#.I KNOW IT ALL WORKED OUT BUT THAT SHIT HUUUURT

[lakesbian]

how do you feel about rose and blakes dynamic and do you have a preferred thorburn of the two

ummm. sweats. ummm. to start with the easy part i like blake better bc he's funny. he's always getting into circumstances that are like if looney tunes were horror. out there running headlong into trees and shit. i don't know if it would be funnier if rose is 4x more competent at not dying than him and he was just having a Skill Issue or if she immediately becomes equally miserable and beset by horrors but i'm sort of getting the vibes that it's going to be the first one. not sans being beset by horrors but probably sans the looney tunes antics. i would love if she also ran headlong into trees though. or was like "i will solve this issue via exsanguination" as blake was wont to do before he died badly and then started immediately sniveling and shivering pathetically like blake did bc she's never bled real blood before and it huuuurts :(.

i would love if i had been paying more attention to blake and rose's dynamic this entire time instead of going Heehee Oatmeal. i'm genuinely going to have to reread this fucking book i'm not kidding. maybe even before worm. like i've been blacked the fuck out i have lost the plot. that said i did form literally all of my opinions about worm by incoherently rambling until i stumbled upon something i decided to actually believe so perhaps doing the same publicly about pact will work. towards the end there blake's paranoia wrt having his identity & body (theyre intertwined!) corroded was really getting to him in like a comically cuntish manner. out there being like yeah i consider rose a friend. wgat if she kills me with demons or creatures though. come on man yeah rose resents you a normal amount for being stuck in a mirror watching you make all of the important decisions nearly entirely w/o her input but she's not going to beset you with Beasts or Creatures. i love how hypocritical and bad he is about admitting what their dynamic actually is to himself while still being deeply afraid that said dynamic will result in him getting crazy murdered. i liked when they had the world's shittest hug :) "you hugging yourself but one of you hates hugs and one of you has literally never had one before" rocks. being so inextricably tied together means that you're gonna piss each other off forever but also have no other first choice but each other when you want a hug in Hell World or someone to guide you through a police station while you're about to pass out and die of blood loss. ithink theyre both like their grandma in different ways probably. i hope when blake gets better from dying badly rose is j ust like full on a straight up diabolist. i hope she's the reason he gets better from dying badly due to straight up diabolism. i love that rose (old) was sort of a freak about feeling Inexorably Alive during fucked up demon summonings i think rose (new) should get to do that also. god i wish i was a rose and blake understander i'm just saying shit. what reading a book too fast does to a motherfucker. i dont know i'm going to have to cook them in my brain after i finish reading there's an opinion in there i can uncover yet

[ashintheairlikesnow]

I am having an INTENSE knee pain day (🥰chronic🥰) might I request Jameson suffering as well, please! It really does help to some degree❤️❤️❤️

Also: Ash could we maybe get a wee lil snippet of Allyn comforting Jameson on a pain day? (Imma got my period today and it huuuurts and now I need to project :'3 but only if you have time and feel inspired, don't feel ever obligated. Luv you, theo <3)

CW: Recovering whumpee, chronic pain, former pet whumpee, brief masochism mention

-

"It's all right," Allyn soothes, laying their hand on the side of his face. Their palm is cool and dry against the heat that flares, his embarrassed flush burning hot as a fever.

"No, it's not," He snaps. He's not angry at them - but at the throbbing ache rolling up his thighs and down his calves, waves crashing on a shore. High tide, he thinks, with a bitter, caustic humor. An acid in his throat he doesn't let out. "Nat gave me money-... was going to buy you a real fucking dinner, but I can't even stand the fuck up-"

His knees are locked, half-bent. His fucking dog legs, made to crawl. He can see the stupid fucking straps, the braces Brute made him wear. He can see how he left them in Brute's house but he didn't really leave them behind.

Allyn runs fingers through his short hair, their nails scratching at his scalp, and he exhales with a shudder at the simple comfort of the sting. "We'll eat here," They say softly. Before he can protest that he can't exactly sit at the table, Allyn adds, "We'll eat on the floor, laying down. Maybe Ms. Yoder will go get the food for us, or something."

"Or something," He whispers, and turns his face away from them. "I'm a fucking mess, Allyn. Go back to the big guy, yeah? Just head downstairs and tell him to take you back. This isn't your shit to deal with. I'm-... I'm not your shit to deal with-"

"No," They reply, taking his chin in hand and turning his eyes back to meet theirs. They smile, their rainwater voice tastes a little grassy on his tongue. The taste of rain in humid green spaces. "No, Jameson. I won't do that. Do you know why?"

"No, I d-don't fucking know." He groans, biting back almost all of the sound. Not quite. Their hands move, then, pulling the blankets back to show his bent fucking legs. They rub their thumbs into his kneecap on the left leg, circles and pressure.

Jameson gasps - the pain doesn't leave but it changes. Becomes something layered instead of flat and overwhelming. They work with one hand while slowly, slowly stretching his leg out to flat on the bed, inch by inch. The muscles protest, twinge, and then knots are worked out a little at a time. It doesn't stop the pain, but it's... bearable.

"Because I am learning in therapy that free means deciding for myself," Allyn says, looking calmly at his other leg as they work on that one, too. Jameson watches them - the sharp angle of their jaw, their soft lips. The wave of their red hair, caught in a clip at the nape of their neck. Everything about them is so fucking elegant.

He might as well be a fucking animal compared to their beauty. He was kind of pretty, once, he thinks - but all that shit was fucked and burned and cut out of him by now. All that's left is scars.

"Deciding what?" His other leg is slowly relaxing, too. He hadn't realized his hands were in fists until he uncurls his fingers and feels a sting in his palms where his nails dug in.

"Who I'm going to be. What I want. What's mine." They rub a thumb into the inside of his thigh, just above his knee, and he shivers at a rush of painful pleasure that blooms as a ball of warmth inside him.

He swallows, turning his head to see them watching him, their blue-gray eyes warm and soft. A tendril of their hair has come free, and he reaches up with aching knuckles to gently tuck it behind their ear.

They turn and kiss the palm of his hand.

"What... What did you decide, in therapy?" His hand tingles where their lips touched. He feels a spike of guilt at feeling this for someone who isn't Nanda, and reminds himself Nat said - and Dr. Berger said - that it's okay to move on.

Even if he was made for Nanda... it's okay to move on and keep going without him. It's okay to want to survive. It's okay to see the light shining in someone new.

"I decided that I like you," They say, simple as that. As if anything is ever simple, for them. They shift, moving into the bed and laying down beside him. They tuck themself under his chin, and the scent of their coconut shampoo mingles with the rainwater taste of their voice. "That I want you. That you're mine."

His eyes close, and he forgets - for just a second - that he is in such blinding pain at all. "Allyn, I-... I look-"

"Handsome. And hurting. But I am handsome and hurting, too." They press their lips to his cheek. "It just looks a little different, in me. I want to lay here with you and eat pizza on the floor and watch a movie with Nat. That's what I want, because all of it happens with you."

He can't open his eyes, or the tears will fall. Instead, he just nods and lays there, the crash of pain in his knees and legs failing to overwhelm him more than the sharp ache of his joy.

[aworldoffandoms]

51 + 35 with Bryce 🥺💕

Authors Note: Please don’t hate me with this one. It’s going to huuuurt. Bryce and MC pairing this time! I had fun writing for Bryce. It was different but fun. 

Hope you enjoy this fic, nonny! 💗

Prompt is: what are you doing here + don’t do this to me

Prompt is in bold.

***

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x F!MC [Nicolette Valentine]

Word Count: 1, 518 (give or take)

Rating: PG (for swearing)

Warnings: No warnings. Just angst. All the angst in this one.

Summary: Bryce comes to explain himself for what he’s done. Will Nicolette let him?

I’m tagging my OH tag list but please let me know if you’d like to stay on it or would like to be removed.

Open Heart Tag: @senseofduties @polishchoicesfan @princess-geek @i-bloody-love-drake-walker @binny1985 @fanficnewbie @x-kyne-x​ @thefluffyphotographer @lilyofchoices @thecordoniandiaries @rainbowsinthestorm @cxld-play @jens-diamondchoices @malakbesharah @hopelessly-shipper @my-heart-beats-for-ya @landofenchantedwonder @sabrinahoffersonsworld @flyawayboo @stanathanxoox @oofchoices @thequeenofcronuts @heauxplesslydevoted @bi-cookie @kingliamsbish @trappedinfandoms @supercoolperson0808 @perriewinklenerdie @riverrune

Disclaimer: All rights reserved to Pixelberry and all characters belong to them.

***

HEARTBREAK

Nicolette scrolls through her Instagram feed, liking a bunch of photos absentmindedly without actually looking at them. She has too much on her mind. Her heart aches. Her muscles are sore and she swears she’s been crying for three days straight with how much her face feels all puffy and red.

She’s disrupted from her idle viewing when there is a knock at the door. She heaves a deep breath before calling out to them. It’s probably Sienna or Aurora, however, she wasn’t sure why they were knocking considering they have keys. 

“Come in! It’s open.”

The figure who steps through the door is the last person Nicolette expects to see and her mouth twists in displeasure. 

“What are you doing here?��� 

Bryce stands in the doorway awkwardly, his posture tense, the lines of his shoulders strung tight like a string pulled taut. The look on Nicolette's face makes his heart ache and makes him feel like shit again. Not that he already feels like shit. He hasn't slept in three days, he needs to wash his hair and the shadow on his jawline clues to the fact that he hasn't bothered to shave.

Nicolette stands for a few seconds, then steps back to let him in the frown still evident on her face. She pads over to the kitchen, Bryce following close behind. He stands on the opposite side of the granite benchtop so he was a few metres away from her spot on the other end, he didn't want to stand near her because whenever he does she flinches away from him.

The air is stale and thick with tension, the clicking of the clock on the wall the only sound permeating the cloud of silence between them. He wants to get rid of the heaviness surrounding them both so Bryce opens his mouth to talk, wanting to apologise about what he did. To find any excuse to make it better but he can’t. He knows what he did was wrong. 

He hates himself for doing it. He never thought he’d be one of those guys.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair, the dirty strands sticking up after his fingers left it and swung down to his side to rest limply against his thigh. There wasn't any time like the present to try and explain himself. 

“Look, Nicolette… I know that I can’t say anything to make this better but I do want you to know that I love you and I—” 

Nicolette slams a hand against the benchtop, the sound reverberating around the room, making Bryce jump at the unexpected sound. Nicolette looks at him, her eyes shining with the unshed tears she promised herself she wouldn’t shed. Not for him. Not for this man who broke her heart so spectacularly.

“Don’t try and say those words to me after what you did,” Nicolette tries to make her voice sound not as pathetic as it does but she can’t stop now after she’s started. She’ll wallow in her heartbreak later.

“You broke whatever we had, Bryce. I loved you. I loved you so goddamn much that I was willing to follow you anywhere. Even follow you after our residencies finished at Edenbrook, to tell with everything else, but y’ know what?” 

Bryce swallows against the lump in his throat, knowing the words that will come out of her mouth. 

“That isn't going to happen...at least not anymore…” Nicolette trails off, puffing out a bitter laugh. “Guess the jokes on me then, huh?” 

Bryce watches as she runs a hand through her hair, the bags underneath her eyes more prominent under the fluorescent lighting. His heart aches for her a little more because he knew that he’s the cause of it. 

There's a smile on her face but its not warm. It's thin, lifeless and self-loathing. “God. Listen to me. I'm not the kind of girl to get hung up on a guy like this! I'm the youngest junior fellow in a world-renowned diagnostics team for chrissake! I am a goddamn amazing doctor and here I am heartbroken over some guy. Pathetic.”

Nicolette shakes her head, turning away from Bryce and closing her eyes, her thumb and forefinger against the bridge of her nose in frustration. 

Bryce's hands twitch to comfort her and he almost does, his feet moving closer to her before he stops himself. He doesn’t want to make the situation worse than it already is.

The heavy silence falls on them again and he needs to say something otherwise he'll never have the courage to do it. 

“I never meant to hurt you like this, Nic. It was just a moment of weakness. I don't know what I was thinking.”

Nicolette scoffs, turning around and pins Bryce with a glare so violent he has to take a step back. 

“You blame this on a short moment of missing clarity? What the hell, Bryce? You think I'm fucking stupid or something?”

“Of course I don't. I just want to state my case.”

Nicolette spreads her arm out in a show of letting him do just that. “I'm not stopping you. Please, enlighten me about this lapse in judgement not that it’s really needed.”

It wasn't lost on Bryce the amount of sarcasm that’s dripping from her tone but Bryce sighs anyway and leans against the countertop, clearing his throat to speak. 

“We were friends in high school and she just so happened to be in Boston for a tech conference and we bumped into each other at Donahue’s and we got talking, we laughed, we drank...a lot, and then the next thing I knew…” 

Nicolette’s fists clench at her sides and Bryce can see her jaw working against her clenched teeth. He really shouldn’t be saying things like this but she said she wanted to hear so he’s telling her. 

Bryce takes a deep breath, running a despondent hand through his dark locks, grimacing as he says the next words. 

“We slept together.” 

A sharp intake of breath is heard and Bryce snaps his head to the sound and what he finds makes his heart shatter all over again. He did this. He was making her feel this pain. Bryce could see the wave of emotion crash over her again and again. 

Bryce pushes away from his perch against the edge of the countertop and makes his way over to his girlfriend (ex-girlfriend?) and reaches out to comfort her but Nicolette recoils from his touch. 

“Don’t touch me.” Nicolette hisses, the venom in her voice thick and deadly. 

She moves over to the far corner of the kitchen, furthest away from him. She looks up at him, her face carefully blank but her voice plaintive. “Why, Bryce? Why is it you are having the guts to tell me this now when you could have told me a week ago? I had to find out from Danny...” Nicolette’s voice cracks and a small sob rips from her throat, tears tracking down her face in a steady stream. 

He rubs the back of his neck in a nervous tick. Yeah, keeping it a secret didn’t work well. Nicolette’s been shutting him out for the past three days. He didn’t blame her. 

“I know I should have told you straight away but...it just happened and it didn’t mean anything I swear. I never wanted to hurt you. I love you and she means nothing to me—”

Nicolette holds up a hand, her tears coming to a sudden stop as she stares at the man she thought would never hurt her, her green emerald eyes are iridescent in their beauty but also shows the pain of his words, the anger at his confession, the utter misery this has caused her. 

Bryce wants to throw up.

“Don’t…” Nicolette says in a dangerously low voice, the tone of it on the verge of cracking into something less dignified that she wants it to. “Don’t do this to me, Bryce. Don’t say those words because you have hurt me, beyond even you can imagine.”

Bryce flinches at the defeated tone in her voice and tears burn his eyes at the thought of this being the reason to lose her. He can’t lose her. 

“Please, Nicolette...I can’t lose you. Please.” 

Nicolette breathes out a laugh, it wasn’t humorous at all. It’s cold and shallow.

“Too late for that now, Bryce. You should have thought about how much I meant to you before you slept with another woman. Now, get out.” 

Nicolette points to the door, her face turned away from him as she shields her expression from him and he’s barred from those vivid green eyes that Bryce loves so much. 

He resists the urge to push, to beg, to fight for her but he knows that it’s a losing battle. Nicolette Valentine was a stubborn woman and she wasn’t going to budge. He has to give her time and time he’ll give her. 

Pain like tiny shards of glass pierces his heart as he steps away from Nicolette, and out the door. He walks down the hall and winces as he hears the loud, painful sobs of the woman he loves, the heartbreak poignant and visceral. 

He’s really fucked up this time.