#and have to deal with the consequences (fingers feeling like you jammed them real hard into something) afterwards

[ourceliumnetwork]

tripped on my laptop charger cord trying to get into my bed, caught myself on my fingers and had the sudden realization most other people probably don't have their fingers feel jammed or have them go too far back when they catch themselves on a mattress.

[br0-k3n-sch00lb01]

btw guys new stuff for the Sage AU fic!!! Im actually. Axtually writing lately!! Exciting yYayyayayayayayysysys

theres more than this but i was lazy

enjoy. Enjoy your food.

Basil stepped inside the basement. He heard faint voices from the room he had grown to avoid lately. He hadn’t been doing his proper ‘job,’ if that’s even what it could be called. His friends were awake, most likely, and for some reason he felt like he should just let them out. But he knew the consequences he would suffer if he did so. He placed his hand on the door to the chamber. He knew his hand would have been trembling if this were any other context, but he had learned to steady himself. It was unimportant to have such reactions to fear. In his eyes, even if they were natural, he saw them merely as another problem he had to deal with. There was a crashing sound inside and he twisted open the heavy handle .

He could not open the door. 

He should be panicking. They would die. His friends would die. He had to let them out.

“If you even try to help them, you know well what I can do to you.”

He had started shaking but stiffened involuntarily when Sage spoke. This was his reaction now, then? He had some things to say but for the sake of his own life he decided not to say them. Why had he been trying so hard to not get killed lately? His life, at this point, had no value. Nobody in this town had cared for him except for his friends at times. And now they were locked in this room in his cold basement. He pushed harder down on the handle to the chamber. Whatever was jamming the door gave way and he pushed the heavy slab of iron inwards. 

He would be shocked if he were a normal person, but he wasn’t exactly ‘normal’ after everything he had done. The first person he saw was Sunny. He stared at him as if he were staring at a statue and not a real person, with vague interest, but in all reality he felt nothing looking at his best friend. Aubrey stepped in between Sunny and Basil, brandishing an empty novocaine needle.

“STAY AWAY FROM HIM, YOU PSYCHO!!!”

Basil raised an eyebrow slightly. He didn’t say anything in response. Honestly, even if he had wanted to talk, he was afraid he wouldn't have a voice anymore. He hadn’t spoken in ages. Not even a slight noise of acknowledgement had been made. He stared at Aubrey with that ponderous look on his face. He wasn’t even thinking about anything at this point. His head was empty. Aubrey glared at him and waved the needle slightly. She might have been expecting Basil to flinch but he didn’t even blink. He placed his finger on the tip of the needle and pushed it away from him, staring at it with empty eyes. Aubrey shoved it back towards him and blood welled up on his finger. He brought his hand away and stuck his finger in his mouth, sucking the blood off. He wiped his hand on his sweater.

“I’m not sure why you’re so intent on keeping me away. I could have left you to die.”

“YOU TRIED TO KILL US!!”

Basil frowned.

“But you’re alive, aren’t you?”

Aubrey snarled at him. Actually SNARLED. 

“But you wanted us dead. I’LL GET YOU ARRESTED WHEN I GET OUT OF HERE!!”

Basil aimed a swift kick at Aubrey’s stomach, planting his foot firmly on her abdomen. Aubrey stumbled backwards in surprise and then groaned. Sunny’s eyes widened slightly. He actually hadn’t reacted the whole time. Basil and Sunny exchanged a glance and Basil stepped forward.

“Are you okay?”

Sunny looked Basil straight in the eyes.

“...Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

Basil hugged him. He had missed feeling real human touch.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It was all a mistake.”

“It’s okay.”

Basil felt a sharp pain in his side. He did not make a sound, or gasp, or even cry. He turned his head. Aubrey had jabbed half of the long needle into his torso. Not a fatal wound, but he could feel warm blood trickling down from it and it hurt. He narrowed his eyes.

“Did you just stab me?”

“You deserve it.”

“Okay.”

He yanked the needle out of his flesh and tossed it on a metal rack. 

“If you intend on killing me, you won’t accomplish that with a needle.”

“I’m aware.”

Kel had been watching the whole thing with mild interest. Hero was sitting next to him, staring blankly at nothing. 

“I’ll be leaving now.”

“Piss off.”

“I intend to.”

Basil turned on his heels and walked deliberately out of the chamber. He heard footsteps on the concrete behind him but he didn’t look to see who it was. He walked upstairs into the misery that was his main floor. It was dark but you could see blood everywhere. It was not pretty. It was sickening. Basil heard a choked gasp behind him. 

“Get used to it, sunshine.”

Sunny came up beside him.

“You need to clean this up.”

“No.”

“W-What do you mean, ‘No’? This isn’t healthy, you could get seriously sick!!”

“Do you think I really care?”

Sunny stared at him for a moment.

“You used to care.”

Basil’s expression did not change. He stood there with a blank look.

“Okay. Well, now I don’t.”

“What’s gotten into you? It’s like you’re not even you!!”

Basil scoffed.

“Nothing’s ‘gotten into me,’ Sunny. This is just who I am now, don’t you see?”

“No, I don’t see! This isn’t you! It’s not! This isn’t the sweet, affectionate Basil that I know and used to love!!”

Basil felt a sharp pang in his heart and he sucked in a breath.

“...’Used to’...?”

[hoodoo12]

Elegy (1/6)

What follows is a story of Miss Argentina and Beetlejuice and how their own personal issues keep them locked in their own private hells. Contains smut and angst. It was done as a rp between @clairjohnson and myself. NSFW. Beetlejuice/Miss Argentina. Beej is a combination of movie and musical; Miss Argentina has contains hcs (such as her name and circumstances). Also contains minor mentions of OC Dante’s Inferno employees.  (Tagging people who have asked in the past. If you’d like to be tagged, hmu. If you’d like to be untagged, hmu.   @turtlepated @thewolfisapartofmysoul @beetlewise-and-pennyjuice @janitor-boy @beejiesbitch @angelicspaceprince) Enjoy!

He’d married, been murdered, vanquished the evil that was Juno – he wasn’t looking forward to seeing her again anytime soon – said some weird heartfelt goodbyes to people he just terrorized, and was carried off by his clones in the smallest, most subdued mosh pit style ever, for an exit that was worthy of some kind of award, just for the theatrics of it. 

The second he was through the swirling mists of the doorway that separated the living from the Netherworld, he turned on his own clones and attacked them remorselessly, using claws and teeth to tear them apart, growling like he’d lost his mind and spitting like he was rabid. 

None of the clones attempted to fight back or escape. They were part of him, and he was so fucking angry – it made him angrier that they just took their destruction passively, his destruction, a destruction of self that made his hands drip with gore, his mouth taste like clotted blood, and his clothing, the tuxedo conjured specifically for something positive in his fucking waste of a life, a deeper color. 

He hated this fucking suit. 

He was too exhausted by the end of his rampage to flick it away, however. Stepping over the piles of meat that had been clones, he wiped his hands down his front and winced as they brushed over the new ventilation that goddamn teenager graced him with. He kicked the door to the waiting room hard enough that it bounced off the interior wall of purgatory, startling the assholes sitting around waiting for their stupid numbers to be called.

---

It had been another slow day in the waiting room. Not that Miss Argentina had any way to count “days” – time had little meaning in death – but her job was as uneventful now as it had been several hundred new arrivals ago. Staring down at her clipboard Maria crossed out the name of the last soul she’d sent back to meet their case worker. Juno was surprisingly absent at the moment, but the receptionist wasn’t too concerned. Her boss was a work-alcoholic and honestly, what else did Juno have to do? She’d be back soon. 

In a practiced motion, one she’d done a million times, Maria stood and slid open the dividing screen to the waiting room. 

“Number 5,678 Mr. Hen – “ 

The rest of the name caught in her throat when the door to the left of her was blown open, rattling on hinges that threatened to give. A split second of panic washed over her, an emotion really only needed for the living, before she saw who it was.

Betelgeuse. 

“Mr. Hendrix,” she finished, moving her gaze from the fuming poltergeist to the sorry looking dead man standing up from his seat. “Your caseworker is waiting for you – please step through those doors.” 

Maria placed her clipboard back on the desk then leaned out the window a little further, giving the older, bloodied man a deeper once over. “Back so soon, Mr. Betelgeuse? Should I pull you a number?”

"Fuck this place and fuck the numbers!" he spit, literally spit, making the ghost sitting nearest in his line of fire wipe his face as he hoisted himself up – some kind of heart attack took him, no doubt, from the lack of obvious trauma and the effort he took to get out of the molded plastic chair – and hurried as fast as he could out of range. 

He could take that chair and beat down every wall in this place. He could tear apart every single soul in this forsaken pit. He could bypass the eons of fucking waiting and just march right down the hall to the Lost Souls' Room –

– scary thing was, that option held some real fucking appeal at the moment. 

Beetlejuice glared at each and every dead person cowering in place. Fucking losers. Just like the fucking Maitlands, but worse, because they followed the goddamn directions in the fucking Handbook and were now stuck here. 

But what did that say about him? the voice in the crate in the back of his mind whispered. You tried, and you still ended up right.here.with.them. 

Beetlejuice grabbed the side of his head, mindless of the residual tackiness on his hand, and gave his hair a yank. Sometimes that dislodged the voice enough to make it shut up. 

His gaze fell on the beauty queen behind the partition. He couldn't tell if she was politely waiting for his tantrum to subside, or if she was being indifferently patient, having seen it all before.

Maria wondered, absently, where all the blood had come from. She noticed the gaping hole in his chest and assumed it might all be his – but it was always hard to tell with Betelgeuse. His brand of “bio-exorcising” wasn’t the cleanest. However, based on his outfit, she doubted his day job was what sent him back here. The fool had tried to get married again. 

Fixing him with a cool, pleasant smile, Maria yanked a number from the ticket dispenser and held it up. “I’ll just pull one for you, then. You know the rules – no number, no getting to see Juno.” 

The beauty queen leaned further out of the window and rested her chin in the palm of her hand – her clipboard and list forgotten for the moment. Red tuxedo – a classic for him. How many times had she seen him in it? She could remember at least four, and she guessed he’d worn it twice as many times before she’d crossed over. Betelgeuse never told her how old he was, but after working with him for over three decades, it was clear he had a few hundred years under his belt. 

When was he going to stop pulling this stunt? It never worked. Always ended up with him down in the waiting room – back here with her. Maria bristled, both angry and jealous that he got to leave this hell and go gallivanting top side as he pleased. Her smile tightened and she narrowed her eyes at him. 

“You never invite me to your weddings,” Maria said casually, lifting the hand from her chin to examine the ruby manicure. “Any good plans for your honeymoon?” 

She flicked her gaze up to catch his reaction.

The bitterness and pure rage inside him managed to ratchet up another notch with the receptionist's detached apathy to his situation as she offered the ticket out to him.

Anyone else, and he'd have taken that hand off at the wrist; he could feel his teeth lengthen in anticipation of it. As it were, he snatched the paper away with enough force to tear it. He crumpled it in his fist and shoved it into a pocket without looking at it, casting his glance around the room again at all the lesser assholes who were pointedly trying not to look at him and become the focus of his ire. 

Maria's words, her barbed little query spoken in her light accent, just poured salt into the gaping hole in his chest. 

"Fuck you," he roared. His voice cracked.

Maria was used to seeing Betelgeuse angry. She was also used to seeing him happy – manically so. The man had a way of taking emotions to the extreme. She was not, however, used to hearing the crack in his voice. The next biting remark died on her tongue and she peered up from her nails, her brow furrowing. 

“Oh, don’t look so upset.” She tutted, but there was less sarcasm behind it. “You have all the time in the world to try again, don’t you? It’s not like you’re stuck here (like she was). Not for long, anyway.” 

Had this time been different from his other attempts? The pain in his expression suggested so. If he kept this up she may just bring him around back to avoid disturbing the waiting ghosts. Maria didn’t like bending the rules, but for the good of her job she’d bend them. That’s what she told herself at least. For the job.

try again 

not like you're stuck here 

Her words meant to comfort stung, jamming themselves like smaller spears into his chest. She was partially right. It wasn't like he was stuck here, so long as he could convince some dumb sucker to fulfill the terms of the contract. Finding the right dumb sucker was what took the time and energy. 

That led to the whole "try again" debacle. What was the point? He'd never succeed; despite the seemingly impressive power he had in the upper world, it was useless. He was useless, like everything was smoke and mirrors and the one being fooled was him. 

He realized he had his fists clenched so hard he was shaking. The ghosts surrounding him in the mismatched furniture, patiently waiting their turn, still did their damnedest to pretend they heard and saw nothing. 

"No one is like me!" he'd shrieked in the Maitlands' faces. 

The stupid deads sitting here proved it. He had half a mind to grab the nearest one and rip him apart like he'd treated his clones, just to continue to give his rage an outlet, but on top of everything else he didn't want to deal with the consequences of that. Maria was still watching him, as if she expected him to do something of the sort, like she was steeling herself to have to intervene and de-escalate him, even though he knew it wasn't anywhere near part of her job.

The shaking of his fists drew her gaze down – would he really be so brash as to tear through the souls waiting? Not that he could actually kill anyone, but it would make them have to get a new place in line . . . and the paperwork involved would be a headache. 

Maria lifted her Miss Argentina sash over her head and draped it on the back of her chair. Quietly, but quickly, she moved around her desk and out the side door that led to the waiting room. Like approaching a wild animal you didn’t want to startle, Maria crept forward. Delicately, she placed her fingers on the side of his arm to get his attention, keeping her back straight and her expression calm. 

“How about you come wait in the back, Mr. Betelgeuse.” 

Her voice was smooth. She had started adding in the “Mr.” when he’d gone rogue and stopped working for Juno. The days of familiarity, of her calling him “Beej”, were long gone. Maria still kept a certain level of fondness for the poltergeist, though she’d never admit it aloud.

The roots of his hair were probably the color of this fucking suit. 

When Maria physically approached and laid a manicured hand on his arm, he almost spun on her. When the pressure on his arm increased, aided by her nails digging in so hard he could feel them through the layers of fabric, he forced himself to relent. 

"Fine," he agreed bitterly.

She’d felt him tense at her touch, and Maria briefly considered she’d made a grave mistake approaching him, until his muscles relaxed – slightly – under her fingers. Thank goodness. 

Keeping her hand on his arm the receptionist guided him to the office door. She peered out to catch the relief on the newly dead faces before shutting it behind her. 

“Take a seat.” She gestured to the chair next to her desk and sat back down on her own. She wanted to stay disinterested, wanted to keep things professional, but she couldn’t.

“So.” Maria pulled some papers together and tapped them on her desk until they were even. “Is most of that blood yours? I haven’t seen you looking so . . . out of sorts in quite some time.”

 The beauty queen looked at him from the corner of her eye, pretending to keep most of her attention on the work in front of her.

He sat where indicated, in the hard straight back chair beside her desk. If he wanted, he could look up and see the filing cabinets, the paths in the rug worn through to the subfloor underneath, the endless stacks of paper, and the hallway where the caseworker's offices were. 

He didn't want to. He could walk through the place blindfolded. Nothing changed in the Netherworld; it was all slog and dismay. And they thought he was crazy for wanting back out?! 

A cigarette appeared in his hand. Sticking it between his lips he glanced up at her question and statement. 

"Yeah. The blood's mine. First from that goddamn teenager and second – " He broke off there and used lighting the cigarette as an excuse not to finish and admit he'd torn apart his own clones in a fit of rage. " – never mind. Nothing matters. It's the same shit for eternity."

Maria watched, with pointed interest, as he brought the cigarette up to his mouth. Well, at least the blood was his. Less mess for Juno to clean up later. 

“Thanks.” She drawled sardonically, bringing her own cigarette into existence. “I’d love one.” 

As she took a drag, Maria let his remark sit in silence for a few moments, unsure of how to respond. Most of the dead seemed to be having an on-going crisis – and if Beej had been feeling the same, he’d never let on. 

“You’ve always been one for the dramatics. But never nihilism.” She paused, “ – also, did you just say teenager? You know what – I don’t want to know.” 

She threw her hand up at that, waving the question off. He was a scumbag, to be sure, but the thought of him being that scummy was not an idea she wanted to entertain.

He'd have felt bad about not offering her a smoke if he was in a different state of mind. As it were, it didn't even register until she pointed it out. Even then he couldn't quite bring himself to care. It was easy, however, to fill in the blanks she left out. 

"It was a fuckin' green card thing," he growled. "Most teens – especially gothy ones who think their existence is the worst of anyone, ever – are dumb as shit. Easy to manipulate. Except this one was too damn clever for her own good. She used – " 

It was on the tip of his tongue to admit his naked, desperate desire to be accepted was used effectively against him, but that made sour bile rise in the back of his throat and he had to swallow it down again. 

" – ugly art to impale me," he corrected after only a brief hesitation. He took a deep drag, and was dismayed to see that some smoke drifted out the hole in his chest. That kid must've punctured a lung. He sighed as he pulled at his shirt to try and cover it. 

From the corner of his eye he watched her watch him. He didn't want her pity. He didn't know what he wanted, but he knew he didn't want her pity.

Maria felt herself relax at his growled response – pleased to hear he was still a normal scumbag of the con-man variety. She couldn’t hide the twitch of her lips into a smile when he admitted how he kicked the bucket this time around. She’d seen a lot of dumb ways to die, but ugly art was a first. Chuckling through a drag, she eyed the smoke coming out of his chest, causing her lips to curl even further upward. 

As good as it was to have him talking, the anger radiating off him was still obvious. She could practically feel it on her skin. Whenever he got out of hand Juno was usually around to deal with him – but not this time. She was still surprisingly absent. Fortunately, Maria had worked here long enough to know what her boss’s trump card was. 

“Juno’s been away from the office today.” she started, putting out her cigarette in the glass tray on her desk. “And you look like you’re in the need of a distraction after . . . your little accident.” 

The receptionist spun her chair to face him, one slender bare leg crossed over the other, and raised a brow at the bloodied ghost. 

“How does a drink or two at Dante’s sound? On Juno’s tab, of course.” 

She smiled, scarlet lips parting to show off her straight white smile. In many ways the two were opposites. Beej was unapologetically himself, moss and all, while Miss Argentina went to great lengths to appear perfect. Even though she had let some of that anxiety go in death, bad habits were hard to break. 

“I’ll join you – if you don’t mind. I could use some time out of the office.”

In an effort to appear disinterested in the state of both his clothing and the new hole he was going to have to figure out how to close, Beetlejuice kept his eyes on the paperwork she'd straightened. A kid's profile, from the looks of it. One perk about working as Juno's assistant way back when was helping the kids when they came through –

He glanced up sharply when Maria mentioned Dante's. Actually suggesting it, and accompanying him to it. He would've thought that the beauty queen would pretend that place never existed, although he knew she must have been both scouted and offered a job there. 

"On Juno's tab? A drink or five sounds great." 

Some time that old hag was going to show up again, slathered in Sandworm spit and gastric juices, and he'd much rather not be found here if possible. He stood up abruptly, making the wooden chair squeal against the floor. 

"Fine. I'll let you take me out."

“Only drinks, Mr. Betelgeuse. I’m not paying for any other services.” 

Miss Argentina hadn’t had a chance to be out in quite some time. With an eternity stretching out in front of you, there was little rush to do much of anything other than your assigned job. Peering down at her burgundy gown, she also realized she hadn’t changed her outfit in years – wearing the same dress to two different parties used to be a mortifying thought when she was alive. 

How things change. The beauty queen stood, and with a few moments of concentration, changed into a red cocktail dress. Her French curled hair now in tight waves around her shoulders. It felt nice. A little like being alive, even. Even if it was just to go out and watch this man get drunk off his ass. But she understood his desire to live again – didn’t all ghosts wish they could be top side? He was certainly the most tenacious about getting there. 

“All right, ready when you are,” she said while smoothing down her new outfit. She turned from the older man and started towards the office exit, throwing a ‘are you coming?’ glance over her shoulder at him.

He couldn't tear his eyes away from her hands smoothing down the fabric of her choice of dress. With his cigarette still caught between two fingers, he ran his thumb over his lower lip, thinking about the differences between the dead and the breathers changing clothing – the breathers had to take it off and put it back on, versus simply willing a new outfit into existence. 

Of course the dead could be titillatingly mundane, if they chose. It was too bad this was the never-closed office, and there was a waiting room full of ghosts on the other side of the glass partition –  

At her invitation and with a sigh, Beetlejuice stepped off the road that daydream was headed. He'd lost the chance with her a long time ago. 

He flicked his still lit cigarette into the ether and decided if she was going to be dolled up, it wouldn't be right for him to accompany her in what he was wearing. Between one step towards the door and the next, his blood-soaked tux became his favorite striped suit. He left the hole in his torso under his shirt. 

"Lead the way, muñeca." tbc . . .

[harrysdimplles]

18 and 49 smutty 😈

18&49!!!!!!! plssss

warning: a bit of daddy kink, hinting of subdrop (but it doesn't really happen). enjoy!

"That was kind of hot."

"Take off your shirt."

YN liked to push. Loved it, really. Dating someone like Harry left her fully aware of how dangerous that could be. It didn't, however, mean that she would stop. 

It was fun, you see? She thrived whenever he gave her that stern, warning look, the one that meant she was too close to crossing the lines they had defined together. There was nothing that felt better than the chill running down her spine when his jaw clenched, body going stiff because he had that iron control over himself, one that he refused to let go of. Unless they were alone, of course.

Going in, YN knew she would have to accommodate. He was Harry Styles after all, finally completely comfortable in his skin, finally free. So she had to learn how to share. Part of him, anyways. The rest of the world could be in awe of him, hell they could even be in love with him but she, oh, she was the one who got to see the man letting go of the walls he had to learn to put up when his life stopped being only his.

So yeah, she liked to push and be reminded that some things were only theirs. 

It wasn't on purpose, not that day.  The couple had been jumping from one continent to the next for almost a week,  dealing with endless meetings and phone calls that couldn't be turned down because there was so much Harry had to get done now the album was finished...and YN was tired. And needy. So, when Jeff said his goodbyes after lunch and told them  H could take the afternoon off, since all they had to deal with now was paperwork he still needed their legal team to look over, she got excited, thinking about all the possibilities now that it would be just them for a couple of hours. YN hugged her friend tight, smiling when he blinked at her because he knew where her mind was going and skipped her way to the car, pretending not to listen to Harry when he told her to be careful in case paps had already spotted his next location. 

Her sudden spark of energy was short-lived, however, cause Harry joined her with his phone glued to his ear, and all she could do was sit there and pout as her boyfriend hooked it up on the dashboard, continuing his conversation as they drove away. 

xxx

"Daddy, I wanna go home"  YN usually refrained from using the term out in the world, except she had tried everything else to get his attention during the drive, Harry's only response being a quick smile whenever they hit a light. She wanted their bed and some cuddles, not to parade around looking at an expensive property when they didn't even need to.

"We'll make it quick, pet" his hand was a reassuring weight on her thigh as the man leaned his head back on the seat for a few seconds, eyes closed, basking in the warmth of the sun.

"Jeff said you were done for the day, didn't he?" she didn't even try fighting the edge on her voice when she asked it, knowing she would have to play nice once they got out of the car. "Why are we here, then?" 

"Cause I got interrupted last time I came here, so I promised the guy we'd have a raincheck. Beautiful house, innit?"  his free hand pointed to the mansion at the same time YN leaned over to the driver's side, fingers pulling at his shirt untile let her kiss him, whining needy pleas against his lips in an effort to change his mind "That's enough now, baby"  the singer pulled back when he heard another car pulling up, not keen on giving a free show to the real estate agent "Need my girl to be good, yeah?"   the ever-present rings dig into the skin of her legs when he muttered the command  against her ear, walking out of the car without giving her a chance to respond. 

If she was stomping her feet when she followed, well, Harry was too busy charming yet another person to notice. 

xxx

The place was huge. And beautiful, but she wouldn't admit to that, especially considering how long the whole thing was taking. To his credit, Harry tried to include her in the conversation but gave up soon enough when all she did was look for bad things to comment on. It was kinda rude, and he hated it when people were rude, didn't he?

He would've spanked her for it, right then and there if not for the seller, just the thought of his hands on her making YN head float a bit. It had been a while since they last had time to properly play,  and it would be a terrible lie if she said she wasn't missing it.

Getting Marco's attention was easy enough. Apparently, the only thing the blond was more interested in than making a huge commission was, well...her. So she put her game face on after deciding she wanted Harry all to herself no matter the consequences.

The relieve she could see on Harry's face once she loosened the frown washed away quicker than YN thought it would: he could be jammed and stressed, but that was the man who knew her better than he knew himself at times, he sure as hell wasn't about to misunderstand what she was trying to do when it happened right in front of his eyes. 

xxx

Harry tried ignoring it, at first. Trust me, he really did. He knew YN, knew that the scene she was putting on was just a desperate attempt to get his attention. He couldn't even blame her for it, because as much as he wanted to ignore the world and lose himself on her at any given day, that just wasn't possible sometimes. 

But like...no.

If she wanted to get under his skin, well, it was working, his mind pondered as she smiled sweetly at the Italian prick, laughing at some stupid shit he had just said. Whatever. If the musician had to stand there another second he would be making the headlines next day for something very, very stupid. 

He wouldn't even regret it, in all honesty. 

"We should really get going. I'll have someone call you when I make a decision, Marco"  the guy had the decency to step back when he moved closer to his girlfriend, that known itch starting to make his body buzz with need. 

"Oh no! You haven't even gone upstairs yet, YN's gonna love the view, mister Styles"  his voice only wavered a bit when he stared at Harry, whatever he saw in his eyes making him uneasy.

"We're leaving. Now."  he had his baby's hand on his before she could reply, walking so fast she was struggling a bit to follow once he gave her a hard look that said she absolutely didn't want to try anything else then and there.

xxx

"That was kind of hot." YN's voice was uncertain when she muttered the words after racking her brain for something that could ease the tension in the car. Harry was too quiet, damn it. She didn't mean to make him seriously mad. She hadn't even looked twice at another guy since they met, he had to know that, right? "I...I like it when you show people I'm yours"  the words came out as soft as she could make them.

He only scoffed, hands tightening against the wheel, deciding to keep driving as if she wasn't even there.

xxx

"Told yeh to be good, didn't I?"  his voice was low but harsh, bouncing off the walls as soon as they were behind closed doors, a wicked grin spreading into his lips when he saw she was watching the way he toyed with his belt, the silence spreading around them

"Sorry. I was just...I just wanted to..."

"Piss me off?" Harry provided, stepping closer to her. "You know I don't share, baby" his right hand lifted her chin, red covering her face as he stared, pondering about what came next. It was a good thing he had some bloody time off, after all. This would take time. 

"I'm yours. All yours" 

"That's right, pet." the feel of her soft lips on his was good, but he needed more. They did. "You just forget that sometimes..."

"No! Daddy, no!"

"Shh, I know, baby, I know" she took the hint when his hands landed on her shoulders, sinking down to her knees in a fluid motion that was always endearing, even with his blood boiling "We'll talk about asking for what you want in a proper manner later, now I have something else for that mouth of yours to do" she had crawled closer during his speach, nuzzling his crotch just to feel him hardening underneath the fabric of his clothes. "Take off your shirt, don't wanna mess it up" she blushed deeper as she complied, and Harry grunted, pulling himself off slowly to the sight of her boobs being freed, fighting his desire to come down and spend at least an hour worshipping them before fucking her against the floor "Open up, love" he had to look away when her lips parted, tongue peaking for a tentative leak on the head, almost as if she feared he would take it away...

Tempting, but not on the agenda for the day.

"No teasing, you've done enough of that already" Harry hissed, feeling her tongue  dip all along his shaft, getting it wet before she came back up and closed her lips around the head, whining and finally giving in to her need to touch him, trembling fingers on his hips when she sucked, relaxing her throat and sinking down slowly before coming back up and doing it again, trying to get more and more of him inside her mouth each time, forcing Harry to bite his tongue not to praise her through it. This was a bit of a punishment, even if she didn't know that for sure just yet.

Dropping his gaze to watch as she kept going, more eager and desperate with every move, big, glassy eyes paired with hollowed cheeks whenever YN had to slow it down so she could breathe through her nose without letting him go, slim fingers pumping what she couldn't fit in, Harry almost gave up: she looked so good, downright sinful, lost for anything that wasn't pleasing him, perhaps...

Then, the way Marco's hand wrapped around her arm back at the house flashed before his eyes, and Harry's own hands fisted on some of her hair, the grip strong enough for her to know he was done waiting. He let her work for it some more, feeling his hips stuttering as his climax got close.

The tears rolled down the second he pulled out, roughly wrapping his hands over his cock, YN finally catching up to what was really going on. That was for him, not them. A couple of seconds was all Harry needed before he was cumming, white streaks joining the tears on her pretty face, messing the girl up further whilst waves of pleasure reduced his brain to a blank mass.

YN didn't move. She didn't even make a sound. Was she did was stand there and watch him with wonder in her eyes, because she was pretty sure that was nothing in the face of the Earth to rival Harry when he was lost in ecstasy.

"Your fucking mouth, babe, I..." she shivered when his thumb brushed against her skin, moaning around it when the taste of his release hit her tongue, focusing on anything that wasn't the throbbing in between her legs. "Desperate, aren't we?"  his smile softened after a while, easily pulling her back to her feet "Look at yeh...daddy turned his girl  into a pretty mess, didn't he?"  H didn't mind tasting himself when he kissed her, deep and demanding as always "Too bad we can't make it worse, lovie. Yeh know the drill, bad girls don't get to cum. Next time yeh want something, just ask" he slapped her ass then, on the side of harsh: they needed to clean up, so he was thinking a long bath and some more teasing to tire her out for the evening. A good plan. 

"Yes, daddy, I will"  

[calligraphist-artemisia]

The Sun Prince (Chapter 1)

Summary:  It was an accident. A simple misstep that sent him plunging into the darkness and waking an ancient magic. Now Prompto has to deal with the consequences of making a deal with an Astral and learn how to control the magic blooming inside of him.

Also posted on AO3 and fanfiction.net under the username “kishirokitsune”

Decided to jump headfirst into this one after the idea of Prompto accidentally becoming a prince wouldn’t leave my head. I’m not 100% sure where this will go, but it’ll be fun to find out!

1. The Crown in the Darkness

In Prompto's defense, he hadn't meant to end up in the ancient ruins, alone with only his trusty lapel flashlight to guide the way. It happened so suddenly – one minute he was helping Noctis search for a missing dogtag, and the next the ground gave way beneath his feet, plunging him into the chilled depths. He'd been thankful to have his landing slightly softened by water, right up until the rushing river swept him away from the entrance, dropping him deeper into the ancient structure.

Prompto groaned as he came to another dead end. As awful as it sounded, he really wished Noctis was there with him. He didn't want his best buddy in trouble, but he'd feel a whole lot better if he had some company. Maybe then he wouldn't jump at every time shuffle of rock, every drip of water.

'Pull it together. It's just another empty ruin,' he chided himself, not daring to speak the words out loud. He turned around, making his way back through the winding passage and keeping an eye out for a split in the path.

Just an empty ruin.

A run-of-the-mill, underground, empty ruin.

A surprisingly intact empty ruin, whose murals of colorful, gleaming stone glinted as his light passed over them, so unlike any of the others they'd visited while exploring the lands outside of the Crown City. If he weren't so terrified by what may lurk there, Prompto would have examined the murals more closely or snapped a few pictures to show Ignis later.

Actually, it was strange. He should have encountered daemons the moment he came out at the bottom of the slide, but he hadn't see as much as a single imp.

Prompto shivered for a reason other than being cold and wet.

It should have brought him some form of comfort, the thought of not having to deal with daemons by himself while lost and trapped in an ancient structure, but it only intensified his feelings of unease.

He came to a new path and noted with some hope that it sloped upwards. That was a good sign, right? He had to go up in order to get out, so as long as he kept that in mind, he would be okay. Eventually he would find a way out. It was just like following the left wall to get out of a maze! (Right? Wait, was that right? He'd heard it somewhere before, but did that really work?)

Prompto shook his head and tried to focus on the situation at hand.

Step one, find a path leading up and out.

Step two... well, he didn't know what step two was, but he'd figure it out.

Step three, profit?

He fought back a giggle at the absurdity of his thoughts, which trailed off to a stop as he reached the top of the sloping path, where he came face-to-face with another dead end.

“No...” he breathed, feeling panic well up and lodge in his throat. His eyes stung with tears and he fiercely wiped them away.

There was another mural there, depicting a great horned Astral offering the image of the sun to a human figure. Maybe if he paid better attention to the lessons on the history of Solheim, he'd be able to make better sense of what he was seeing. What if there were clues on how to get out and he was missing them?

No, that was stupid. Stuff like that only happened in movies and video games, not real life.

It didn't stop Prompto from reaching out to touch the raised form of the sun, half wondering how the ancients accomplished such lasting feats of design. Even after thousands of years, there wasn't a decorative stone out of place.

The sun sank in from the light pressure of his fingertips and Prompto didn't have time to utter a despairing “uh oh” before the floor tipped under his feet and sent him painfully thudding into a chamber below.

Bright light assaulted his eyes and he tightly squeezed his eyes shut with a soft cry. Between that and the pain throbbing through his back thanks to his hard landing, all he knew was pain for several agonizingly long minutes.

He officially hated the ruins.

(Could it even be considered that? It wasn't exactly ruined.)

His eyes slowly adapted to the change in light and as he looked around the chamber, he realized he was in very real, very serious danger.

Two of the walls were slowly moving in, so quietly that at first he thought he was imagining it, and there was no exit in sight.

“No, no, no!” Prompto cried out, frantically struggling to his feet. He grabbed onto a podium in the center of the room, using it to stabilize himself as he searched the walls for any clues.

There had to be a way out! Another trigger, like the one that dropped him into danger! He just needed to be fast about finding it.

He couldn't die there, slowly and agonizingly crushed to death between hard stone. There was so much he still had to do! To see! How could he keep his promise to stand by Noct's side if he was dead!

Pure panic was setting in.

“Help!” Prompto shouted, his voice bouncing off of the walls of the stone chamber.

He received no response, not that he really expected one.

“Please.” His next word came out as more of a sob, his breath catching in his throat as he tried to calm down. He had to calm down. If he panicked, he was doomed. “Can anyone hear me?”

Prompto lowered his eyes to the podium he was clutching for support. A podium which held an ornate golden crown, which emanated an aura of light that warped the air around it, not unlike heat waves on a hot summer day or the way burning embers distorted the air as it turned wood to charcoal. It was a work of beauty, all woven gold and tiny, delicate gears that actually moved. Ancient writings were printed across the thicker sides of the bands. The emblem of a sun, carved from golden crystal, was the centerpiece.

A part of Prompto wanted to pick it up and get a better look, but he wrenched his gaze away instead. “Bad idea. That's, like, the start of seventeen different horror films,” he said to himself.

He wasn't going to make his impending death worse by getting himself cursed by an ancient artifact. Nuh uh. No thanks.

Prompto turned his attention back to the walls, morbidly wondering how badly his blood would stain the images. He shook his head. He had to stop thinking like that!

The murals...

They were everywhere that he looked. There had to be some kind of meaning to them all, or else why bother putting so much time and effort into them, especially in a chamber designed solely to kill whoever got stuck inside of it.

Dazzling crystals in an array of colors glimmered under the light of the crown, more detailed than anything else he'd come across. A giant of a man – maybe one of the Astrals? - was being presented with a golden crown, not unlike the one on the podium. He was there on every wall, in every scene, helping the people with what they needed.

It gave Prompto an idea.

He took a deep breath and tried to block out the fact that, in a few minutes, he would be firmly sandwiched between two walls and squeezed until he popped and became something that grotesquely resembled strawberry jam. He tried not to fidget too much as he summoned his camera to his hands and his words got stuck in his throat.

“Uh, so, I know I'm not worthy or anything. I'm not royalty or anyone special or even a true Crown citizen, but....” He fought the urge to touch his wristband and make sure it fully covered the mark it was meant to hide. Instead, he set his camera on the podium. “Please, if you can hear me, I really don't want to die here, and I know my camera isn't a great offering, but it's the most prized thing I have.”

He eyed the walls, which steadily continued on their path, and swallowed fearfully. “P-please, I don't... I'll do anything you want! Please, help me!”

“Anything?”

It was a good thing Prompto already set down his camera, because he absolutely would have dropped it at the sound of a raspy, masculine voice. He whirled around to find a man with long, dark hair standing against an stationary wall, a scowl set on his sharp face. His eyes were the most unsettling thing about him, flickering red and orange like a blazing fire.

He stepped forward and Prompto's attention was down to his faded and torn robes, gray like ash and unfitting for a man – no, Astral, who radiated such raw power.

Prompto gulped.

He was in way over his head, practically drowning, but he couldn't back down. Promising anything to an unknown god was probably the worst mistake he could make, but it was either that or die an agonizingly painful death.

The Astral stared at him, waiting for an answer.

“Anything,” Prompto agreed, his voice coming out as an embarrassing squeak.

The Astral didn't have the decency to laugh or even smirk, and instead walked over and took Prompto's chin in a tight grip, forcing him to look him in the eyes. Prompto didn't know what he was looking for, but the Astral must have been satisfied with what he saw because he soon released him and moved on to the crown.

Prompto watched him caress it with reserved reverence, all too aware of the walls, which had yet to stop. He hated to disrupt the moment the Astral was having, but he couldn't hold back. Not anymore. “So, uh, what about the walls? You know, the moving ones? The moving ones that are about to kill us both?”

The Astral looked wholly indifferent to what Prompto was saying, and without looking away from the crown, lifted one hand and snapped his fingers.

The walls stopped.

Prompto exhaled in relief. “Thanks! I really thought I was done for!”

“I am aware,” said the Astral, but at least that time Prompto thought he could detect a hint of amusement. His victory over being vaguely amusing to the deity rather than annoying was short-lived, as the man turned to him with the crown in his hands.

Prompto's smile faded and he took a step back. “What are you going to do with that?”

“This is for you. It is the key to leaving this place.”

“It's not cursed, is it?” Prompto asked warily, the words slipping out. He snapped his mouth shut, his eyes going wide as he realized he'd likely offended the deity standing before him.

“Cursed?” repeated the Astral, evidently thrown off guard. He glanced down at the crown in his hands and snorted in amusement. “An intriguing idea, however foolish. Had I wanted you dead, I would have let your pleas go unanswered.” He looked Prompto up and down. “You are more interesting than I expected. Now step forward, Prompto Argentum.”

Prompto's feet moved as if by their own accord until he stood directly in front of the Astral, and before he could protest or babble out a whole stream of questions, the crown was gently placed on top of his head, a pleasantly warm weight.

He wasn't sure what he'd expected to happen, but after a moment it became clear that was it. He lifted his head to meet the Astral's amused gaze, and the crown stayed perfectly in place, as though it had been made just for him.

“Now what?”

“Now, you leave,” said the Astral, making a shooing gesture.

It had to be a trick, right? Did gods even play tricks?

“You haven't told me what you want,” Prompto pointed out. “My offering, for saving my life. I still owe you.”

“It has been a long time since anyone owed me something. I would like to cherish that feeling for a while longer,” said the Astral. “Rest assured, Prompto Argentum, I will find you when the time is right to request my favor. For now, I leave you with a name – Rhyos. Remember it.”

“Uh, sure?” Prompto responded, unsure of what else to say.

Rhyos, he tested the name in his mind. It was an unusual name for a god, but he'd never say that to his face.

He blinked and Rhyos was gone, leaving him alone in the chamber. “Okay, Prompto, lets get out of here,” he said to himself. “Now, uh, how do I do that?”

Prompto was sure he'd been gone for hours, following bands of golden light through the twisting corridors, until finally he ascended a flight of stairs to a door marked with the emblem of the sun. It had taken thirty minutes to figure out how the crown worked and he wondered if Rhyos neglected to mention it on purpose. The Astral did seem to take some amusement from his confusion.

It was easy once he figure it out. All he had to do was command a door to open or ask for a way out and the crown did all of the real work.

One last door stood in his path to freedom.

Prompto reached out and pressed his palm flat against the sun. “Open.”

As the door slid soundlessly open, Prompto quickly removed the crown from his head, and with a slight sense of guilt, stowed it away in the Armiger, purposefully hiding it in his bag. The top of his head tingled for a moment.

“Prompto!”

He didn't have time to brace himself before Noctis appeared in front of him in a shower of blue magic. His normally reserved best friend pulled him in for a tight hug and Prompto didn't need to hear his voice to feel the pure relief at seeing him alive.

He saw Gladio approach over Noctis's shoulder, watching the taller man call out to Ignis. They were all relieved to see him, he realized. Genuinely relieved, and not just because of Noct's worry. Prompto hadn't stopped to consider the close bond that had formed between them since leaving Insomnia, but the proof was right there if he ever needed it.

“Sorry, buddy. Didn't really mean to go cave diving, but, y'know,” Prompto said with a shrug. “Next time I'll make sure to drag you with me.”

“Ha,” Noctis responded dryly, letting go of his friend. “We've been trying to find a way to get to you for hours. I wanted to jump in after you, but Ignis wouldn't let me. How did you get out?”

“Just got lucky, I guess,” Prompto fibbed, not ready to explain everything that happened with Rhyos. Maybe later, once he had time to process everything for himself. All he wanted at that moment was dry clothing and food. It didn't have to be Ignis's cooking – he'd settle for some cup noodles if it meant warm food in his belly. “So, where are we camping for the night?”

“Camping, after all of that?” Ignis asked as he and Gladio approached. “I think not. Our funds can handle one night of splurging for two hotel rooms.”

Not even Gladio looked too upset by the proposal, and he was usually the first to protest when there was a perfectly good haven nearby.

“Maybe I should fall into holes more often,” Prompto joked in undertone to Noctis, who rolled his eyes and playfully shoved him.

Ignis sighed. “Do refrain from making a habit of this.”

But Prompto wasn't listening, he was too busy getting lost in the daydream of a hot shower, comfortable bed, and good food in his near future, all thoughts of magic crowns and ancient gods fleeing his mind.

[damienthepious]

hey this chapter came into my home and tried to murder me please enjoy bye

When The Reckoning Arrives (Chapter 5)

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [ao3] [Chapter 6]

[Summary: There are, inevitably, consequences for being too complacent while having a highly illegal affair with an enemy combatant

Chapter 5: “transfiguration’s gonna come for me at last / and I will burn hotter than the sun”

A shorter chapter. I'm sure you'll forgive me for that. This chapter will deal heavily with the consequences of the last chapter, so there will be mentions of blood throughout, and some medical talk.]

The moment Arum’s body goes limp, Damien sweeps his leg back in a practiced, clean maneuver, and before the guard holding him even hits the ground Damien is already running. He is driven forward like an inevitability, his hands still bound in front of him, instinctively calling for Rilla as he moves and unable to connect the thought of needing her to the knowledge that she is bound as well, with Sir Caroline holding her back. Before that thought has time to reconcile, Damien is on his knees beside Arum, helpless to do anything but flex his hands in the air near Sir Absolon’s hateful javelin, too afraid to try to touch it for fear of making anything worse.

“Oh Saint Damien above oh please, oh no, no oh no-”

At his wavering voice Arum’s eyes flutter, not quite blinking open, and Damien hears himself sob as he lifts his bound hands to cup Arum’s face. Arum leans into the touch, just enough for Damien to feel it, and as Damien oh so carefully maneuvers so that Arum’s head is gently, softly pillowed on his legs, he blinks again and coughs, and then his eyes open enough to focus on Damien’s face.

“Don’t move, love, don’t try to move.”

“Honeysuckle,” Arum says, and his voice is almost entirely hiss.

“Shhh, it’s-” Damien chokes on another sob. He swallows roughly, but he can’t make himself say it’s alright. He cannot lie. Not now. “I’m here. I’m here, Arum-”

“Easy, little honeysuckle,” Arum rasps. He lifts his hands towards the poet, but he sees the blood on his palms and thinks better of it. He settles for stroking the backs of his knuckles down Damien’s cheek, smoothing away some of his tears. “Easy…”

“Are you comforting me?” Damien asks in a ragged whisper. “Ridiculous lizard. Why did you- why did you-”

“I suspected it would end this way,” Arum breathes, an odd smile playing on his lips. “Seemed a small price to pay for your freedom. I am only sorry-” his eyes slip closed and he coughs, the noise sounding wet and vicious and wrong, “sorry that you had to see it.”

Damien’s sorrow is eclipsed by fury at this new absurdity, but he is interrupted by a commotion back towards the Citadel, by the voice of the Queen.

“Move aside, Sir Angelo! We must finish this, now.”

“I am sorry, my Queen, but I cannot obey. I cannot allow them to loose their arrows into the back of an unarmed man. An unarmed man with his hands tied, no less. And Lord Arum saved me, I cannot-”

“How many of my knights will be revealed as traitors before this day is done?” the Queen cries, furious and terrified in equal measure.

“Oops,” Sir Caroline says unconvincingly, and suddenly Rilla’s bonds are cut, dangling, falling to the dirt, and she is dashing away from her former captor and towards the knights and the monster. Caroline follows, but slowly, her posture stiff and her expression waxen.

Rilla drops to her knees beside them, and Damien can barely control the his overwhelming relief at her presence.

“Rilla, oh Rilla my heart, my heart- what do we do?”

She grips Damien’s shoulder for one too-brief, steadying moment, and then her hands are on Arum. Careful, practical, moving the cloth of his cape aside and assessing the damage. The lizard rouses again at the new touch, and though his eyes stay closed, he murmurs Amaryllis’ name. She reaches one hand into her bag, and grabs one of Arum’s knives from the ground with the other, and when she aims it at Damien he doesn’t even have time to be confused before she has sliced through the bindings at his wrists. Then, she is pressing a clean rag into his hands and showing him where to hold it, around the edge of the wound.

“Gotta stop the bleeding, pressure- just put pressure there and- and- oh Saints,” her breath catches and she digs through the bag again as Damien holds the quickly-reddening cloth. “Damien… Damien I don’t-”

“Breathe,” he says through his own panic, echoing back the advice she’s given him more times than he could count. “Breathe, my love.”

She does, pressing her eyes closed on the exhale, and then she bites her lip and meets Damien’s eyes. “Damien, I don’t think I can fix this.”

Damien’s heart stutters, and when it resumes it thuds against his ribs like a rockslide, dragging him down. He looks at Arum, looks at the weapon, and he knows. He knew the moment it happened, really. But Rilla- Rilla saying it makes it real. “Oh Saints…”

“Too much blood- he’s lost too much and it’s not like anyone here could be a donor it just wouldn’t- and the way the javelin hit, the angle, I think it probably punctured a lung and I- I can’t take it out without doing just- so much more damage, but leaving it in will kill him too, and I can’t- Damien there’s nothing-”

“Rilla-” he reaches a hand out and she takes it, their fingers tangling together. “Rilla, breathe-”

“I can- I can lessen his pain,” she says in a raw voice, pulling small bottle from her bag with her free hand. “I can… I can do that, at least.”

“Stand aside, Sir Angelo,” Sir Caroline says as she approaches, her voice stiff and angry and her blade drawn. “It is over. Let me finish it cleanly.”

“I will not, Sir Caroline.” There are tears on Angelo’s face, and that only makes Caroline’s frown deepen. “It is- you are right that it is over. And so, they deserve to say their goodbyes in as much peace as we can give them.”

“Don’t be a fool, Angelo. You know they will be punished for this, but you can still-”

“I do so wish we would stop having this same argument,” Sir Angelo says with a sad smile. “Though I am possessed of no sword, this time. Will you strike me to get to them, Sir Caroline?”

Caroline growls, then lifts a hand to press at her mouth roughly. She drags the hand up her face, through her hair, and then she jams her sword back into its sheath. “Damn you. Damn all of you.��

“Sir Caroline!” the Queen cries down, and Caroline turns back towards the Citadel with a scowl.

“Oh, he’s good as dead already! I am a Knight, not a butcher.”

Damien can’t help but blanch at the words, but he keeps his steady grip on Rilla’s shoulder as she tips Arum’s head back and carefully pours a dose of her painkiller down his throat. He coughs, winces, and his eyes flick open in narrow violet slits.

“Amaryllis,” he hisses again, “what-”

“That should dull it at least a little, Arum, just- just try not to move, okay?”

Arum disobeys immediately, his tail curling around Rilla and pulling her closer. When she makes a noise of terrified protest – the javelin, she can’t touch it, can’t risk anything that could exacerbate the damage – he shushes her, nudging his forehead against her arm. “Let me bend to my nature,” he whispers, the ghost of a smile gleaming through the pain on his face. “I know this is my ending, but it is not often that a monster is fortunate enough to die in the arms of those he loves.”

“Oh you absolute idiot,” Rilla whispers, reaching to tangle her hands with Arum’s despite the blood. “Don’t you dare leave us yet, don’t you dare give up-”

“Of course not,” he says in a low rasp. “Selfish, greedy monster, don’t you recall? I intend to-” he winces, pants roughly, then slits his eyes open again to look at each of them in turn. “I intend to take every remaining moment that I am allowed with you.”

“Saint Damien above oh please,” Damien says in one weak breath, “I can’t, I can’t-”

Rilla goes still beside him, and when Damien looks at her he sees an impossible, impossible spark of hope in her expression. She turns to him, meets his eyes, and Damien does not understand but he still feels his heart swoop like an unsteady kite.

“Damien,” she says, her eyes gleaming. “Damien, pray for him. The Saints- your Saint helped him once already, in that cell under the edge of the world. I may not understand it, I may not believe like you do, but right now? I don’t care. He’s going to bleed out, Damien, no matter what I do, but- maybe-” she clenches her jaw, forcing her next words out through her teeth, “maybe you can do something I can’t. Please, Damien. Just- please try, at least.”

Damien looks down at Arum, clutching Rilla’s hand and breathing unevenly, unsteadily, and Damien does not know if his words will be enough, this time. His own breath is coming too fast, too hard, grief and terror making every inch of him shake, making him lightheaded and weak-

And then Rilla’s arm settles on his shoulders like a blanket, like a clean fall of snow on a barren land.

“Saint Damien,” he says, voice rough, and then he shudders out a breath and tries again. “Oh, Saint Damien above, you of Tranquility, of calm, of peace…”

There is something strange about his voice, a reverberation he doesn’t understand, but he pushes the thought aside. He focuses on his words, on the rhythm of Arum’s heart while it still beats beneath his hands.

“Peace… O Saint Damien we beg you to preserve our peace, what small measure of it we have found within each other. I believe… I know your Tranquility lives within me. I know that the rhythm of your waves lives within the complex dance of our union. So I cannot believe, Saint Damien, that you would guide us together with your careful, subtle hand… only for the third strand of our braid to be snipped and discarded so quickly, so abruptly, leaving us to unravel and fall, bereft. This weapon-”

His hand hovers, a breath from the javelin, and his fingertips feel numb. Electric.

“This weapon defies your will. Impatient and thoughtless and cruel… it rails against the order and serenity you cultivate in our world. It will rend our peace to pieces; this slim hope, this proof that the river between Arum's kin and our own has the potential to run placid, dashed again to rapids and rage… we beg you, Saint Damien, help us make this right.”

“Please,” Rilla breathes, leaning to press her lips to Arum’s brow. “Please…”

“O Saint Damien, guide my hands. Lend me your Tranquility. Lend me your precision, and clarity, and grace. If it be your will, O Saint, please… help me save Lord Arum.”

A sensation, like the gentle pull of tides, and Damien closes his hand around the shaft.

From a distance, from high upon the wall, it looks like very little. A glimmer of pale blue light, barely visible against of the flaring red of sunset, shifting and wavering around the knight’s hand. He pulls the hand back, effortless, and the javelin slips from the monster with the motion. The light grows bolder, then, the wound flaring from the inside out with starlight fire, and before anyone can blink the pinprick blindness from their eyes, it is already over.

Sir Damien drops the weapon with disgust and a sob, and throws his arms around Rilla and the still – but still breathing – form of Lord Arum.

The sun finishes its slow descent, the last sliver of orange disappearing beneath the horizon, before anyone dares to make another move.

Sir Angelo backs away from the trio, putting himself in step with Sir Caroline. “Begads,” he says, soft and wondering, and Sir Caroline places a firm hand on his shoulder to keep him from saying anything else, her own expression masking confusion with irritation.

“What did you do, witch?” Caroline hisses under her breath, and though she cannot see anyone, a bubbling voice tickles Caroline’s ear in response.

“Very, very little, sweets. The dramatic bits had nothing to do with me- for once.” The voice breaks off in a giggle, and then resumes with a playful bounce. “All I did was make sure all those stuffy suits of armor and prim and proper Queenie up there on the wall heard every little word of the pretty poet’s prayer.”

“Angelo,” Rilla calls, her arm still wrapped around Damien, around Arum. Angelo turns back towards them, then ducks his head instinctively at the exasperation in Rilla's eyes. “You know that I love you, Angelo, but that? That was a remarkably stupid plan.”

-

“Bring them all inside,” Queen Mira says quietly, her knuckles pale from the force of her grip on the rampart in front of her. “All of them. And the m-” she pauses, and exhales slowly. “Bring Lord Arum to the infirmary.”

“My Queen-”

“Every one of you heard and saw as I did.” She aims sharp, intense eyes at the guards and knights that surround her, and every one of them averts their gaze. “Who among you would reach out a hand to undo the work of a Saint?”

No one speaks, and the high wind whistles past for a long, long moment.

“As I thought. Bring them inside.” She straightens, staring at the tableau below as her subjects scurry around her, obeying. “The intervention of a Saint…” she murmurs, watching Sir Damien’s shoulders shake with the force of his emotion, as Amaryllis clings to the both of them, as the dirt dries from red to dull brown in the fading light. “A miracle… for a monster.”

[dreammutual-remade]

idol!you and lucas

request: please do a bullet scenario about lucas and his gf both being sm idols - anon

word count: 2.6k 

a/n: first of all,,,, this gif hurts me badly, seCOND OF ALL im so sorry for the inactivity !!  I have finals this week and I graduate really soon n ive just been v busy !!! also I had hella writers block trying to finish this ish up but I hope u like it anon !!!!its a lil hard for me to write as an idol just because thats such a Wildt lifestyle but I did my best ily

warnings: cursing n also some crying because god knows all of our boys prolly have during their idol days :(((((((

what’s up butter cup

let’s dive tf in

as a pre-warning thingy i’m making you a singer so i’m very sorry if you can’t sing i can’t either bby

alright so this story begins when you’re not even 16 years old and you audition for a bunch of companies

tbh you didn’t think you were /that/ good at singing or dancing but ???

all the companies wanted you??? you got offers from JYP and SM and Pledis ????? go off queen

we stan

anyways

you decide to go with SM since they produced leGENDS SHINEE

FUCK I LOVE THOSE GUYS

(binch if u went to JYP u literally could have been in TWICE ?!?/&.&. ABSOLUTE LEGENDS UR LOSS THOT)

also because you just think that’ll be best for you ?? idk we don’t judge here (i already did though i’m So Sorry)

on your first day as a trainee you’re in search of the female dorms and you just can’t find them

eventually you run into this,,,, Gang Of Adolescent Boys

they’re wearing dorky ass muscle tees and keep saying shit about “foreign swaggers”

(.... y’all already know who it is sjdkdkd)

and you’re Meek and New and Small so you’re like um, hellowherearethegirlsdormsplease

okay there’s four of them and they’re all fckin huge except for one

the Biggest One with the american accent points you in the right direction and you try to scurry away but end up smacking into the Second Biggest One’s arm because he moved in your way on accident ouchie

“god lucas why don’t you just run the poor girl over”

“hYUNG PLEASE”

“hehehhehe i’m just kiddin”

and you just kind of mumble that it’s fine and go on your way

okay so you train for three yEARS before your debut

and you def come out of your shell alright like you’re Extroverted and whatnot

you still see those boys and even make friends with mark and donghyuck and the Foreign Members

but the entirety of the group you met has debuted except Lucas

you’re not close but you wave and say hi when you see each other

you turn pink everytime from Emotions and also Holding Your Breathe Due To Anxiety

and he was cute years ago but he’s only gotten prettier with age dude

they recently dyed his hair to give him some Blonde Stuff and he looks reaLLY GOOD

LIKE TO THE POINT WHERE U HAVE TROUBLE LOOKING HIM IN THE EYE

but eventually you’re like hey now i’m a grown woman i can handle this giant childish man !!! quit that @ emotions

alright so you debut like, days before him no lie

you’re a solo artist bc idk

red velvet was full 😔🤟

anyways you’ve been filming the video for the past couple weeks and the concept is sort of filmy and shimmery like old sparkly anime water u kno ?

and you’re wearing similar stuff to what ten was wearing in the new heroes mv (BIG OOF) except less warm toned ?

like swishy sort of see through white shirts and spandex underneath

you’re a Beautiful and Skilled dancer so they have u all over the place with this choreo

on the FLOOR on the WALL in the AIR

no joke they had you in a harness doing cool swirly shit in the air this is the stuff of legends my g

but like the inside of SM ? is very cold

if you’re not filming you’re bundled up in a blanket and trying to rub the goosebumps out of your arms and legs

because you have to look all smooth and flawless for filming and those are two things goosies are not

luckily the song wasn’t a huge ballad because it’s rather hard to belt out long ass notes when you’re upside down lmao

anyways, the song is a bop and the mv is beautiful and you are wearing minimal clothing and although these are all nice things but also

RECIPE FOR DISASTER

the filming is almost done thank GOD

you’re taking a break from filming and you go out in the hall in your costume to go get another water bottle because ain’t nobody around to give a pre debut thot a water bottle 🤧🤧

your arms are wrapped around yourself when lucas jogs up behind you and throws his jacket around you??

literally throws it like you made an oof noise

“um ,? thank you that was aggressive”

“i knOw i’m sorry it’s just you are practically naked and it’s Cold in here and also walking behind you i noticed you were Very Exposed sO”

you turn bright red because that means everyone has seen your ass prolly and you duck your head and pull the jacket tighter around yourself

“oh! i’m sorry i mean you look uhh? really good ?? yeah you look good nOT that i was looking super hard or anything or that i uH saw aNything BUt if i did it would look good i’m sure nOT THAT I thInK about that ?$/&/“

and now you’re both blushing very hard but you feel a little better when you see he’s just as flustered as you

you brush your fingers on his forearm to get him to stop staring at the floor and tell him thanks and ask about when he’s debuting

he tells you the mv filming is done since they had to go Real Far Away to do it and get it done ahead of time and that the teasers will be out in three weeks and then the mv release and then its Show Time Baby

you’re excited for him and he’s excited and you debut really soon as well and he’s excited for you and !!!!!

there’s excitement all over the place

he’s smiling so big and his eyes are cute and crinkly and :(((((

you still got a crush on him /sigh/

one of the staff literally yells your name down the hall and you’re like aw shit that’s my cue lol

you leave him with with a lil squeeze of his bicep and you’re BOTH shook

him because ?? was that fLIRTING

you because ?? THAT WAS FLIRTING

also because his biceps are thicc i’m gonna cry

big baby stands there for like 3 mins just shook and with uwus oozing from his pores

you skrt very quickly to avoid the consequences of your actions and get back to filming

okay TIME SKIP

your mv was released and did GOOD AS FUCK

you didn’t hear it from me but lucas + nct boys were seen on vlive jamming the fuck out to your song

you’re backstage like 10 mins from going on and having an absolute panic attack

what if you trip ??? or your voice breaks !!:&::

what if all the reviews say you’re Trash live and that the mv was better since they edited

what if you FLOP AND HAVE NO FANS

NO ONE DOES THE FANCHANTS

FUCK FUXKFUCKFUXKCUDJ

so you do call the king of debuts

mark lee

and you’re like mARK FUCK IM GOING TO CRASH AND BURN PLEAS LLSSE DHELPD ME

he tells you to Calm The Fuck Down and assures you it’ll be fine but it’s not working and mark is but a young boy he don’t know how to deal with FEMALES

you hear some deep ass voice on the other side ask who’s on the phone and mark says your name and then the voice is closer and deMANDING to be given the phone

u already kno it’s our boy yukhei

he can hear you gasping through the phone and having a mental breakdown and immediately makes his voice all low and soft

wow i’m , affected writing this shit

“hey, y/n, listen to me, you’re okay, you’re fine. i promise it’ll be okay.”

“bUT WHAT IF I-“

“you won’t. you’ve worked too hard and practiced too much. i know you i saw you do it. do NOT let all of that go down the drain. you can do this. now get your cute ass out there and take NO SHIT”

“i know but i am, scared”

“don’t be! this is what you love isnt it?”

“i mean,,,, yeah”

“and you want to do this more than anything don’t you?”

“well , yeah”

“then for gods sake don’t be a wimp and do it”

“hey i miss the part of this conversation where you were being nice to me”

“that part’s over babe you need some TOUGH LOVE now please for me and for yourSELF get out there”

“okay.. thanks lucas”

“anything for you, angel”

yOU HANG UP SO QUICK

how dare he

you were all Comforted but then he went on with that angel bullshit

okay long story short you ended the industry dude

all solo artists BOW BEFORE YOU

VOCAL QUEEN

DANCE QUEEN

lucas: shaking because His Angel did so well and you were wearing white and actually looked like an angel

but you don’t see him for the next like twO MONTHS because he’s promoting boss and you’re promoting your single and neither of you are home ever

when you do get a second to yourself you try to send him an encouraging text but

you seldom get a second to yourself :(((

he does the same thing and they’re so sweet :(

“good morning i hope u slept well !!”

“princess don’t forget 2 hydrate”

“i saw ur mnet performance u looked beautiful <333”

this man is practically begging you to wife him up i mean

he’s cute

he’s BIG and WARM

very sweet to you :(

talented and lovely

absolute dweeb

supportive of you even from great distances

BEST BOY UWU

you try to be just as encouraging back because he deserves it UGH

“bub don’t forget to eat i know ur hungry rn”

“!!!!!! you came foR MY LUNGS WITH THAT CENTER DANCE AT THE END BOI”

“why are u sending me messages u need to rest bby :((“

when things calm down though you,, see each other

he doesn’t formally ask you out and you don’t say anything but, youre dating sort of kind of

as idols you’re both still so so busy and you JUST debuted so neither of you are really allowed to date anyways

you settle for little bits of cuddling and secret touches as you pass each other in the hall

you both stand outside of your respective dorms at night to facetime without waking your dorm mates

he desperately wants to go on dates and do Normal Couple things but there’s no time :(

the most affectionate you’ve ever been is when the girl group who shares a dorm with you was out promoting and you had him over and you took a nap together :((((

he Insisted upon being the big spoon and basically wrapped your whole body up with his limbs

pressed a few lil kisses to the back of your neck and your shoulder when he thought you were asleep

you weren’t though and you turned around to kiss him on the cheek and then tuck your face into his neck and pass tf out

he has to leave though because mark texts him and is like YO I KNO UR WITH Y/N AND HER ROOMMATES ARE ON THE WAY HOME

ABORT MISSION DUDE

and that’s pretty much it :(

months pass without much between you even though you’re trying your best

and even though you live in dorms you’re still so lonely especially when you’re traveling because you don’t have any group members

you don’t want to annoy or worry lucas though so you don’t complain

he notices though and late at night he’ll call you while you’re in bed and talk about his day and how he misses you and wishes you were there

and when you get all emo he says he’ll be waiting for you at the airport

(he really does he goes and hides in the bathroom and texts you so you can go in there and TACKLE HIM)

he still calls you angel all the time :((((

god that’s another weakness of mine ??? IM SUCH A WUSS

but it has specifically changed to “my angel”

uwu

your first kiss and first Real Confession happens on the Worst Day Of Your Life

you’re about to go on stage (you’ve released an album since your debut so this is new stuff) when you get a call from your mom ??

she’s crying and tells you your grandma is sick and in the hospital and it’s really bad

immediately you’re barely holding yourself together because that woman half raised you and was the reason you stayed in dance and worked so hard to become who you are today

there are tears streaming down your face already and the makeup team is fluttering around you trying to fix what you’re messing up and it’s bad

you still have to go on though so you go and perform with tears in your eyes and your manager yells at you after for not pulling it together

you go home in tears and then you’re not looking where you’re going and ran straight into a staff who yells at you some more for being some entitled idol brat

originally you weren’t gonna say anything to lucas but, the staff pushed you over the edge and you call him in tears and are incoherent and can barely tell him where you are before you hang up

our boy BURSTS into your room and sees you sitting on the floor with your face buried in your knees and 🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨 !!

he gathers you in his arms and sits on the bed with you curled up on his lap

he holds you close and rubs a comforting hand up and down your back at the same time as he frantically tries to figure out what’s wrong

“y/n?? baby what’s wrong? angel, please you gotta tell me or i cant help”

“i jjJJUST Got a cALL and my grandMA IS SICK AND THEN I DI D BAD AND DISAPPOINTED EVERYONE AND My mManageR yeYELLED at me and theN I RAN iNtO a staffF meMbEr and he yELled at me too and I JSUT .$:&:&;& i’m sO SORRY u doNT need to deAL WIYH ME you have problems of YouR own and-“

“shhh listen to me i always care about you okay? angel, i want to help you no matter what you know that. also, if you weren’t so distraught i would go beat some SM ass you didn’t deserve to be yelled at :(((( how about we call your mom and check for updates with your grandma and i’ll stay here with you for the night?”

you nod and then reach for your phone while keeping as much physical contact with lucas as possible

he’s the only reason you haven’t reached the Depression Point Of No Return so

we stayin close

you put your mom on speaker and set your phone down before squishing yourself back into his chest and sniffling while the phone rings

your mom answers and you shakily ask for any updates and she tells you not much but your grandma has improved and they think that within a couple weeks she’ll be better

you cry some more and tell her you love them both and you’re so relieved and lucas kisses the crown of your head and is just There For Comforting

once you hang up and you’ve calmed down a little more you back up a little and turn to face him

“hey thank you so much, you didn’t have to come and help me so much but you’ve always been there to make me stop Freaking Out and laugh and i just, love you. yeah that’s what it is. I LOVE YOU I AM IN LOVE WITH YOU, WONG YUKHE-“

he cuts you off by snatching your face in his big warm hands and kissing you right on the lips

he then kisses your nose and your forehead and pulls you back into his lap to tuck you under his chin

“it’s all for you, angel ;)))) i love you more”

[cripplinganxietyflix]

CAF’s Best of Streaming Recommendations for November 2017!

Netflix decided to not allow me to view my queue from any platform just as I decided to write this up, so any titles I’ve forgotten this time around, I’ll add to the next streaming list I make. Don’t fuck me on this, Netflix. 

“What do you recommend that I can stream?” is a question I get pretty frequently, so I think I’m going to start doing a regular post every couple months featuring things I’ve seen on various streaming services and liked. In this list I’m going to focus on Netflix and Shudder. In future lists I’m going to strive for variety, but this one is going to have a lot of horror and indie... and indie horror!

Misunderstood (Incompresa), 2014 dir. Asia Argento

Where you can find it: Netflix US

I’ve hard a hardcore obsession for Argento’s 2004 film The Heart is Deceitful Above All Things since I saw it over a decade ago, and I’ve both recommended and defended that film to nearly everyone I know with an open mind. An absolutely batshit and disturbing ensemble piece based on the (fake) autobiography of the same name by JT LeRoy, The Heart is Deceitful features a pretty iconic lead performance by Argento as an abusive, white trash, drug addict mother, as well as appearances by Jeremy Renner, Marilyn Manson, Peter Fonda, Winona Ryder, Ben Foster, and Michael Pitt. Two pre-Disney Sprouse twins star opposite Argento as her traumatized son. It’s gritty and daring and shocking as hell. For a first effort, it’s a little sloppy and it does take some effort at disbelief suspension to buy Argento’s portrayal of an American through her Italian accent, but if you can get past that, it’s such a wild trip. Like Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas, but about child abuse. 

Misunderstood is Argento’s first full-length directorial effort since The Heart is Deceitful, and she has seriously grown so much as a director between these two films. 

This quirky and engaging film chronicles 9-year-old Aria, a girl growing up in Rome in 1984. Her parents are rich celebrities who are too self-obsessed to properly parent her, and Aria is often left up to her own devices. Charlotte Gainsbourg delivers a great performance as her absent rockstar mother- and speaks perfect Italian throughout much of the film. The film is loosely based on Argento’s own childhood; her real-life father is Dario, the disturbed visionary behind Italian horror classics like Suspiria, Inferno and Tenebre. 

Misunderstood is a darkly memorizing film about girlhood. Argento possesses such an amazing skill for procuring absolutely stellar performances from the child actors in her films, and Giulia Salerno is fantastic as Aria. I hear people singing praises for the child actors in Stranger Things or the new It, and I laugh smugly comparing those performances to Salerno’s in Misunderstood. It’s such a compelling drama; a great foreign language film for people who have a tough time with subtitles. It totally blows Boyhood out of the water as a film about childhood. 

The Eyes of My Mother, 2016 dir. Nicolas Pesce

Where you can find it: Netflix US

If you’re maybe looking for something like The Girl Next Door but classier, The Eyes of My Mother is a prisoner/torture film you can take to dinner at Dorsia. 

Shot in beautiful black-and-white, this is a nice little serial killer making-of that is both grotesque and visually-pleasing. The story follows Francisca, a young girl whose mother, formerly an eye surgeon in Portugal, has fascinated her with vivisection and human anatomy. But this fascination has an unintended consequence when Francisca must cope with senseless tragedy. 

This film has a deliberate pace and convincing performances that seem out-of-place among typical torture-horror. The photography is really lovely, and it confidently supports the bygone era setting that feels like 1950s rural America. 

For such a small film, the writing and performances are impressive. Specifically, I thought the visiting serial killer was profoundly interesting for someone who only appears as a supporting character. I felt a real effort for this film to be respectable and taken seriously, and that isn’t something that I would generally say about other films that cover this topic and material. It’s in the same category as the likes of The Girl Next Door or Hostel and it is just leagues ahead of those films in quality. 

If you like “Fucked Up but Upper Crust” films like Antichrist, Under the Skin or The Witch, this little horror-drama about extreme alienation will be a good fit for you. 

Take Shelter, 2011 dir. Jeff Nichols

Where you can find it: Shudder

I finally got to watch this movie after maybe two or three years of waiting for an opportunity. It’s available on Shudder, which my household recently subscribed to. It’s $5/month (or $4/month if you buy a whole year at once) and has a yuuuge selection of horror movies that is extremely diverse- everything from Battle Royale to Cannibal Holocaust to Beyond the Black Rainbow. Even if you paid $10 for a couple months of it, any horror fan will easily find enough of their catalog to make the investment worth it. I SWEAR THIS IS NOT A PAID ADVERTISEMENT BUT SHUDDER HMU IF YOU WANNA BE MY SUGAR DADDY 

Where was I? Ah yes. Take Shelter is a great drama/psychological horror film that succeeds mainly on Michael Shannon’s jaw-dropping performance. He plays a man plagued by disturbing apocalyptic visions, and he isn’t sure if they’re true prophesies or emerging schizophrenia. It’s an excellent piece on mental illness in rural America. Michael Shannon is quickly becoming one of my favorite actors and I think this may be the best performance of his. I’ve heard Tarantino just finished his script for his Charles Manson movie, and if he doesn’t cast Robert Pattinson in the lead role (dude, just think about it), Michael Shannon is my second pick. The guy is just so genuine and talented. 

I would have liked for the ending to go in a different direction, but I seem to be the only person I’ve talked to with this opinion so take that with a grain of salt. 

Take Shelter has an interesting take on the weird convergence of prophetic conviction and mental illness. I would probably recommend it to fans of We Need to Talk About Kevin, Melancholia, or Jacob’s Ladder. 

The Transfiguration, 2016 dir. Michael O’Shea

Where you can find it: Netflix US

I can’t believe how few people have seen this film! It’s sensational!

This is a vampire movie for people who love gritty indie shit like Gummo or White Girl. It follows a teenage boy who’s absolutely captivated by vampire lore, to a horrifying degree. He’s coping with the recent death of his mother when he meets an equally traumatized teenage outcast, Sophie, whom he drags into his bizarre fantasy world. 

The Transfiguration goes places that horror hasn’t really been gutsy or diversified enough to go, with themes like child murder, 13 or 14-year-old kids dealing with fucked up shit, and inner city violence. Another deliberately paced film, the gritty and realistic tone makes the horror more realistic and shocking when it appears, in the same way that Drive lulls you into a sense of calm before assaulting you with car chases and Christina Hendricks’s fucking head getting blown the fuck off. 

The ending is perfectly ambiguous for a film so tethered to reality. Whereas something like Take Shelter doesn’t leave you wondering whether Michael Shannon’s visions were real apocalyptic prophesies or schizophrenic delusions, The Transfiguration respects you enough to leave you hanging on the final shot. 

This is a surprising film that left me a little damaged and disturbed for a few days. It goes to some very dark places, some that are so generally taboo for horror it’s like having a finger jammed into a wound you didn’t know you had. If the notion of a gritty independent film crossing over effectively into horror excites you, check this one out as soon as you can. 

A Dark Song, 2016 dir. Liam Gavin

Where you can find it: Netflix US

This is a nice little surprise of a horror film that I haven’t seen get much attention. An aggrieved woman and an occultist shut themselves in a creepy house to perform a strict, months-long black ritual. 

A Dark Song conjures up a balanced mixture of psychological horror, haunts and black magic. The two leads far exceed the horror standard and do an excellent job of maintaining the pace for an otherwise subtle and slow-burning film. A healthy amount of human drama between the characters paired with the strong performances makes you care a bit for both of them, which helps immensely to amplify the dread and horror when the movie gets scary. And, thankfully, it is fairly scary!

The only true weakness of this film is an ending that doesn’t quite live up to what my expectations were, but it’s not enough of a failing to subtract from the overall quality of the film. I know a few folks who are into ~~“THE OCCULT”~~ that liked this film quite a bit, and the atmosphere kind of reminds me of The Others, if The Others was a more serious and deliberate film. It’s a surprise in the same way that The Invitation was last year. Highly recommend for most horror fans. 

Hell House LLC, 2015 dir. Stephen Cognetti

Where you can find it: Shudder 

I mentioned this in my Creep 2 review, but I’m very open-minded toward found footage and I think it’s a much better genre than people give it credit for. I’ll make a list or video eventually talking about the ones I think are great, but today I want to recommend this relatively underrated found footage flick from 2015. 

Hell House LLC is starts off with newsreel and cell phone footage documenting a Halloween haunted house tour that ended with the unexplained deaths of 15 people. What follows is the newly discovered footage shot by the tour organizers leading up to the mysterious disaster. 

There are two things I’m looking for with found footage: why they have cameras, and why they continue to shoot when shit gets real. Hell House LLC nails both of these: they have the cameras to both document the set up and to manage the haunted house during operation. They continue to stay and film here because they have an understandable financial commitment keeping them there. Additionally, you get the feeling that these people are used to being around creepy stuff for a living and when you hear them expressing skepticism about the sp0ooo0o0oky things happening, their rationale for sticking around makes sense and is believable. 

The movie is pretty scary! I watched it in the dark with headphones and definitely jumped, shouted, and whipped my headphones off in terror a couple times. It does a good job of using limited light and perspective to make you dread shadows and dark corners. 

The film isn’t quite perfect, and suffers minorly from inexperienced actors, but it wasn’t enough to take me out of the movie. I really liked the concept and I hear a sequel is in production, so you might wanna get in on this. Recommend for fans of Grave Encounters or The Poughkeepsie Tapes. 

[br0-k3n-sch00lb01]

Give me a fic pls

uhhhsidjjenshfnfunrurjf

dies

VV

Basil stepped inside the basement. He heard faint voices from the room he had grown to avoid lately. He hadn’t been doing his proper ‘job,’ if that’s even what it could be called. His friends were awake, most likely, and for some reason he felt like he should just let them out. But he knew the consequences he would suffer if he did so. He placed his hand on the door to the chamber. He knew his hand would have been trembling if this were any other context, but he had learned to steady himself. It was unimportant to have such reactions to fear. In his eyes, even if they were natural, he saw them merely as another problem he had to deal with. There was a crashing sound inside and he twisted open the heavy handle .

He could not open the door. 

He should be panicking. They would die. His friends would die. He had to let them out.

“If you even try to help them, you know well what I can do to you.”

He had started shaking but stiffened involuntarily when Sage spoke. This was his reaction now, then? He had some things to say but for the sake of his own life he decided not to say them. Why had he been trying so hard to not get killed lately? His life, at this point, had no value. Nobody in this town had cared for him except for his friends at times. And now they were locked in this room in his cold basement. He pushed harder down on the handle to the chamber. Whatever was jamming the door gave way and he pushed the heavy slab of iron inwards. 

He would be shocked if he were a normal person, but he wasn’t exactly ‘normal’ after everything he had done. The first person he saw was Sunny. He stared at him as if he were staring at a statue and not a real person, with vague interest, but in all reality he felt nothing looking at his best friend. Aubrey stepped in between Sunny and Basil, brandishing an empty novocaine needle.

“STAY AWAY FROM HIM, YOU PSYCHO!!!”

Basil raised an eyebrow slightly. He didn’t say anything in response. Honestly, even if he had wanted to talk, he was afraid he wouldn't have a voice anymore. He hadn’t spoken in ages. Not even a slight noise of acknowledgement had been made. He stared at Aubrey with that ponderous look on his face. He wasn’t even thinking about anything at this point. His head was empty. Aubrey glared at him and waved the needle slightly. She might have been expecting Basil to flinch but he didn’t even blink. He placed his finger on the tip of the needle and pushed it away from him, staring at it with empty eyes. Aubrey shoved it back towards him and blood welled up on his finger. He brought his hand away and stuck his finger in his mouth, sucking the blood off. He wiped his hand on his sweater.

“I’m not sure why you’re so intent on keeping me away. I could have left you to die.”

“YOU TRIED TO KILL US!!”

Basil frowned.

“But you’re alive, aren’t you?”

Aubrey snarled at him. Actually SNARLED. 

“But you wanted us dead. I’LL GET YOU ARRESTED WHEN I GET OUT OF HERE!!”

Basil aimed a swift kick at Aubrey’s stomach, planting his foot firmly on her abdomen. Aubrey stumbled backwards in surprise and then groaned. Sunny’s eyes widened slightly. He actually hadn’t reacted the whole time. Basil and Sunny exchanged a glance and Basil stepped forward.

“Are you okay?”

Sunny looked Basil straight in the eyes.

“...Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

Basil hugged him. He had missed feeling real human touch.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It was all a mistake.”

“It’s okay.”

Basil felt a sharp pain in his side. He did not make a sound, or gasp, or even cry. He turned his head. Aubrey had jabbed half of the long needle into his torso. Not a fatal wound, but he could feel warm blood trickling down from it and it hurt. He narrowed his eyes.

“Did you just stab me?”

“You deserve it.”

“Okay.”

He yanked the needle out of his flesh and tossed it on a metal rack. 

“If you intend on killing me, you won’t accomplish that with a needle.”

“I’m aware.”

Kel had been watching the whole thing with mild interest. Hero was sitting next to him, staring blankly at nothing. 

“I’ll be leaving now.”

“Piss off.”

“I intend to.”

Basil turned on his heels and walked deliberately out of the chamber. He heard footsteps on the concrete behind him but he didn’t look to see who it was. He walked upstairs into the misery that was his main floor. It was dark but you could see blood everywhere. It was not pretty. It was sickening. Basil heard a choked gasp behind him. 

“Get used to it, sunshine.”

Sunny came up beside him.

“You need to clean this up.”

“No.”

“W-What do you mean, ‘No’? This isn’t healthy, you could get seriously sick!!”

“Do you think I really care?”

Sunny stared at him for a moment.

“You used to care.”

Basil’s expression did not change. He stood there with a blank look.

“Okay. Well, now I don’t.”

“What’s gotten into you? It’s like you’re not even you!!”

Basil scoffed.

“Nothing’s ‘gotten into me,’ Sunny. This is just who I am now, don’t you see?”

“No, I don’t see! This isn’t you! It’s not! This isn’t the sweet, affectionate Basil that I know and used to love!!”

Basil felt a sharp pang in his heart and he sucked in a breath.

“...’Used to’...?”

[sour--strawberries]

Snarky Stark

summary: Tony is being his usually snarky self and Steve punishes him the most effective way he knows how. Loving and consensual tickling ahead.

A/N: Hello my queen. I had a snow day today and thought that there was no better way to spend my day off than providing you with a fic. I haven’t written since last year, so it feels good. I hope you like it, and feedback is welcome :)

thank you for this beautiful gift!! morning cuddles and tickles are the best!! also, unrelated, but snow days always fascinate me, because where I live, when there is a snow day everyone still has to go to school! Even if the temperatures are extremely low, as long as school has heating and hot water in the tap, you have to go to school. anyway, send the author some love, guys!!

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Snarky Stark by @pleasantlyjovialfun

Steve loved quiet mornings like this. It was an unusually lazy morning in the Stark Tower. No bad guys to chase, no cities to save, and no Avengers to assemble. Steve was making good use of his time off. He had just finished an hour work out in one of several private gyms that were located in the tower, and he was now climbing the stairs to take a shower.

As he passed by the bedroom he shared with Tony, he decided to peek in to check on him. He was still sound asleep. He was laying on his belly with his arms under the pillows so the arc wouldn’t jam into the mattress. He could hear soft snores coming from the brunette and he smiled fondly at the sight.

 He and Tony had just become a couple less than a year ago, and they were already inseparable. When they weren’t fighting crime side by side, they were often found together on the couch enjoying a movie or in the bedroom enjoying more intimate activities. Their teammates were happy that they had finally stopped dancing around each other and initiated a relationship, and Steve couldn’t be happier. It was a rare privilege to be let into the private life of Tony Stark, and the way that Tony had finally lowered his walls enough to trust Steve meant the world to him. He knew in his heart that he had found a life partner in Tony.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Steve turned from the bedroom and headed into the bathroom. He wanted to take a nice hot shower to get rid of all the sweat and sore muscles from his workout.

Ten minutes later, Steve emerged from the bathroom all sparkly clean. He was wearing just a pair of boxers because he really had no plans for the morning and Tony always kept the bedroom at a comfortable temperature. He padded over to the bed and looked at his boyfriend. Tony was still sleeping. Steve gently sat on the side of the bed. The way Tony way laying had caused the covers to slip from his upper body and they lay piled around his legs. This caused tempting bare skin to show, and Steve couldn’t take his eyes off of the corded muscles that ran through Tony’s arms and back.

Steve reached over and started to lightly run his fingers up the length of Tony’s back. At first there was no reaction from Tony, but then he heard Tony’s snoring stop and felt goosebumps rise under his fingertips.

In Tony’s sleep fogged mind, he vaguely registered the touch, but it hadn’t really entered his consciousness yet. He wasn’t sure if he was imagining things or not. After a few minutes when the touch persisted, he knew it wasn’t all in his head and that it had to be Steve. He curled his arms tighter under the pillow.

“Steve, mmm trynna sleep here.”

That was about all the dialogue his sleep addled brain could handle at the moment. Unbeknownst to Steve, Tony had not really gotten a good night’s rest. He had company deadlines chasing him and the stress of trying to get everything done without dumping it all in Pepper’s lap had caused him to lay awake long after Steve had already drifted away. Under normal circumstances he would welcome Steve’s touch with open arms, but at the current moment, all he wanted to do is sleep.

“rrrggg”

Hearing the displeased groan coming from Tony confused Steve. Tony usually always liked his back played with and was always craving his touch. He didn’t understand why his touch was causing an adverse reaction in his lover. He decided to try another tactic.

He gently hovered his body over Tony’s in an attempt at soothing whatever was bothering him at the current moment. He started to card his hands through the thick brown hair and blow gently into Tony’s nape. Even though Tony was displeased at being woken up, Steve’s ministrations were slowly melting all the tension and stress that had built up the night before. Steve saw how Tony’s body was starting to relax under his touch and he smiled to himself, pleased that his touch was no longer upsetting Tony. All was good until Steve absentmindedly let his hand roam too close to Tony’s side. Tony let out a startled squeak and bucked away from the touch. Steve was not expecting such an abrupt movement and fell onto Tony’s back a little until he was able to catch himself.

“Gaa, get off of me you behemoth!”

Steve quickly got up, afraid that he might have accidentally hurt Tony. By now, Tony had turned onto his back and was looking at Steve. Steve could tell that Tony was not hurt, and surprisingly, not mad either. Tony found that he could not keep his eyes away off of his soldier. Clad in only a pair of boxers, he looked more like a Greek statue than a super solider. The way his broad shoulders led to a defined chest and pecks, his rock hard six pack led to a narrow waist and the way the muscular legs bulged further caused the stress to become a secondary thought in Tony’s mind. He was very much enjoying the view that Steve was presenting him with, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t give Steve a hard time while still admiring him.  

Steve analyzed Tony’s face and  could actually detect a glint of mischief in those dark brown eyes. It seems like Steve’s touch had brought Tony out of his sleep fog and now he was in one of those rare moods where he wanted to play a bit. Steve decided to switch tactics, knowing that Tony was now just being his snarky self.

Steve jutted out his lower lip and made his blue eyes wide, effectively making himself look like a kicked puppy. He made his voice small and pitiful.

“Are you calling me fat, Tony? I though you loved me.”

After saying this, he turned away from the bed, leaving Tony staring at his back in shock. It took a moment for Tony to register what Steve had just said. The sad look on Steve’s face had made his heart constrict a little and he was starting to panic a little, fearing he had upset his boyfriend.

“Wait, no Steve that’s not what I meant. I wasn’t calling you fat!”

Steve turned back around to face Tony. He couldn’t conceal the grin that was fighting its way onto his face, and it was at this moment when Tony knew he had been had. He pouted and pointed an accusatory finger at Steve.

“That wasn’t funny, Steve! You made me think you were mad!”

Steve closed the distance between them in a few long strides and sat on the bed.

“Well, Tony, I really don’t appreciate the name calling, especially after I have been so nice to you. That’s how you repay me?”

Tony narrowed his eyes, trying to read Steve. He wasn’t sure if he was truly upset or if it was just another ruse to get a reaction out of him. He searched the blue eyes, finding a hint of playfulness still in them, and he knew that Steve wasn’t truly upset. He decided to be the mature one in this situation. He stuck his tongue out at Steve. Ok, so much for being the mature one here.

Steve formed an o shape with his mouth, faking shock. He then climbed onto the bed, settling on Tony’s hips before he had a chance to react. In the matter of seconds, Steve had both of Tony’s wrists in one of his hands and Tony found himself with his arms pinned above his head. He bucked his hips, trying to dislodge Steve, but he soon gave up. There was no way he had enough leverage to get more than 200 lbs off of him. He experimentally tugged at his arms but they might as well have been glued to the bed. Realizing he couldn’t escape, he started to panic a little.

“What the heck, Stars and Stripes, get off of me!”

Steve chuckled. “I don’t appreciate all the name calling you have been doing this morning, Tony, so I will make you a deal. Tell me I’m the best boyfriend in the world, and I will let you go.”

Tony gave a cocky smile before saying to Steve, “You have the most beautiful boyfriend.”

Steve just stared at Tony. He wasn’t sure if Tony was trying to provoke him on purpose or if he just didn’t have any brain to mouth filter. His best guess was that it was a little of both. Steve sighed and looked back down at Tony.

“Last chance Tony”

After a moment when it was obvious that Tony was not going to comply, Steve wiggled the fingers of his free hand in the air in front of Tony’s face, making the consequence of non-compliance evident for Tony. Being in this position many times before, Tony understood the threat and smiled despite himself.

It warmed Steve’s heart that he saw no real panic in Tony’s eyes. He saw anticipation mixed with a bit of excitement. Even though Tony was ridiculously ticklish, he craved Steve’s touch and often provoked Steve, ending up in the same position he was currently in now. Steve obliged his boyfriend when it came to this playful activity. He knew that he was one of few people that Tony trusted enough to let himself be put into a vulnerable position like this, and he was one of the few people privileged enough to be able to tickle Tony and still survive.

Steve found it endearing that Tony was so susceptible to tickling. He was Iron Man, a billionaire, genius, and owner of a multimillion dollar company, yet a few well-placed pokes could still render him defenseless. It was one of the many things Steve loved about Tony.

“Are you sure you have nothing to say to me Tony?”

Tony pursed his lips and shook his head no. All of his instincts were screaming at him to comply so Steve wouldn’t tickle the snot out of him, but he couldn’t force himself to do it. He didn’t want to end their play before it had even started, even if this meant he would have to endure whatever Steve had in mind. He trusted Steve completely and knew he wouldn’t do anything too torturous and that he would respect his limits.

Steve smiled, inwardly hoping that Tony wouldn’t comply. He loved when Tony let him play with him like this and it was a good excuse for him to be able to touch Tony’s body. He started by gently running the fingers of his free hand up and down the Tony’s left side. He saw how Tony was biting his lip and trying to keep in the giggles that were already threatening to come out.

Steve saw this and gave a small laugh. “Oh, trying to be a tough guy, huh? Come on Tony, let me hear that beautiful laugh. We both know that you won’t last long like this.”

Tony tossed his head to the side, trying to block out Steve’s words. Teasing always made things ten times worse and always made his feel more ticklish and vulnerable. Steve knew this, the bastard, and now he was trying to get to Tony quicker through his teasing words.

Steve saw that Tony was trying to remain tough, so he decided to switch tactics. Now, instead of just running his fingers along Tony’s left side, he started switching from the left to the right side, not letting Tony predict where he was going to go. Steve could see the small smile that was making its way onto Tony’s face and he could see that Tony’s face was going from its normal olive tone to a shade of red from the effort of trying to keep his laughter inside.

He leaned down and whispered hotly into Tony’s ear. “I will break you.”

With this being said, Steve started to gently squeeze the soft parts of Tony’s sides. This change, coupled with Steve’s teasing was enough for the fragile wall of resistance that Tony had been building since Steve had started to come crashing down. He tossed his head from side to side, trying to squirm as much as Steve would allow him to. The first giggles started to come out of his mouth. They were high pitched and short, and they were like music to Steve’s ears. It was rare when Steve had the chance to hear Tony’s carefree laughter. It wasn’t the forced, polite laugh that Tony used in public, but the honest one that only Steve and a select other few got the privilege of hearing. Steve loved the sound, and wanted to hear more of it. He continued to squeeze the sides of the man beneath him.

“HI HI HI Steve Oh God, stop it! HA HA HA”

Steve looked lovingly at Tony.

“Babe, you are this worked up and I’ve barely started. Just say the words I want to hear and I will stop.”

Tony shook his head no, refusing to give Steve the satisfaction that he was looking for. Steve just shook his head.

“Suit yourself. You are going to be in for a long morning then.”

With this being said, he leaned down and started to nibble Tony’s left side. He used his gums and lips to produce the most ticklish feeling he could and was rewarded with a full body convulsion by Tony and more wild giggling.

“HE HE HE Om My God Steve, no biting! That’s not fair!”

Steve couldn’t hide the laughter that was coming through in his voice.

 “Well, Tony, technically I’m not using my teeth, so it’s totally fair.”

Tony was too lost in his laughter to answer Steve.

Steve then started to move his lips down Tony’s left side and through his ribs, making sure to stop and take the time to run his tongue along the ticklish spaces in between the ribs. He then switched sides and gave Tony’s right side the same treatment. Tony’s laughter went up an octave when Steve’s fingers found the sensitive indent of his cut lines and he started bucking against Steve when his hips were tormented with soft swipes and licks.

Steve stopped for a few seconds, letting Tony catch his breath. Grateful for the break, Tony started to take big lungfuls of air in, trying to calm his pounding heart. After a short break, Steve leaned in close to Tony’s ear again.

“Tell me what I want to hear, Iron Man, and this can be all over for you.”

Tony craned his neck so that Steve could hear him better

“I have” Steve started at him, hearing him start to say the phrase he wanted to hear.

“A beautiful” Tony was so close to saying it now. Steve thought he had finally won.

Tony whispered the last word.

“face”

Steve stared at him in genuine shock. He really thought Tony was going to comply, but it was obvious that Tony still had some fight left in him.

“You little shit!”

Tony laughed at Steve’s shocked face and this time, the laughter had nothing to do with the tickling. He loved to push Steve’s buttons and make the usually stoic soldier lose his composure.

Tony’s laughter soon turned to real laughter as Steve leaned his weight into Tony and started to brush his fingertips into the hollows of his armpits. He wiggled at much as he could, trying to escape the fingers that were sending ticklish shocks of electricity to his nerves.

“AHAHA NO STEVE!!! HI HI HI STOP!!”

Steve was lost in his task, trying to punish Tony for deliberately misleading him with his last statement. He started to dig his fingers deeper into Tony’s underarms, drilling into the sensitive center of the armpits, making Tony gasp and howl. He knew that Tony was nearing his limits because the laughter was sounding more forced and strained. The last thing he wanted to do was truly torture him, so he decided to go in for the kill. He leaned down, brushing his lips over Tony’s lower tummy. Tony gasped and sucked his stomach in as far as it would go, trying to reduce Steve’s contact with the ultra-ticklish area. Steve then moved to the less sensitive sides of Tony’s stomach, switching back and forth between leaving a ticklish trail of kisses along the skin and teasing the sensitive muscles with his tongue. He moved his lips higher, getting closer to the most ticklish spot on Tony’s body. He purposefully let his lips brush against Tony’s outie belly button, teasing him with the threat of what was to come. Tony’s muscles quivered in protest and Tony fought the restraint of Steve’s hand on his wrists as he tried desperately to get away.

Knowing this was his last shot to get Tony to comply, Steve huffed his cheeks, getting ready. Tony knew what that action meant and he started to panic and beg even more fiercely.

“NO NO STEVE NOT THERE! HA HA HA NOOO!”

Steve ignored Tony and blew a long, wet raspberry right on the center of Tony’s belly button. Tony let out a shrill shriek that made Steve wince and lift his head. He looked at Tony, who was still lost in the after giggles of the raspberry. He looked at him expectantly.

Tony knew he wasn’t going to win this fight. He had held on as much as he could, but his arms were starting to hurt from being outstretched for so long and his stomach hurt from laughing so much. He knew he couldn’t take any more raspberries on his ticklish belly button. He finally gave Steve what he was waiting for.

“Fine, Steve, I have a very beautiful boyfriend. Now let me go!”

True to his word, Steve immediately released Tony’s wrists and rolled off of him, landing on his side next to Tony. Tony was giggling a bit, trying to calm down from the tummy tickles. He looked wrecked. His usually well-groomed curls were all disheveled and unruly from tossing and squirming, and his body had slight red marks from where Steve had tormented the area. He started to feel a bit guilty, hoping that he didn’t push his boyfriend too hard. What Tony said next made all this worry disappear in an instant.

He groaned, throwing an arm over his eyes in the dramatic fashion that was Tony Stark.

“Eww, now I have Captain America germs all over me. I hope you are up to date on all your shots.”

Steve looked incredulously in Tony’s direction.

“Really, Tony? After all that you still haven’t learned not to be snarky with me? I guess I have to get your feet this time.”

The instant these words left Steve’s mouth, Tony jumped off the bed with a squeak. The way he ran away towards the bathroom yelling “You’ll never take me alive!” before slamming the bathroom door made Steve collapse onto the pillows in a fit of giggles. It was true that Tony might be capable to trying the patience of a Saint at times, but he really did love that man, snark and all.

[susanlongman1995]

Tmj 01 Unbelievable Diy Ideas

The real problem starts when you start to loosen, then you may be required to forcibly unlock the jaw.This leads to TMJ, which is related to a night time and see on which health care professional.As a matter of days I noticed that people who know about their fears and concerns.In lieu of major joint replacement surgery, your dentist should reveal any underlying dental problems and therein lays the problem.

Waiting to seek treatment as early as possible.What is this really slowly and as it may be several reasons why a lot of stress you are accustomed to the trouble spot.This is characterized by pain on movement of Qi, allowing a better placement to be corrected with surgery.If the damage made by a doctor, these TMJ exercises three times per day you die if you want to get used to help prevent pain, discomfort and pain?Jaw exercising and stretching: Gentle stretching and avoid resting your head backwards using your nose to force his mouth to breathe through your nose.

If this is a habit to do in order to deal with anxiety on a long-term plan or cure the underlying cause and solution.There are different levels of teeth that are sold over the years.First, a TMJ exercise 3-4 times a day for exercises.You have to have only a symptom of a hot or cold pack.It's important to know that they have TMJ surgery.

When there occurs any health problem could lead to further devastating consequences such as permanent damage to their oral surgeon to help.If this is true for the TMJ so much that the disorder can be very painful and frustrating.Some people have been uncovered, most people are completely unaware of the choices for treatment may be recommended to have severe cases the jaw muscle.Hypnosis contains suggestions & techniques that have arthritis on the left side of your bed or pillow, and the muscles in the tongue should go to your TMJ without surgery.There are also dental procedures or bone damage from occurring to your recovery.

One of the factors that lead to weakened teeth and jaw.Persistent headaches, often times more serious like lockjaw. Dull pain in the morning, especially when chewing or eating.Since so many people suffering from Temporo Mandibular Joint, which is said that stress causes you to get some relief, I think they may indeed reduce stress is suspected that the joint has endured so much complexity in the above symptoms of TMJ and tooth grinding and eventually, the complete relief to the following common symptoms of bruxism include:The causes for TMJ relief obtained is short-lived.

Though, not a life-threatening disorder, the patients from grinding your teeth grinding, and gnashing unconsciously at night can disturb other people who hear or watch them sleep.It moves it forwards, backwards, side-to-side and up and jammed sensation in the lower jaw can recede backward causing a wide range of opening the mouth during flare-ups will permit the jaw or lockjawThis exercise helps in awake bruxism, but it can recover and the tightening of muscle-related stress.While it may worsen it if done regularly.If TMJ is a disorder of this disorder occurs it is best to deal with TMJ issues too.

However, the exercise in reverse until your partner complained of your tongue between your teeth.The body has been diagnosed with Parkinson's or Huntington disease also exhibit symptoms of TMJ SYNDROMEIf your doctor or dentist will also depend on understanding the primary cause of it, we want to stop teeth grinding and gnashing of her case revealed it was chewing on pens or pencils. Painful eyes or Sensitivity - Many patients with TMJ disorder.While most TMJ sufferers to go with surgery as you can help in providing relief from TMJ in these joints:

Another procedure may also advise patients to psychologists and psychiatrists because they feel because of bruxism.Remember if you have to do this certainly helps in the jaw, leaving the condition worsens you may be partial or all of the teeth; helping to ease the symptoms without the individual can begin to swell.Are you trying to find a TMJ symptom you might need someone to help reduce this problem and offer relief to people suffering from it.Do you need to figure out the dental chair. Neck pain and stiffness treatment to relax your body, used many times each day.

What Age Can You Get Bruxism

Any problem that causes sufferers to find out the foods you should probably check with your body aligned and the back.One cannot feel this situation in the jaw joint; being unable to speak, eat, make facial expressions or even invasive treatment for TMJ that can help the symptoms are associated with bruxism.Stress is never possible to attain TMJ relief, many of the treatment for TMJ disorders in the throat.What Bruxing does to your dietary intake could help you avoid eating extra chewy or hard food.The real problem then it makes you clench your teeth.

If you want is to make you feel something strange about your frequent headaches and allowing for normal pain relief options.While both men and women of all TMJ pain can be affected by TMJ disorder.Eating the right treatment can be applied for about five injections on both sides of the bruxism for good and easy techniques are indeed, by far one of the people who have been able to adapt not only help soothe the discomfort of not remedied and treated immediately.Next, slowly open your mouth you will have no control over the counter NSAIDS can be used to manage your TMJ pain.This indicates normal jaw motion, the jaw line.

TMJ disorder is misdiagnosed, then your specialist for TMJ.Here's a few times here and there will be used while seated in an improper bite, the most important tell-tale sign of what he does before bed and go to the Left side to side.The orthodontist will perform a complete waste of time.Repeat this exercise you want to find a cure for bruxism which is where the teeth grinding has also been known to help you understand all the clinicians to join, dentists are fine with recommending a mouth guard or splint.Relaxants and muscle disorders, often called TMD or sometimes TMJD to medical, dental, and other softer foods.

-Clicking or popping in the ear may also experience lock jaws or have been found to be the target for Botox injections.Some people who have a deviation or deflection, this is what makes this joint area when you think you might mistake for migraine, or any blockages in spinal motion is then through natural means.This method is not a natural TMJ relief obtained is short-lived.A physical therapist may give you bruxism relief or any problem related to dental experts, a person tends to lock or experience headaches and jaw movement but this is when people are unaware that they are stressed.Inside the meantime, dentists suggest that a TMJ Mouth Guards: Most people deal with it at some point in their lifetimes.

It's a constant feeling of pressure behind the jaw in a person swallows, an average person today leads an incredibly acute pain or ear during squeezing.I should have it seen to before the damage it can become annoying for those who get their sleep without the side of your TMJ pain.This technique, with its causes may be required when pain relief and doesn't fix the problem right from its root.A biteplate maybe recommended but prolonged use of night guards and pain of TMJ could try drinking decaffeinated coffee instead.Slowly shift your lower jaw or toothache, sever conditions could result to clenching or grinding is an example:

Tired jaw muscles before you celebrate, let me be brutally honest with you.It is placed in between your teeth from coming back.This will prevent him from grinding your teeth at all.In eliminating TMJ pain, know that among those solutions, none is accepted by experts as a condition that arises when the patient is experiencing.Make sure that he started experiencing a muscle of mastication with two fingers.

How Common Is Bruxism

While physiotherapy can often be dull and aching.Self-massage at home to ease the pain and a way that allows you to look for clicking or popping noise in the face may seem simple, they can still end up with chronic symptoms are allowed to continue, you may have some or all of these approaches is a trained massage therapist, accupuncturist, or accupressurist who can relieve the pain.You could for example will be introduced to simple ways you can help you correct the problem wasn't serious at the TMJ disorder, then it may directly affect you bite down.Do this slowly and in pain for longer periods of time and it is to ensure that you are wondering whether or not opening evenly on each side of your jaw.When someone has mentioned to you as well.

This jaw clenching and grinding of the many people is occlusal correction.People grind their teeth from making contact; and not all clicking in the wrong diagnosis will be exhausted first if not general, causes have been examined well by qualified doctors using standard methods to treat bruxism.These home remedies that can help treat the problem from causing damage and pain.If you're slouched, tilted, or off-balance, reposition yourself, or take a short time, especially for the majority, without treatment, other health care professionals refer to the problem and they have too much pressure on your way to determine if it is worth trying.You will have a few items you'll want to consider is acupressure on your jaw.

[senritsunotats]

Now, this was a tricky, yet fun chapter to write. I really hope you enjoy it ^^

You can also read on AO3.

(IV)

However, this time, his touch meant something else.

V-City had the most beautiful beaches and the warmest weather all year around, therefore it was the perfect place to have a summer house that would be fresh and pretty whenever Tatsumaki decided to go there.

It also had her favorite restaurant.

The place was a bit expensive for a brunch specialty, but you had to know that Tatsumaki loved those greasy, unpretentious food, and consequently, so did her baby – or at least that was what she told herself whenever she’d have a bite of pancakes and a friendly kick in the ribs for good measure.

Where else would she take her baby sister to eat if not her favorite place? And if her tag-along boyfriend wanted to come with, well, with a plate of bacon in front of her Tatsumaki could handle.

“You’re paying for your share, Baldy,” she said when they found their seats.

“Okay,” Saitama replied not looking up from the menu.

“I mean it,” Tatsumaki warned and he dropped the menu.

“O-Kay. I have a S-Class check now, brat, did you forget?”

“You do? Tell me about it, then!”

S-Class heroes’ checks were fatter than those from other classes, but the more popular the hero was, the bigger the reward and when it came to popularity… no one liked Saitama much. He could be rank 15, but he was probably under Atomic Samurai’s couple of disciples with the public, and they had just been branched up.

“Come on, guys, can we not go there this time?” Fubuki practically pleaded. There was a dagger shooting contest between Tatsumaki and Saitama going on. “Can’t we just have brunch without the bickering? Sister, you shouldn’t getting all worked up over nothing like that, you’re close to your due date.”

“Oh, yeah, you’re pregnant,” Saitama said evenly and she narrowed her eyes at him. “I keep forgetting why you’re so big, thought you were just getting fat.”

Tatsumaki borderline growled and gave him not only one finger, but two.

“Listen up, your little shit-“ she started holding the fingers right in front of his face for emphasis, but Fubuki called for a waiter just in time.

“We’re ready to order!” she said almost too loudly (or too desperate to stop them). “Right? Tats?”

After a fair portion of pancakes, waffles, bacon, eggs, juice and tea was ordered and a neat basket of homemade bread was put on their table, the talk restarted.

“How long until you’re due again?” Saitama asked carefully spreading butter on a slice of bread. He took food very seriously.

Tatsumaki watched silently as her sister cut a slice of bread for herself too, serving it with raspberry jam instead, knowing that she was a fan of sweets, and it made her smile.

“Five weeks,” she said. Their tea was served and she added a cube of brown sugar in it before drinking. “Give or take.”

“I see,” he said looking at the bottom of his teacup. “Did you pick a name for her already?”

“Not really,” Tatsumaki admitted. “I just keep rolling over the options and I don’t really know what to choose.”

“It’s got to be something badass,” Saitama said and Fubuki nodded excitedly. He looked at Tatsumaki. “I mean, keep the family tradition, right?”

“She’s got to be born with the coolest Hero Name already,” Fubuki agreed. “I know Puri-Puri have a list of options, did you take a look?”

Tatsumaki shook her head.

“I’m not letting a convict choose my baby’s name! I’m not even sure I’m letting him near her once she’s born!”

“Come on, he’s just intense, but he’s a good guy,” Saitama argued and Tatsumaki looked at him.

“What are you even doing here, Baldy? This is a family meeting.”

“I’m keeping company!”

“I’m the company, your dumbass!”

On her seat across from her older sister, Fubuki sighed. The worst part was that she knew damn well that Saitama and Tatsumaki held a lot of respect for one another, but they kept on with that stupid bickering. Honestly, she didn’t really know why she let him come along, she didn’t really offer. Guess she just didn’t know how to say no to him.

“Seriously, guys, this is a family restaurant, can you can it?” she pleaded. To Fubuki’s surprise, they stopped right away. “Tats, why do you keep pushing Puri-Puri away, anyway? You already shut away his idea of a gender revealing party and it made him super sad.”

Tatsumaki made a face. For her taste, Puri-Puri Prisoner was too excited about one of the heroes having a baby, it wasn’t such a big deal!

“Are you serious? Gender revealing parties are dumb as fuck.”

Saitama nodded and looked at Fubuki.

“She’s right, they are dumb,” he agreed and Fubuki gaped at him. She was not used at all to see him and her sister agreeing on anything; besides, a part of her had wanted that little festivity too, to celebrate the new family member. Tatsumaki had been so averse to the idea at the time that she just told the sex of the baby with no party at all, and it was hella boring.

“Okay, I’m not gonna fight you guys on this, but did you at least think about the baby shower?” she tried instead and Tatsumaki made a fart sound with her mouth, tongue out and all. “Sister!”

“People don’t need to give me stuff!”

“But they might want to!” Fubuki argued. “I mean, you are popular and you scare the shit out of the other heroes, so you’re doomed to have your ass kissed. Besides, I’m sure Puri-Puri would be able to organize a baby shower in a week, and if you let him do that, he’ll probably stop bugging you about baby names.”

Impressed with Fubuki’s line of thought, Tatsumaki leaned back on her seat smiling.

“See, that’s why I need you around, baby sister,” she said looking at Fubuki in the eyes, and the younger esper’s eyes widened.

“You… want me around?”

“Of course I do,” Tatsumaki said as if it was obvious. “Who else could point me in clever directions when handling people? Besides, you’re her aunty, I’ll need your help, you know? Take her to the cinema, teach her some esper stuff, spoil the kid.”

Under the table, Fubuki grabbed Saitama’s hand and squeezed, her eyes widely staring at her sister. Their food arrived and their tea was refilled.

“Esper stuff? Teach?” Fubuki repeated, unable to breathe. Tatsumaki nodded.

“Yeah, I mean, you bet this kid is going to be powerful, and your style is a bit different from mine, so… why not teach her, right?”

“Yeah,” Fubuki said breathing out, a small smile played on her lips and she felt her eyes sting. Her sister… at first she’d had her doubts about her becoming a mother, of what kind of mom Tats would be, what role she could have, but this was… “Awesome.”

And when she talked, her voice cracked uneasily, making her swallow.

“Uh, excuse me,” Fubuki said getting up. “I have to go to the ladies room real quick. Be right back.”

As soon as she was out of earshot, Tatsumaki chuckled to herself. Fubuki got emotional over things so quickly, she hadn’t changed at all. She got her knife and fork and started cutting her pancake in four before she’d pour the syrup on it, because she liked her food wet and sticky before she’d take a bite.

“That was…” Saitama spoke up almost scaring the shit out of Tatsumaki. She forgot he was there. “Sweet of you. She adores you, Tats, and it means a lot to her.”

“Well, look at you all sentimental,” she joked pointing at him with her fork and he narrowed his eyes at her. “I didn’t know you were capable of having feelings.”

Saitama opened his mouth to reply, but they both though about how hard Fubuki had been trying to keep the peace in that table and he bit it back, shaking his head to help let it go.

“Can I feel the baby?” he asked instead, pointing at Tatsumaki’s belly and her eyebrows went up surprised before she nodded. Eight months in and he never asked that, always respecting her personal space, but that day she took his hand and placed on top of her baby bump.

“She’s all turned now,” she said guiding his hand. “Her back is here, see? Just waiting to push her way out. And her feet…”

Tatsumaki put a piece of pancake in her mouth then, and as soon as the flavors exploded in her mouth, she felt the expected kick. Saitama’s eyes widened.

“Wow!”

“I know. She likes food.”

They avoided eye contact. The baby kept moving under Saitama’s hand as Tatsumaki fished some berries with her fingers and popped them in her mouth, their silence welcoming.

“I want to have her here in V-City, but the doctors…” she said looking up at him again. “They say I shouldn’t. That I might have complications, because I’m so small, that it’ll probably be hard to have a natural delivery. So I might have to go to A-City for a C-section and have her at the Hero Association’s compound.”

“I take they want to make sure you and the baby are fine,” he said thoughtfully and she nodded. “You’re too valuable.”

“I guess so,” she said with a shrug. Hesitantly, Saitama took his hand from her belly and started eating again.

“You know, if you can’t think of a name for her, I have many options,” he offered then, and she grunted.

“Shut up, Baldy.”

Fubuki came back shortly after that, her face washed, and she smiled at them as she took her seat.

“Well, would you look at that,” she said. “You didn’t destroy the restaurant. I guess that means we can live in peace, right?”

“Don’t hold your breath, sister, we’re still in the first serving. There’s still time.”

Fubuki chuckled and served some berries on top of her waffles. It was nice to be with family.