heart. Ian was dressed like him - the new Sunny Day Jack… or rather the “only” Sunny Day Jack. He was a mockery of the original, redesigned and repackaged for a new generation that weren’t allowed to ever know that he was nothing more than a copy. He was a lie that would ensure everyone forgot the truth.

“Oh, Sunshine,” Ian said, his voice barely audible through the haze of static. “Alice, I knew you would choose me. We’re meant to be together… We were always meant to be together.”

“Jack…,” Alice said in a sigh that Jack barely heard, but she wasn’t talking to him. That name spoken so sweetly and with such a fond expression on her face was directed at the fake who held her close. “I love you.”

Alice! That’s not me! He’s not me! I’m the real Sunny Day Jack! Look at me! Don’t leave me here! Please! You can’t replace me with him too! Not you too!

 The kiss they shared was a rusty dagger gouging through his heart. Jack cried out, but his voice never reached them. They turned and walked away from him, slowly disappearing into the haze of static.

Alice! Please! Come back! You promised! You promised you’d never forget me! You promised we’d be together forever!

They were gone. Alice was gone… and Jack knew deep down in his soul that she was never coming back.

Please… Alice… my sunshine… What did I do wrong?

The despair was suffocating, the cold overwhelming, and the numbness that dissolved his senses and refused to let him ever find rest was maddening. Jack could do nothing but scream without a voice in the static and his memories of death and sunshine.

“Jack? Jack, wake up.”

Jack woke up gasping for air as if he was still capable of drowning, his body covered in a faint sheen of sweat. The cold numbness was still carved into his bones, but a glorious, beautifully familiar warmth caused it to recede back into the depths of his nightmares. His eyes - both of them - came into focus on his shaking hands that clasped tightly around two very familiar pale ones. He looked up to see Alice leaning over him, her brow knit and her pale blue eyes filled with worry. Although it was dark in their bedroom, it was nothing like the endless void he had been trapped in, and he saw his sunshine perfectly.

“Are you okay?” Alice asked. “You sounded like you were in pain an-”

Jack struck with the quickness of a cobra and snatched up Alice into his arms, who squeaked in surprise as she suddenly found herself pinned to the bed underneath him. His body, so much bigger and bulkier than hers, was a cage that surrounded her, securing her in place against him and refusing to ever let her go.

“Alice,” Jack said, his voice hushed and haunted. “Don’t go. Don’t forget me, please.”

It was difficult for Alice to make out his expression, as his hair and the way he loomed over her cast his face in shadow, but she could feel Jack shivering against her body. His breath was irregular, a bit ragged, and she could feel hot puffs of it against her cheeks. His hold was secure, but delicate, as though he was afraid that she would shatter into dust and slip between his fingers if he wasn’t careful enough.

Despite being trapped, Alice worried more about what was wrong with Jack than the position she was in. She could practically feel how much he needed her in that moment, and her heart went out to him. She brought her hand up to his cheek and he nuzzled into it immediately. He murmured her name and his breath tickled against her skin, sending a shiver up her spine.

“Jack…,” Alice said, her voice soft and soothing. “It’s okay. I’m right here. I won’t forget you, not ever.”

As the fear slowly began to recede, Jack became more aware of what he was doing and grew self-conscious about how he must’ve looked to Alice right now. This wasn’t behavior fitting of Sunny Day Jack. He needed to present only the best to his sunshine if he didn’t want to lose her. He looked away from her, growing bashful as he fumbled for a recovery, some way to smooth things over with that classic Sunny Day Jack charm that won over an entire nation, but Alice spoke first.

“Did you have a nightmare?” she asked gently, her eyes soft and focused only on him.

A nightmare. Of course. Jack almost felt stupid now for how he was reacting. Of course Alice wouldn’t leave him for some cheap imitation, or for that awful ex who toyed with her heart. How could he believe otherwise?

“Y-yeah… it was… It was just a nightmare,” Jack said, more to himself than Alice. He tried to shake off these feelings that were uncharacteristic of the Sunny Day Jack, giving his sunshine his sunniest smile as he let out a small laugh that came out more strained than he would’ve liked. “L-looks like I spooked myself pretty good, huh? But dreams can’t hurt us since… since they’re only our imagination running away with us while we sleep.” Reluctantly, he shifted so that he lay beside Alice in a more casual position, though he couldn’t bring himself to let her go. “I hope I didn’t give you a scare too, sunspot.”

Alice moved along with Jack so that she stayed close, hooking one of her legs around his despite the fact that it was obvious he wasn’t going anywhere. She wanted to make sure that he knew that she wasn’t going to leave him alone. “I’m more worried about you right now.” She slowly stroked the edge of his strained smile and felt the tension in his cheek. “Are you okay?”

“I’m swell as a bell, sunshine,” Jack said, his smile coming a bit more easily now. “As groovy as a smoothie. I just…” He forced out a small chuckle that was almost genuine. “I guess I got a little caught up in the moment, but it’s nothing some sweet dreams with good company won’t fix.”

Alice furrowed her brow. She could tell that Jack was trying to mask how he felt, which only made her concern for him grow. He had been fine earlier, when she snuck out of his arms and their bed to use the bathroom. Her “business” took longer than she would’ve liked, and at some point she had a bad feeling that something was wrong, which was only confirmed when she returned to the bedroom.

Jack had been a terrible sight, his body contorted and tangled in the sheets, his face twisted with panic and desperation. He croaked out her name and half-mumbled pleas that broke her heart. His hands weakly groped at the sheets until she snatched them up to hold as she roused him awake.

Alice could see the fear still haunting his dark eyes despite his attempts to soften it for her sake, making her heart ache for him all the more.  “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Oh, no, I don’t think that’s really necessary,” Jack said quickly. “It’s just a dream, and dreams can’t hurt us because they’re not real. They don’t ever have to be real…”

That last sentence was spoken under his breath, obviously not meant for Alice to hear, but she caught it all the same. “Yeah, I know that,” she said, “but that doesn’t mean they can’t make us feel bad. If something’s bothering you, I want to help.”

Jack hesitated, his resolve wavering in the light of his sunshine’s concern for him. He knew that he had to be perfect for her, to show only his best sides to her, but he could feel how much she ached to help him. A guilty part of him craved that feeling, especially when he could remember just how cold it was without her in his nightmare. “I… I don’t… I-I mean I appreciate it, sunspot, really, but I just…”

The feeling of Alice combing her fingers through his hair made it difficult for Jack to focus on his excuses, and his rambling eventually trailed off. She touched him so gently, stroking his head and drawing him even closer to her. She closed her eyes as she rested her forehead lightly against his, making him just that much more aware of her softness and warmth. He breathed her in, relishing in that familiar combination of sugar cookies, vanilla cupcakes, and something else that was distinctly Alice.

“I love you, Jack,” Alice said, her tender words sending a jolt through Jack that caused his heart to flutter. “You’re my partner, and my best friend. I’m here for you… whether you’re okay or not.”

Jack recognized the words that he told to her once upon a time, back when she was still hiding her pain from him, too afraid to let him or anyone else see her weakness. It made him waver. A part of him wanted to break down, to collapse into her arms and just unleash all those terrifying tangled up feelings twisted up inside his heart, but those feelings were too big, too horrible for him to even think about. How could he ever dare to risk crushing her under the weight of everything he had been through? How could he dare risk chasing her away showing her anything less than the very best version of himself?

He couldn’t go back to that hell. He could never risk losing his sunshine.

When it was clear that Jack was reluctant to speak, Alice continued in a gentle voice. “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it.” She leaned back just enough that she could kiss his forehead. “Just don’t force yourself to pretend you’re okay when you’re not. I’m not going anywhere.”

Jack closed his eyes and savored the feeling of her lips on his skin. Alice pressed soft kisses all across his face, making sure no spot was left feeling unloved. She finished by meeting his lips with hers, and he was only too eager to return the kiss to show his love in return.

When Alice eventually drew back to end the kiss, Jack couldn’t help but give chase, snatching up just one more quick peck before he could regain enough self-control to let her catch her breath. She looked up at him with a lopsided smile and lightly tapped his nose. “I love you whether you’re okay or not, starlight.”

Those words were his undoing. Although Jack desperately refused to break, in that moment he allowed himself to bend. “I love you too, sunshine… more than you’ll ever know.”

Alice offered Jack a lopsided smile. “Well then, I guess I’ll have to stick around if I want to find out just how much you love me,” she teased lightly.

Jack chuckled softly. “Nothing would make me happier, Alice.”

Alice drew him in closer, and Jack allowed her to guide him to rest his head on her chest. Her heartbeat thrummed against his ear along with her breaths, as her soft warmth cradled him and her sweet smell made her so much more aware of her. She was so close, her soft curves so tempting. He could drown himself in her, in that intense love and desire that came when their bodies meshed just perfectly together.

It was so tempting; they were both barely dressed. Alice was wearing only his shirt and a pair of panties while Jack had only his boxers on. It would be all too easy for him to just tear their clothes away and make love to his sunshine until he forgot everything but her name.

It was tempting, but Jack hesitated. This moment between them felt intimate in a way that was different than lovemaking but just as powerful, and he wanted to savor it just a little while longer.

That was when Alice began to sing, startling Jack. It was a song that he didn’t recognize, something soft and soothing, likely a lullaby. He was so taken aback by hearing her sing for him that the words failed to register at first, and all he could focus on was the warmth of her voice washing over him.

Eventually Jack caught the lyrics as well. It was a sweet song, one that promised that no matter what storms may rage or tears may fall, she would stay with him, and everything would be fine in the morning.

Her voice was beautiful, and the song Alice sang was sweeter than anything Jack had ever heard before. He melted into her, and his heart squeezed every time she repeated that she would be there with him, tonight and tomorrow. He keenly felt just how much she loved him, the warmth of her love filling him up like nothing else ever could. He made sure to share his love and gratitude in return, wanting to make her feel just as special and loved as she did for him. He would have said as much, but he didn’t dare interrupt this private concert that she sang only for him.

Instead, Jack silently thanked God for finally allowing an angel to save him from hell and bring him to this heaven made from their love. More than God, he thanked Alice for finding him, saving him, and loving him just as much as he loved her.

[archivallyfound09]

Back in the Cockpit, pt. 1

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x reader (no y/n, callsign is Voodoo)

Summary: An old pilot friend of Nat's comes to town to party away some of her stress, but decides to get more tangled up than she intended.

Warnings: Everything is Mature, I'll mark explicit. Swearing, drinking, 18+ only.

A/N: I seem to have a few fluffy things going on at the same time. This is not one of those :) Let me know if you'd like to see more than just Hangman involved.

"Nat! Nat! I swear to GODDDD, I know you can hear me!!" You banged a bit harder than intended on the bathroom door, the sound of a woman on the other side humming to herself, wholly unphased.

"I'm sorrrrrryyyyyyy," you groaned and slid down the door. No sooner had your ass his the floor than the door behind you opened, laying you out halfway into the bathroom. An amused Natasha looked down at you, smirking.

"You're sorry for..." she prompted.

"I'm sorry for saying that F/18's are the stupidest planes."

"...and?"

You groaned and closed your eyes, throwing your forearm over your face in agony.

"AND," you growled, "Navy pilots are better than Air Force."

Nat grinned and all but slammed the door in your face.

"Get in here and brush your teeth, loser. Can't have you reek of Air Force bullshit if you're coming out with me tonight..."

--------

You looked down at yourself, pleased with the choice of attire: short, distressed jean shorts and a white tanktop. Nat had chastised you for wearing a bright red bra under it initially, and now, seeing not just pilots but a few higher ranks, you were glad you had listened to your old roommate.

"Oh good, they already took over the pool tables in the back. Want a beer?"

You looked at her incredulously which earned you a hard shove to the arm. You rolled your eyes and pushed past her, heading to the very full bartop. As you waited, you looked around, shocked that one a Wednesday night it was this crowded. When Nat finally appeared next to you, you were pleasantly surprised that you jumped the list to get your drinks.

"Thanks Penny. Oh, this is an old friend of mine from way back. She ended up abandoning the Navy to fly with Chair Force," Nat made a gagging noise and Penny laughed as you took her hand in a polite shake.

"My disdain for water meant the Navy didn't care if I could fly- they cared that I wouldn't land on a boat," you offered, earning another laugh.

"You might be the sanest one in here," Penny muttered, giving you a wink and handing you both pints, the condensation already dripping down in the warmth of the bar. You nodded and raised a glass to her as you then turned to Nat.

"You sure you want to do this? I could tell horrible awful stories about you in boot and all about that one time with the rear admiral's son and-"

She knew you were rambling and was quick to cut you off.

"- and I could tell them about your summer spent with the same rear admiral's son. Dude, relax. Just work colleagues bonded over trauma and terror. Besides, how often if it that I actually get to see you? If they suck, we'll leave and get drunk and watch Law and Order or something."

You rolled your eyes, but took a deep breath. You weren't exactly know for having a ton of friends around. Once the party girl now the military pilot, you were known for getting a job done, celebrating the job well done, and then going home to decompress. Only Nat seemed to be able to bring you out without the prerequisite of a job.

You hadn't realized that you had been slowly shuffling through the crowd behind Nat and you had finally landed at the pool tables in the back.

"Yo Phoenix! Who's your friend?" mixed immediately with "Hello, Legs! Haven't seen you around here!" "Please GOD don't be military!"

Phoenix shot the crew of three off to your right a death glare. You'd late learn that the very harmless catcalls were from Fanboy, Payback and Coyote. You smirked, grateful for the somewhat warm reception. What you weren't anticipating was seeing another friendly face that you recognized.

"Bob!" The entire group froze, two pilots parted away like the Red Sea to reveal a very embarrassed WSO sitting on a barstool, his beer gripped in two hands, glasses starting to slip off his nose. In a few quick strides you had entered into the pit of Naval aviators and were hugging a now standing Bob.

You were sure of the blush on his cheeks and confirmed it as you pulled out of the tight hug. He smiled with a gulp and the softened under your gaze.

"Nice to see you again, Voodoo," his small voice piped out. Your callsign got a few head turns and someone groaned "oh god, she is military...."

"So, Bobby boy, you gonna introduce me to your friends?" You looked around the group that was now surrounding you, smirking at Nat as she sipped on her beer, happy to see you settle in so quickly. Bob quickly stumbled through all the callsigns around you and you earned a few overcharming responses from Harvard, Yale, Fanboy, and Rooster.

As you started to answer a few questions about your background and how you knew Nat from training before you transferred branches, when you heard a voice near the bar that caused everyone around you to groan.

"Well, well, as I live a breathe...Bobby's got a cute little thing here, doesn't he?" He clapped Rooster on the shoulder who immediately shrugged off and sidestepped away. You watched in amusement from your perch, splitting the small stool with the WSO.

"S-she's not with me, Hangman."

"Yeah, she's with me."

Nat's voice rang out, but the tall blond gentleman in front of you didn't move his eyes from yours. He quirked an impressed and amused eyebrow, but never wavered in his gaze.

"Good for you, Phoenix. Glad you finally found someone who can make you happy." Your met his smirk and rolled your eyes. You noted the Texan drawl that oozed out of his lips and soon found yourself staring at those rather than his emerald eyes.

"Name's Voodoo," you automatically roze up, hand outstretched, a coy smirk on your lips. His hand quickly engulfed yours as he looked down amusedly at you. You treated him to one more gratuitous eye roll before striding past him with a small shove of your shoulder.

"Move it, Hangman, I've got another beer with my name on it and you're in the way."

---------

It became abundantly clear that even though there was training tomorrow, this crew knew how to drink. You were pleased that you hadn't stopped laughing after your second beer. You had officially gotten worse at pool (much to Nat's enjoyment), but your dart skills had gone up a bit. After some friendly drinking wagers, you decided you needed some air.

Your head started to swim a bit as you leaned against the railing, watching the moon reflect in the crashing waves, the rest of the world looking nothing but black. You sighed- you had been in Colorado as an instructor lately and missed the ocean. Your sabbatical break had led you all over, but you were most excited to be back with Nat and near the water again.

"Hey there."

You whipped around on instinct, ready to clock whoever had just interrupted your nice drunk time with the ocean. It wouldn't have been the first bar fight you had been in, but, no longer being 22 meant it would hurt a lot more in the recovery. You were met with the same arrogant blond as before. You couldn't help the relief you felt, but you showed it as nothing more than a smirk.

"What do you want, Bagman?" You opted for Nat's nickname for the cocky pilot. He chuckled, but didn't more, standing almost too straight. Your face softened a bit and you would forever blame the beer-ga-rita that Coyote had convinced you to try.

"What do you-"

You hadn't even gotten the words out when, in two quick steps, Hangman closed the space between the two of you, hands on either side of your chin, lips smooth and hot against yours, noses pressed together tightly. Normally, this would've earned him a hard box to the ears or at least a slap and a kick to the groin, but your body reacted faster than your brain.

Your hands flew into his hair and immediately deepened the kiss, his tongue searing and tasting like beer against yours. You couldn't help the small moan that escaped when one of his hands dropped down around your neck, fingers imperceptibly tightening. He logged the information away, smiling into the kiss.

You both pulled away breathless, his hair looking disheveled, eyes blown to be almost black, cheeks tinged pink. You noticed quickly that both of your heaving chests were in sync and that one hand still rested near your throat. He started to caress your throat and you fought the instinctive reaction to close your eyes.

It was then that you heard your name called from inside the bar. The reality of your situation and location was flooding into all your senses. You took a step back from Hangman, a quick flash of fear shared, and then he turned to the balcony and you started in for the door.

"Where the hell you been?!" Nat laughed, the loudness of her question betraying the drinks she had consumed. You laughed, blocking her from going out to the patio.

"Right here! Just needed some air, Nat, no worries."

She paused, not sure if she believed you, but after a side hug and you starting for the door, she tuned out the voice in her head. She knew you were working through some things (career-wise, life-wise, love-wise), and she knew it better to give you some space.

As long as you weren't jumping in bed with someone again.

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

[that-left-turn]

Oh my, I really enjoyed tumblr more than other sm because usually people are only occupying themselves with things they love and interact with mutuals. It's sad that discourses of Twitter/X are now here too.

It's nice that you're taking your time to answer every anon especially because it's always very thorough but if we're starting to go to other fandoms and asking why people are doing this and that even when they never interacted with them is annoying at some point.

Yes, out of 1000 people in a fandom are 10 asshats. That goes for EVERY fandom.

I'm sorry I've annoyed you. The asks were unexpected, but I've only responded to what's in my inbox... (I guess that makes me an agony aunt(ie)? 🤪) Regardless, I'll happily talk about less depressing Caryl-y things if some anon wants that.

Due to an ask (a while back) about Stick Figures, I opened the outline and realized that it's very weird to start a chapter with smut. Plot focused smut, even. Do people reread a fic when it gets an unexpected update? A sudden sex scene with no buildup (unless you're coming off reading the previous chapters) seems like a belly flop from the high dive and I can't move it to later in the chapter because I have to keep pace with the season.

There's something else (which I wish I had addressed earlier) that also bothers me about this story. It's not big enough to warrant a rewrite, especially since I want to finish the fic in hopefully three chapters, but the lack of this minor arc also makes it less than. I guess it's normal to wish you were better, but coupled with the awkward(ly positioned) sex scene, it feels like my shortcomings are having a laugh at my expense. 🎪🤹‍♀️🎟️ 🙄

Anyway, the Stick Figures sex scene has me pondering what a canon scene mid-S11 would've, could've... should've(?) looked like. It has to deliver emotional payoff for fans but still leave room for further character development and engagement, and the spinoff. (More to think about than the straight-up gratification at the end of a fic.) Caryl sex would have to be a scene aimed at adults—emotional maturity, not ratings-wise—because there are some heavy topics to lift and these two characters are middle-aged, so their concerns are different from reasonably well-adjusted 30-somethings who haven't had false starts and do-overs.

I'm not sure what it would've looked like in the hands of someone who wanted McReedus to put their chemistry on the back burner. I guess there might also be an overwhelming fear with slow burn and delaying viewer gratification this long, that no matter what TPTB do, it won't be enough. Fans have had time to build up expectations and various head canons for how it should go. A mixed audience reception this late in the game is not good. Caryl needs a big statement.

[glitterandmoondustofficial]

Side to Side

Chapter 253: This Wasn’t Supposed To Happen

Notes:

Characters: Law, Doflamingo Rating: Mature Warnings: Language, Hallucinations, Physical Trauma, Gore, Death Notes: *runs away like Ben Wyatt*

“Hey, loser,” Ruby kissed Law awake. “Time to wake up.”

Law blinked his eyes open, no longer feeling pain or misery. “Ruby?” He reached out and cupped her cheek. “You’re here?”

“Of course, I am! You must’ve had a nightmare,” she smiled and kissed his nose.

“I...guess,” he swallowed. “I dreamt we went against Doflamingo. I couldn’t find you anywhere. I thought…I thought Doflamingo did something to you.”

Ruby smiled softly at him. She leaned in and kissed his lips softly. “I’m here. I’m with you.”

Law felt himself sigh in relief. He rubbed her cheek with his thumb. He paused when he saw something red on her cheek where his hand was. He frowned and removed his hand.

A red handprint stained her cheek.

His eyes widened and his breath got caught in his throat.

“Law? What’s wrong?”

“What’s- Ah!” He felt his heart squeeze in pain. He looked at his hands and saw that they were covered in blood. He looked back up to Ruby only to see she was gone. “Ruby?!” He cried out her name desperately. “Ruby?” He whimpered.

He blinked the tears in his eyes away only to realize he wasn’t in his bedroom. He focused his vision and looked up. He felt his stomach drop. He was in Dressrosa and it had gone to shit. Law sat handcuffed to Doflamingo’s Heart Seat, hours after he had been taunted and goaded, with bullets embedded in his torso. He was surrounded by the members of the Family, including Doflamingo’s wife. She was staring at Law anxiously from her corner as Doflamingo smugly laughed at him. She shifted her weight from one leg to the other, looking like she had something to say but obviously wouldn’t.

And worse, Ruby was still nowhere to be found and Law’s gut told him the obnoxiously large man in the room did something to her.

“Oh-ho, he’s awake,” Doflamingo snickered. Law was in…a lot of pain. Being shot was definitely not a great experience. His heart was also in a lot of pain. He needed to recover after what Vergo did and he had pretty much no time to do so. Ruby was going to kill him. She was going to lecture him and cry about it.

Law frowned. He wanted to see her.

Law hardened his gaze and glared at Doflamingo.

“What did you do to her?”

Doflamingo chuckled. “To who? I don’t know who you’re talking about.”

“You’re full of shit. You know exactly who I’m talking about!”

Doflamingo let out a truly evil laugh. “Your little spy is dead, Law.” Was what Doflamingo had told him with a sick grin on his face. “She died believing in you and your goal, isn’t that funny? She did put up quite a fight, logias are annoying like that.”

“Bullshit.” Law refused to believe him, pure denial coursing through his veins.

Doflamingo chuckled at him. “She wouldn’t have gone down to the likes of you.”

“Fufufu, if you want, I could give you her heart. Something to remember her by.” He waved his hand and on cue, Buffalo literally presented a heart on a platter.

“Bullshit,” Law snarled. “I'm not an idiot. That could be anybody’s heart. There’s no proof that it’s hers.”

“Of course you would say that. You’re too smart to take things at face value.” He reached into his pocket with a sick smirk on his face. “Well, if a heart isn’t good enough. How about this?”

He presented him with a necklace. Law stared at it confused for a moment. He focused on it. A long gold chain with a…ring on it.

Wait.

He stared at the ring closely. Doflamingo smirked and wrapped the necklace around Law’s neck.

That was her flower ring. Her promise ring. That was Ruby’s ring.

Law stopped breathing. He felt the color drain from his face and a cold sweat roll down his cheek. His ears were loudly ringing. He swallowed the bile that tried to force itself up.

No. No. No no no no no.

This could not be happening.

Not to her. Not to Ruby.

Law clenched his fists in anger and agony. He swore he spoke to her over the den den mushi not that long ago. He heard her voice not that long ago. Her hushed voice in the middle of the night. Her soft giggle when he told her he loved her like it was a secret.

She couldn’t be dead.

He promised he would protect her. How did he convince himself to let her go on this stupid mission? Why did he let her go? How did he manage to convince himself that she wouldn’t have to fight here? Was he so obsessed with his revenge that...it took her life?

He never should have agreed to let her play spy for him. He never should have had her so close to the enemy. Doflamingo took another one of his loved ones from him, and it was his fault.

He swallowed again. The last two years played in his mind, their conversations, their arguments, her soft kisses and gentle touches. Her injuries and his firm “you’re not fighting anymore.” Laughing together and whispering heated “I love you’s” as they were wrapped around each other.

He was sure Doflamingo was talking at him, but Law ignored him, too trapped in his own spiraling thoughts. All he could think about was how he dragged her into his mess. How his own personal demons got her killed. He swore she’d never suffer over this. He promised Ikkaku that he’d bring her home. He promised himself that he would bring her home.

He had been so selfish. He wanted her. He had wanted their relationship. Even though he was focused on Doflamingo, he still wanted her to be his. And look at what happened to her. She wouldn’t have done this for him if she wasn’t with him. She wouldn’t have put herself at risk if she wasn’t with him.

If it wasn’t for their relationship, that he initiated, she wouldn’t have been on Dressrosa. She’d be his nakama, but she wouldn’t be his. She’d be on Zou. She’d be safe. She’d be alive.

Why did he have to love her?

He tuned out Doflamingo’s laughter, only focusing on remembering Ruby. He felt sick to his stomach. He refused to break down and cry here. He knew that’s what Doflamingo wanted. He wanted Law vulnerable and weak.

And he felt it. He felt completely and utterly hopeless. His heart might as well be on that platter.

“Law,” Ruby giggled. She grabbed his hands and pulled him so that they were standing in the ocean.

“Is this a murder/suicide? At least do something less obvious.”

She kicked water at him. “Don’t be mean.” 

She jumped up and he caught her. She wrapped her arms and legs around him and grinned at him. She leaned in and kissed him. It was a slow and passionate kiss, one they could do when no one was looking. She pulled away with a giggle.

“What’s that all about?”

“I love you, Law.” She kissed his forehead. “I’d do anything for you.”

“Anything?” He smirked. He leaned up and nuzzled her nose.

“Yeah. You’re the love of my life. Everything that has ever happened to me has led me to you, and I couldn’t be happier.”

Law’s smirk vanished, his thoughts of what he was going to make her do went away with his smirk. He blushed and stared at her. “Yeah?”

“Yep!” She said happily. “I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you so much, Trafalgar D. Water Law. I’m going to spend the rest of my life with you.” She kissed him again, making him lose his balance a little. She pulled away and grinned at him.

He cleared his throat. “I’ll make sure that you’ll always be this happy, for as long as I live.” They kissed slowly, their passion only growing as the sun set in the distance.

He let out a shaky breath and bit his lip hard to stop himself from crying. He just needed to focus. He needed to focus on killing Doflamingo. If things go right the Straw Hats will destroy the SMILE factory and Doflamingo will inevitably fall. He supposed he got his wish, carrying out Cora-san’s will.

He supposed if he died he could be with Ruby again. He could beg her for forgiveness, even though he certainly didn’t deserve it.

But she wasn’t supposed to die. She was supposed to live on with the Heart Pirates in the New World. He never wanted her to die.

Ruby was dead, and it was his fault.

Law closed his eyes; he gave up on rationality, he gave up on trying to survive. If he got out of here, he was going to kill Doflamingo, and it wasn’t looking like he’d leave this chair. He opened his eyes slowly glaring up at Doflamingo.

He was going to wipe that fucking smirk off his face if it was the last thing he did.

[distortedkilling]

Mahito's value in cursed spirits I feel like goes through its own evolution. Something I've mentioned in another post but I still have thoughts on.

While with his gaggle of fucks, he's much more influenced to keep in mind the bigger picture beyond himself. The understanding of 'sacrifice for the greater good or evil' in terms of the 'bust Sukuna out' plan is one he wholly has no issue with. He'll die for a cause, no biggie, right? He reflects the ugliest parts of humanity back upon them but he gets along with curses who embrace their true nature. A willingness to be awful and be all the things Mahito is born from - the only things he knows how to be. Even if for the majority of his role he only acts upon the hatred and the satisfaction he gets out of generating negativity (hatred, fear, mistrust, disgust especially) in others. It isn't until his end that he finally experiences what he has always been suspicious of (betrayal) and what he has always instilled in the majority of others (fear).

To circle back though, the willingness to die for a cause is on the table. Especially when the others are present and willing to do the same. His confidence that his squad can handle surviving Gojo I think highlights his regard for the others. This isn't in the sense of, 'oh, Mahito is baby girl - so much softer than we think!' because no, he's an awful evil little fuck. But even with all his fuckery, it's a shining moment that he has enough regard about some others.

And in addition to that, while I think Mahito sort of regards the loss of his chucklefucks in his own way, I don't think it's in the same sentimental manner humans do. It's more of an awareness that guides him into doubling down. The plan to get Sukuna is done with, tossed out and trashed. His gang is dead (save for Geto). The disaster curses all instilled in him a confidence that he was their best chance of turning the tide and giving curses the advantage in the world again.

Only now he has no bumper rails to guide him down the alley. Mahito is still young, he's selfish and impulsive - most of all, he's hungry for his own growth. To understand the entirety of his own soul. And I think that's where things get really interesting. The plan becomes becoming the best/worst curse he can be in order to succeed. It means going down a new path suddenly, without restraint, to accomplish the mission. There's nothing he can do about his crew being dead now, but he can become more. Just like they knew he could be.

I'm not going to sit here and say it's a selfless gesture on Mahito's behalf, that would be silly. But I think there's an interesting acknowledgement within it of his evolving maturity as he grows into himself very quickly.

In a way, Todo's speech to Itadori on lingering over the dead and how it can be insulting to them is something that can be applied to Mahito, too. Even if he could feel agony over the matter, it would still be disrespectful to the efforts vs just getting the fucking job done.

Then you also adopt further parallels into Mahito's growth such as:

I get the difference between s1 frame being domain-related, but the way the scenes are styled with Mahito looking up and Itadori pursuing down I really love. Because on one hand, Mahito is realizing an 'oh shit' moment because he knows his disadvantage (surprised by Itadori and because of that awareness regarding what is about to happening with Sukuna). Whereas on the other, he's grown more confident in his abilities to combat Itadori. Domain be damned - it won't be a repeat of last time.

I think Mahito, despite his youth, was put in charge specifically because of the type of curse he is. Not just human born and therefore extraordinarily potent to their enemies. More specifically, because they knew if anything happened to them they could count on Mahito's nature and desires, left to run rampant, to get things done.

And to be fair, they were right. He did. He succeeded in a lot of ways. I mean that both with the gang, on his own, and even after Geto slurped him up just by extension of Mahito's technique. In the end, curses were victorious even at the cost of all of them.

Mahito may have laughed and been thrilled at the brink of death in s1, but after his growth and truly being pushed he felt the same fear he has instilled in so many. He discovered the value of his own life and purpose and wanted to see it through. His acceptance to die for this cause was one that still existed, it was just more potent when the crew was alive. It was especially more potent when it was the idea of, "hey, we won! Sukuna is out! And now he's killing us, whatever, we did our job." Loss became much harder to face the reality of when it came from someone you hate (Itadori), then when it came from someone you liked but could never fully trust (Geto). As well, the loss of what had been just recently gained - the true understanding of himself.

I think it's very easy to consider Mahito as, "Evil Fuck" because that's what he is. But there's nuances to all things, and I feel like not acknowledging the bare minimum of that - as in, curses have souls, discredits their characterization and the entire point of them/their personalities.

[gortashs-skidmark]

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙂𝙖𝙩𝙚'𝙨 𝙈𝙤𝙪𝙩𝙝 - ρα૨ƭ 1 ♥ BG3 x READER ♥

This is a series :) I will slowly update this on tumblr, and on Quotev. I don't like Wattpad and Ao3 has a very slow waiting list. tumblr won't let me post the person-in-the- beginnings threats so this will be censored version. It wouldn't let me add the part about sewer rats either. here's a map, for reference of the story! ♥ PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, Premise: Thrown into an unfamiliar realm (BG3) you have to navigate to survive. It is not going so hot for you. ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ I tried to make this LESS "omg characters!! I love my life rn!! I'm obsessed and own 7 t-shirts!! im so smol bean" and MORE "oh fuck. what do I do in magical medieval times" ♥

Gender Neutral, un-descriptive looks, No name, MATURE THEMES ♥ CONTENT WARNING: Cussing, fires, death, description of dead bodies, death threats ♥ Enough YAPPING. ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ You were crying. Wailing. Writhing in agony. You could feel your body die in the moment you had been thrown into this Realm. It felt fictional, it was fictional. Your skin was gaunt, light blue veins ran through your body, and you could see it in the muddy puddle below you.  On your knees you shook, your body wracked with ache. Your vocals strained, resting, and wailing again. You didn’t shed tears when you cried. You couldn’t, you couldn’t even breathe. Your body was among the flames consuming your mind and body. Your clothes were the tight crop top that complimented your midriff, short socks on your feet, and high waisted baggy sweats. It was what you briefly remember wearing before dinner-time in your house. The only difference was the bandages covering your midriff, shoulders and neck, forearms, and encasing the lower half of your shins. Your ache shortly ceased, replaced only with painful emotions ravaging your body now. Your eyes couldn’t focus properly. You saw black and brown tattered pants rush around you. You couldn’t focus on their yelling, you felt fear. "Heretics!"  That fear became the only thing you felt. A dreadful aura wrapped around your body, you were going to be murdered. Alone. In an unfamiliar place. That fear warped into something bigger, your body quaffed your physical strength and energy. Zapping it from you. Turning it into the flames you witnessed on your body. Pillaring in blue and black flames, everything went. You felt the emotions in the cold flames licking around your body. You felt no harm, not even threatened by it. It was your friend and your inferno, a bond forged in sickly emotions and twisted circumstances.  You heard screams and saw bodies drop and actively char in front of you. You could only pathetically whisper “no, no, no..”’s with your crying, drool on your chin, your voice was too weak to speak real sentences.  You felt a big booming presence reach at you among the flames. Like the last ones, but stronger, nauseating, overwhelming.  White shifty sand and a glittery red figure ran past your vision. “NO, NO, YOU!!” Its hands held its head, then pointed a long white sharp finger towards you. It was all muffled. "AND EVEN CYRIC WILL PRAISE MY NAME!” It spoke loud, and in an ever-changing lilted tone. It giggled, cackled even, between phrases. It sneered and smiled at the end. You couldn’t quite focus on what it was. You simply felt more fear, and the blue and black flames rose. You heard a pitched scream of agony and the white and red figure vanished. It left no trail. It went silent. The flames licking your body and the ground withered into tame blue wisps of inferno. There were no movements that you could register. It was still.  You didn’t move. For a time.  Your knees started to ache on the cold sludge you knelt on. Putting your hands on your knees for leverage, you lifted yourself off the ground. A wave of dizziness flowed through your body and brain, you stilled yourself as much as possible. It passed, and you blinked. You saw. You saw you were in a moldy, moss-ridden environment. Man made, bricks building the floors, to the walls, to the curved ceiling. It was a sewer. You were in a sewer.  It reeked but your body couldn’t bring itself to gag. You saw black char and blue lit ash decorating on the bodies in front of you. Husks. Bodies, simply bodies, without a soul or purpose now. You sniffed and placed shaky hands on your hips.  “Well.” you whispered in a cracked voice to yourself. Lifting your head you looked at your surroundings once more, the sewer tunnel had three different paths you could take. One thing at a time, you thought. You chose to go right.  To Be Continued if tumblr let's me fucking use gross adjectives without restriction...

[berenwrites]

Whole New Us Ch14 - Stranger Things - Steddie

Whole New Us: Trauma Bonded and Beyond

A/N: Please be aware still bad things happening to Steve - I wouldn't say any worse than what the actual show likes to put him through (s3 I'm looking at you).

Also on AO3 | Or here CH1 | CH2 | CH3 | CH4 | CH5 | CH6 | CH7 | CH8 | CH9 | CH10 | CH11 | CH12 | CH13 | CH14 | CH15 | CH16 | CH17 | CH18 | CH19 | CH20 | CH21 | CH22 | CH23 | CH24 | CH25 (Mature) | CH25 (Fade to black) COMPLETE

Summary: Steve has been ignoring his own problems, he’s been busy. They’ve all been busy, preoccupied with fixing everything that was broken. Vecna has been defeated, but the Upside Down is still there, and the gates are not completely closed even though Hawkins has almost returned to normal. It’s been a couple of months and the aftereffects of Steve’s encounter with the demobats is about to come back to bite him. However, it also brings some unexpected hope.

Pairing: steddie (Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson)

Rating: Teen (with mature content in later chapters)

Chapter 14.    None Left Behind

Nothing made any sense anymore. There was pain, there was humiliation, there was degradation, and all Steve could do was endure. He was a thing to be studied. A lab specimen to be dissected. It didn’t matter how he begged, how he pleaded, nothing seemed to matter to his captors. They took their samples: a fang, a claw, skin, blood. They did their tests: drugs, reflexes, pain tolerance.

They seemed determined to figure out how he worked, taking him to the very limit without actually killing him.

Time was measured in agony, and it felt like a lifetime.

“No more, please,” he begged over and over again, voice cracked and almost gone from all the screaming.

It never did any good.

When he heard gunfire and sirens, it barely registered. Not until he felt a presence. Eddie, it was Eddie, and it was the only thing that his tangled thoughts could grasp onto.

“Get the fuck away from him,” he heard someone growl.

As hands touched him this time he whimpered. Eddie’s presence solidified in his head, dragging him back from the abyss.

“Steve, oh god, Steve, can you hear me?” Eddie’s desperate words made it into his brain.

All he could manage was a small moan.

“Dustin, we have to get him down,” Eddie said.

“I’m trying,” came back Dustin’s familiar voice, “I don’t speak Russian. If I hit the wrong button, I might hurt him.”

A distant explosion shook the room. Steve whined as Eddie’s touch left him and someone gasped.

“Show him,” Eddie’s voice was full of menace, “or I promise, I’ll skin you alive before eating your heart.”

He tried to see, to understand what was happening, but his eyes refused to focus. Everything was a mess of confusion. Then he was falling, and he couldn’t stop, but strong arms caught him.

“Steve, Stevie,” Eddie sounded desperate. “Fuck, what did they do to you.”

“Eddie, we have to get out of here,” Dustin’s worried voice made it through the fog. “There are more soldiers coming.”

“Fuck, we’ll be sitting ducks. I can’t carry Steve and deal with Russians,” Eddie said. “Dustin, if you’re squeamish, turn away now.”

“What? Why?” Dustin asked.

“Steve, I’m so sorry, this is going to hurt,” Eddie told him, cradling him gently.

The smell of blood hit him first, before warm wetness dripped into his mouth. The taste exploded on his tongue, and he swallowed automatically as every fibre of his being screamed Eddie at him. He arched away from Eddie as his system lit up like the fourth of July and every sense he had turned on at one hundred. The fog lifted from his brain, burned away by a firestorm, and he came down with a thump, gasping for breath.

Every hurt in his body telegraphed like it was new. He clung to Eddie as he shook, and Eddie clung back.

“Holy fuck, that hurts,” he gasped out as it finally began to fade.

“God I’m sorry,” Eddie said.

“Fine,” he promised, patting his boyfriend’s arm as the overload began to ease.

“Not fine,” Eddie told him, stroking the side of his face, “but you’re with me?”

Steve nodded.

“We have to move,” Eddie said.

Steve nodded again.

Eddie helped him to stand. He swayed, but he stayed on his feet. For the first time he got a real look at the lab and the mess it was in. The woman who had tortured him was cowering in the corner, two guards and the thug with the cattle prod were unconscious on the floor and everyone else was gone. One of the men definitely had claw marks.

“God, you look like shit,” Dustin said, looking at him from across the room next to the computers.

“Probably look better than I feel,” he said, blinking back dizziness and nausea.

How Eddie and Dustin were here was a question he really wanted an answer to, but they didn’t have time. More gun fire came from somewhere outside the room. Eddie’s blood was coursing through him like a wildfire, but he knew it wouldn’t last for long.

“Let’s get out of here,” he said, pushing the otherness to the surface.

“I’ll clear the way,” Eddie said, “you stay with Dustin, keep him safe until we get back to the others.”

It went against every instinct Steve had to let someone else go into danger in front of him, but he also knew Eddie was right. He wasn’t strong or fast enough to take the lead. He had so many questions, but right now was about survival.

As soon as they slipped into the corridor, Eddie was off. The two soldiers coming towards them had no chance as Eddie moved faster than they could react. Both went flying as Steve kept himself between Dustin and the melee, following his boyfriend down the corridor.

Now that he was properly aware, the sirens were loud, and it was clear the base was in pandemonium. It looked hauntingly like the one under Starcourt had, although not as grand.

“Where the hell are we?” Steve asked as they ran down the corridor.

“Russian base under a farm about twenty miles out of town,” Dustin told him. “Best guess, they built it at the same time as Starcourt as a backup. How the fuck the government missed it I will never know.”

“Language,” Steve said automatically, which made him want to laugh hysterically, because it was so not the time.

He definitely wasn’t completely with it. As he was worrying about not being able to protect Dustin if it came to it, a door they were running past opened. A man with a gun pointed it at them and Steve reacted without thinking. With one hand he grabbed the gun, with the other the front of the soldier’s uniform and threw him hard across the corridor. There was a satisfying crunch before the man slumped senseless to the floor.

“Any idea how to use this?” Steve asked about the gun in his hand.

“Nope,” Dustin replied.

“Don’t think I could hit anything even if I did,” he said and bent the barrel slightly before tossing the weapon away.

Eddie was waiting for them at a door at the end of the corridor.

“This way,” Eddie said, leaning through the door before leading them into another corridor.

Steve was pretty sure he had never seen anything as impressive as the way Eddie took out another soldier.

“How did you find me?” he asked as Eddie went on ahead, dealing with anyone stupid enough to get in his way as Steve and Dustin followed.

“Eddie,” Dustin explained. “When they grabbed you, they tried to grab him too, but he got your warning. We contacted Owens, but they were taking too long, so we came anyway. Eddie led us right here. This base isn’t deep, it’s just under the surface and we broke in through some vents. Took us a while to figure out how, sorry. The others are causing a diversion so Eddie and me could get to you before anyone did anything drastic.”

“Appreciate that,” he said, but he stumbled into the wall.

“Need help?” Dustin asked, by his side immediately.

He shook his head, refusing to give in, in the slightest.

“Let’s go,” was all he said.

After a couple more turns, they made it into a bigger room, one that had a large door at the far end. Steve had to assume it was the way out because there were four heavily armed guards on it. However, they didn’t have to worry about it for long, because the three men and one woman flew backwards and thudded against what they were guarding. Eddie zeroed in on them to make sure they stayed down as El appeared from the other corridor off the room, flanked by Hopper, Robin, Nancy, Mike, Lucas, Gareth, Jeff, and Frank.

Robin crossed to him immediately as the others flooded into the room.

“Get that door open,” Hopper barked.

Dustin and Nancy headed to the front as Robin pulled Steve into a hug.

“I’m okay,” he told her.

“Yeah, not buying that,” Robin replied. “You’re paler than my Great Aunt Rose and she’s ninety and hasn’t seen the sun in decades.”

“Be fine once we get out,” he did his best to reassure her.

Rather than reply she reached out and pulled off one of the sticky pads he hadn’t even noticed was still attached to his chest. Most of the monitoring devices must have come off when Eddie and Dustin freed him, but apparently one hadn’t.

“We need a key card like at Starcourt,” Dustin called out.

“Check the guards,” Hopper told him while keeping an eye on the corridors.

Steve couldn’t help noticing that both Jeff and Gareth were holding guns and seemed to know what they were doing. Not what he had expected.

“Got one,” Nancy declared.

She was at the panel and using it before anyone could say anything. The large door began to lift immediately, rising a few inches before more sirens went off and a loud recorded Russian voice began speaking.

“They’re overriding,” Robin yelled even as the door began to close again.

Apparently, El was not having that. She stepped into the middle of the room and threw out her hand with an incredibly determined scowl on her face. The huge metal door shrieked as El forced it upwards, hydraulics hissing and spitting as they failed against her power. Steve could feel her energy in his veins as if he was part of it. They were almost there, almost out, but the tiniest click made it to his ears over the maelstrom.

There was no gap between thought and action as he stepped between El and the sound. Semi-automatic gun fire joined the cacophony and three impacts tried to throw him forward, but he held his ground. Hop turned and fired once, and the gun fire was silenced.

“Run,” El screamed and they all did.

They poured into what Steve realised was a barn, only to be faced with yet more soldiers. It took him a second to realise these ones were in American uniforms.

“That way,” Owen’s said, waving his arm to the left as the soldiers converged on the door.

No one was arguing. Steve kept moving, not even thinking about what had just happened. Only once they were all out of the way and he had reassured himself they were all there, did his higher thoughts start moving again. As the relief they were safe hit, so did the pain. He curled in on himself, sliding down the wall as the damage done to his body finally made it into his head.

“Harrington, don’t you dare,” Eddie was right there instantly.

Strong hands held him in a sitting position as he tried to slump sideways.

“Steve, look at me,” Eddie demanded.

He tried, he really did, but Eddie’s worried face swam in and out of his vision.

“Stupid damn hero complex,” Eddie complained at him. “Stevie, stay with me, you’re not allowed to check out after all the trouble we went to rescue you.”

“Sorry,” he whispered, and he couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore.

“Steve, Steve, fucking wake up,” were the last things he heard as the world faded away.

End of Chapter 14

Chapter 15