#i've never lost mail before i moved out to the middle of nowhere

[pumpkingeorge]

The mailman steals my mail. My packages go missing and it is useless trying to get them back if the mailman loses them. I have lost precious things in the mail and if he loses my Transformers comic I am going to scream.

[jessicanjpa]

poison, or, Carlisle becomes a jeweler

An excerpt from this 1933 one-shot. The Cullens are taking sorta-newborn Rosalie out in public tonight, and she wishes she could have pierced ears again. Rosalie POV.

It was hard to decide which was worse, the smell of the baking cookies or the paint fumes coming from my bedroom. I finally went outside to lounge on one of the patio chairs, watching the clouds and ignoring the book in my hands. I had tried and given up on three hairstyles already, and frustration wasn't good for my thirst.

Carlisle came home early. He didn't usually work the day shift, but he had arranged to have tonight off because of the play.

"Hello, Rosalie," he said as he drew back down the garage door. "You look lovely today… a new dress?"

"Yes, Esme found it earlier this week."

He nodded absently and headed for the back door. But he paused halfway up the walk, sniffing the air and making a face. "Good heavens," he murmured. "What is going on in that house?"

"Cookies and paint," I explained, giving him a faint smile.

"I think I'll join you out here, then… as long as possible." He sat in the other chair, his eyes drifting briefly to the book in my lap. He looked awkward for a moment and then appeared to gratefully discover the pile of mail in his hands. I sighed and stared back up at the clouds. Why could we move faster than the human eye could see, but we couldn't speed up time? Each day seemed to grow longer. It was so dull sitting here in the middle of nowhere with nothing but birds and clouds for company. And I certainly didn't want to sit out here in awkward silence with Carlisle.

"Can't take the smell anymore," Edward grumbled as the back door banged behind him. He nodded to Carlisle in greeting. "I'm going down to the river for a while."

"You're all cowards!" Esme shouted from inside the house. At first I thought she was angry, but Carlisle was doing that laughing-silently-while-reading thing.

"Rosalie wants her ears pierced," Edward announced over his shoulder just before he ducked into the woods.

When are you going to learn to mind your own business?! "Never mind," I growled to Carlisle, who was looking at me thoughtfully.

"I'm sorry," he said, "but I don't have anything that would be able to pierce the skin, aside from…" He trailed off, making an uncomfortable gesture toward his mouth. I clenched my teeth and looked back up at the clouds. I wasn't going to dignify that with a response.

"Yes you do!" Edward called from the woods.

"No I… oh, yes I do," Carlisle murmured to himself. He was silent so long that I thought perhaps he had left, so I finally looked up at him again. "I could try," he told me. "I admit I've never done that particular procedure before, but… I actually do have something that might work."

I frowned. "What?"

"Something a friend once gave me, long ago…" he trailed off. His eyes glazed over in that way they did when he got lost in his memories. He stood, turning towards the house. "Join me?"

My curiosity was even stronger than my sense of smell, so I went with him back into the house and upstairs into his study. I had never been in here before. The walls were packed with bookcases, and books were also overflowing off of some smaller shelves that had been hung on the walls. Besides the hundreds of books—some old, some new, some in other languages—there were stacks of brittle, yellowed paper, all sorts of paintings covering every inch of the walls above the bookcases, and little odds and ends dotted around the room.

A huge ornate desk filled a good quarter of the room, strewn with even more books and crisp-looking medical journals, as well as a framed picture of himself, Esme, and Edward with the Statue of Liberty in the background. The air was heavy with dust and mold, as well as some sharper smells coming from a little row of vials up on one high shelf. I never would have guessed Carlisle could be so sloppy. Hadn't they only lived in this house for two years?

"I think it's in this one," Carlisle said absently. He knelt down by a trunk and flipped open its latches. It opened with a creak. After setting aside a stash of papers, Carlisle drew out what looked like a jewelry box. It was beautiful, delicately carved out of some dark wood with twining leaves and animals and stars. Tiny rubies had been set as the eyes in each of the animals, and some of the stars were inlaid with diamonds.

I couldn't begin to guess how much the box was worth. Carlisle carried it to the desk and opened it, revealing a bed of red velvet on which rested a neat row of white instruments. I supposed they were medical instruments: there were three blades, all different sizes, and two needles, one with an eye and a smaller one without, and a long hook-shaped thing, and two other sinister-looking objects that I hadn't the faintest guess about. Carlisle selected the smaller of the two needles.

"I don't know," I said, drawing away slightly. "What is that even made of?"

"Bone," he said absently, examining the needle with interest. "Vampire bone, I mean. I think it would work," he added to himself, testing the sharp point with his fingertip.

"Ugh! What kind of friend gave you that?"

"Do you remember what I told you about the Volturi? The coven in Italy?" I nodded. "Aro is one of the three who rule jointly. He was the one I spent the most time with during my time there. I found a sort of kindred spirit in his company. We differed on a great many issues, but we shared a deep curiosity about the nature of things, the sciences in particular. He has also made an extensive study on the supernatural world as a whole, both the mythical and…" he smiled. "Things that should be mythical. He has performed and compiled a great deal of research regarding our species.

"Anyway, Aro was quite amused with my desire to learn and practice medicine. Sadly, like so many of our kind, he does not share our respect for the sanctity of human life… he could not understand why I would trouble to devote myself to their care. He also had an interesting sense of humor, to say the least. When I took my leave of his coven, he presented me with this. I can't imagine how many hours it took him to fashion these." He looked back at the other instruments. "I suppose he copied their design from some of my regular instruments. He said I would need a proper set of tools, in case I ever got tired of patching up humans and decided to care for my own species."

"But why would you need these?" I asked. "You told me that we hardly ever get hurt, and that our bodies just repair themselves if it does happen."

He laughed again. "I think it was meant as rather a joke. I couldn't fathom a scenario where a vampire would require any medical procedure involving tools such as these… until today, that is!"

I twisted the silk of my skirt between my fingers. "And you think it will work on my skin? Would it hurt?"

"I don't think it would hurt any more than when you had your ears pierced before… at least not the bit with the needle. But in order for the hole to remain open, I'll need to apply just a bit of venom. I think that might sting, though it'll only be on there for a moment."

I squeezed the fabric tighter between my fingers, shaking my head. "I don't want your mouth on me again."

"No, of course not," he protested, quickly crossing the room to retrieve the black bag he took to work every day. He set it on the desk beside the carved box and drew out a small silver case. I frowned, expecting some other bizarre collection of implements, but it only contained a few cotton swabs, a small bottle of clear liquid, some gauze, and various other tools that a real doctor would actually carry around.

"What are you two working on?" Esme asked, tapping on the door as she came in.

"Making strides in vampire medicine," Carlisle announced cheerfully. "Although in this case I might be more of a jeweler than a surgeon… Rosalie is thinking about having her ears pierced."

Esme looked surprised. "We can do that?"

Carlisle went over the explanation again, enthusiastically showing her the bone instruments. She wrinkled her nose. "And whose bone is that, exactly?" she asked.

"I don't know," Carlisle admitted. "Aro always had various odds and ends lying around. Anyway, I was explaining to Rosalie that in order for the holes not to close again, I'll need to apply a bit of my venom." He flourished one of the cotton swabs, and then dug inside his black bag again, retrieving an empty syringe. "I could fill this with water and irrigate the wound to clean out the venom. If it goes according to plan, the venom will scar the damaged tissue just enough for the hole to remain open. Well, Rosalie, shall we try it?"

"I don't know," I muttered, staring at the needle in his hand and trying to imagine a dead person's bone being stabbed through my ear.

"I'll do it," Esme volunteered.

"Have you ever done it before?" I asked doubtfully.

"No!" she laughed. "I meant, I'll have mine done first. You can watch, and then decide if you want to go ahead with it."

"Oh. All right."

"You're sure, love?" Carlisle asked her. "It would be quite permanent."

"I would have done it years ago, had I known it was possible! Well, where do you want me, doctor?"

He decided that she should sit in the chair behind his desk, so that she could lay her head down on her arms with her ear up to the ceiling. He retrieved an old towel and draped it over her neck and shoulder, clearing away her hair.

"Saline or regular water for the irrigation?" he asked nobody in particular. "Saline, surely… fewer impurities that might interfere with tissue fusion…" He filled the syringe with the clear liquid that had been in the little bottle. He squirted some of it onto the needle and carefully wiped it dry with the gauze. But as soon as he brought the needle close to Esme's ear, it snapped in half in his fingers. He stood back up, staring at the rubble in his hands as though he had just witnessed a miracle.

"Fascinating," he mumbled, studying the jagged, broken ends of the needle. "I didn't expect…" He stopped breathing completely, lost in thought, and then began murmuring more long words to himself.

"Can we still use one of the pieces?" Esme asked. "Carlisle?"

He blinked and seemed to remember that we were in the room. "I have another… just the one, though. I'll be more careful this time." He cleaned the larger needle with the saline, this time handling it as if it were made of glass. "Ready?" he asked Esme.

She hummed her consent and he went to work, ever so carefully pushing the needle through the stone flesh of her earlobe. There was an odd little screeching sound, like an animal was screaming far out in the woods somewhere. Esme flinched slightly and he froze in place. "No, I'm fine; it doesn't hurt much," she reported, her voice muffled by her folded arms and sleeves. "The noise just startled me."

He withdrew the needle and immediately picked up a cotton swab, whisking it inside his mouth for a moment to coat it with his silvery venom. Esme's brow furrowed as he dabbed the venom into the puncture wound, and despite myself I leaned closer in curiosity, trying to catch a glimpse inside the torn flesh. I couldn't see much; the flesh was white inside, but the venom was already doing whatever it did. Next he gathered a handful of the towel directly under her ear and used the syringe to wash the venom out.

"Does it sting?" he asked her worriedly.

"It did, a bit," she answered. "When you put the venom in it. But it's gone now—oh!" She sat up suddenly, raising her hand to her ear. "It's feeling sort of tickly now."

"I think that's the tissue healing," Carlisle said. "We'll have to see if the venom worked like I thought it would. I don't know if I left it on long enough." We all waited, Carlisle and I watching in fascination as the miniature wound shrank somewhat. But his plan had worked; the healing soon slowed to a stop, leaving a hole that looked almost normal, if too large by a hair's width.

"Feels right," Esme said, tugging curiously on her ear. "Rosalie, would you get the earrings so we can try it?"

I dashed out and back in, and handed her the earrings. She carefully slid one into the new hole and pronounced the procedure a success. Carlisle went to work again and soon she was smiling into her hand mirror, wearing both earrings. The second time had looked easier, and it looked like the damage had been perfectly symmetrical.

"All right, I'll do it," I announced.

"You could wear these tonight," Esme said, taking the earrings back off. "They're perfect with that dress."

"But then you won't have anything to wear tonight," I pointed out, though I held out my hand to accept them.

"Oh, that will be soon remedied," she promised. "You could help me pick some out... Carlisle, when do you think she could go out shopping?"

"Shopping?" Carlisle said, his eyes darting to mine. "That's quite a jump from an outdoor concert at night."

"I'm doing well," I interrupted. "Aren't I? You've said it before. And the only way to get used to moving around people is to move around them."

Carlisle focused on the needle for a moment, carefully scrubbing it again with the saline. "I suppose you're right," he said uncomfortably. "It's just that you're doing so well that everything is quite ahead of schedule, and your eyes are still red. All it would take is for someone to accidentally cut themselves…"

"Please, Carlisle," I moaned. "I'll be careful, and I'll keep my eyes down. And Edward could come with us, or you, just in case. I just want to get out and do things again!"

"Perhaps after we've moved…" He was weakening. I was proud of my self-control, because I wanted to shout at him that it was his fault I couldn't be around people, but I didn't. He would only get that miserable look and use it as proof that I wasn't ready, and I was ready. I had to be.

"So this can be a test tonight," I offered, pleased with how calm I sounded. "If I do well again—and you know I will—then I can go out with Esme. We could wait until next week."

Carlisle frowned. "We'll see how tonight goes," he agreed. "Then we'll take it from there. If you do well, perhaps our next step could be an event indoors, but in a large space—another concert or play, where everyone is seated and we can stay out of sight."

Fury welled up inside me, all the more potent because I couldn't let it show. I smiled instead, almost feeling my stone flesh cracking from the tension as I forced it out. "Whatever you say. But I know I can do it."

"And confidence is important," Carlisle replied. "But so is prudence."

"Carlisle's right, dear," Esme soothed. "One day at a time… we have all the time in the world, after all. No rush."

I kept my mouth shut after that, afraid I would lose my shaky grip on my temper. It had been her idea to go shopping in the first place, but of course she would side with Carlisle as soon as he opened his mouth! I sat down and laid my head in my arms, refusing to wince as the needle stabbed through my earlobe with its little shrieking sound.

Carlisle left the needle in place this time while he prepared the venom, and then he slipped out the needle. He quickly applied the cotton swab, coating the edges of the wound with his poison as he spun it around.

My fingers crushed my hair as the familiar flame began to burn its way into the torn flesh. Only for a second, I told myself firmly. It won't be like before. But I could already feel the phantom flames creeping down my neck and out my arm; it seemed like only a moment ago I had been drowning in the lake of fire. My insides twisted and my breath quickened.

"Get it out," I demanded, my nails digging into the polished wood of his desk. "Get it out now!"

Carlisle hastily switched the swab for the syringe and then flooded the wound with the saline. Almost immediately the flame was quenched. "I'm sorry," he said, filling the syringe again and soaking the shoulder of my dress as he pumped more saline into my ear. "Did it hurt very much?"

"Of course it hurt," I hissed, sitting up and kneading my ear. "I'm fine. Let's get the other one done."

"You're sure?"

"I can't very well go around with one pierced ear, can I?" I snapped. But I drew a deep breath, forcing myself to look up into his wounded eyes. "I'm sorry… I'm sorry. I know you're doing the best you can. Let's just get it over with, please."

He worked quickly. The flames were smaller this time, and he worked in a blur so that the whole thing was over in less than ten seconds. He cleaned up while I tried on the earrings.

"Perfect," Esme proclaimed, giving me her warmest smile.

[gwemmieee]

I was disabled for a year by a car accident and I would've been dead in debtor's prison within the first couple months without the friends and family who went above and beyond to help me. The social safety net was maybe 1% of the bare minimum that would have been enough. The hospital neglected me to abusive levels and wasn't willing to hold onto me for more than a month. My area had no nurses to come see me at home. The people who did help me had to put up with--if you think of helping me as a job--cruel and unusual levels of overtime, challenging new tasks, and crazy long distance travel. Insurance covered the hospital bills but it didn't cover a cent of all of the money we had to spend out-of-pocket on medical supplies *necessary for my continued survival* that the hospital refused to supply us with enough of because they were running out and they didn't give a shit. My parents and closest friend had to scramble to an impound lot on short notice just to make sure I wouldn't lose my insurance payment or most of the stuff in my car (a lot of it was already stolen). The state disability insurance office could only give me 50% of my income, right when living is WAY more expensive because I'm disabled, and made me wait 6 months for the first check, and continued to harrass me and switch payments off every 3 months after that until I redid all the bureaucracy over again, even though their closest office in-person is 2 hours away and their phones literally do not answer, ever, and they don't do e-mail. The simple fact that being disabled put me under the poverty line disqualified me for a PPO plan under Covered California and forcibly pushed me onto Medi-Cal, which meant I suddenly had to scramble to get my primary care provider to re-authorize new referrals to the crazy amount of care I was receiving and relying on (including for my injuries AND HRT!), and I lost access to physical therapy and regular therapy because no physical therapists or regular therapists in my area take Medi-Cal. I also lost the ability to have all that much power over which doctors I can even see, which means if the one I've got sucks, well that's it. Doctors suck very often. Literally most of them are terrible. Especially if you're trans and neurodivergent.

I had to personally undergo a lot, too. I had to stay friendly, polite, and deferent in the face of extreme abuse and neglect from everyone around me, from the hospital to my own parents. I had to survive in the middle of nowhere with no resources other than my own will to live, which definitely wavered at certain points. I became completely beholden to an abusive household that constantly guilt-tripped me for my own injuries, for half a year. I had to be industrious. I had to decide on my own not to kill myself. I had to jump into online spaces and find people who would support me, if only over the internet, and get my hands on a VR headset and get into VRChat just to not go insane from isolation. I had to rely on HRT, which I was finally starting in that period, to revitalize me and give me new wings I never had before. I had to work my ass off full-time, with maximum care and attention, literally meditating my way to listening to my body's signals in an arm that I'd almost lost, that was full of skin grafts and missing bone, and partially numb, to miraculously recover from my injuries on a level the doctors had never seen before and fully didn't expect. I had to get extremely lucky in every way, from the talents and skills I'd acquired before, to the people I've met and connections I've made, to reach a point where I'm almost ready to move away to a much better place and start a new, much better life, and the only reason I'm not totally screwed in terms of healthcare for the next year is because I'm getting the fuck out of California in favor of Washington. Many important treatments are literally on pause until I get there.

Every time you ever appreciate anything about me, or the fact that I'm still breathing, remember the countless people out there who have less access to family/friend help than I did. Who weren't as lucky as me. Who didn't make it. All so that fuckwads like Elon Musk can have a bunch of paper in a bank going towards whatever project his naive manchild whims think are good ideas (and he's always wrong). Capitalism is evil and human civilization as we know it is either going to die in fire (literally) or adopt a culture that values EVERYONE'S life and happiness over how hard we work or how much output we produce.

And before you blame me, no, the accident wasn't my fault. I was literally going 20 miles an hour, focusing on the road, being careful, in a fully maintained and functioning car, when bad road conditions were bad enough to cause it to tip over, and gravity forced my arm and head to fall out of the broken window and into the ground, grinding. The airbags did not fire. I don't want to drive a car ever again. I strongly recommend that literally everybody stops driving tall SUVs that love to tip over.

[bi-bard]

Protection - Jack Kline Imagine (Supernatural)

Title: Protection

Pairing: Jack Kline X Reader

Request: by @gabrielasilva1510

Word Count: 1,181 words

Warning(s): violence, death

Summary: (Y/n) never thought they'd have control over their power... until they found someone who could match their ability.

Author's Note: Anyway... for those who send in requests like this (which I don't mind, I've just gotten two requests referencing this character)... I was the DC kid in my family (the DCEU, Arrowverse, y'know?) so my knowledge of the MCU is very, very limited. I am trying to get better but it's a lot to get through.

I changed the colors of the reader's eyes when they use their power because red is the same as Lucifer so... y'know...

Hey! I did a rewrite of the ending of Supernatural. It took a really long time to complete, so it would mean a lot to me if you check it out. Here’s a link! (it’s on my personal account)

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I remember the first time my powers appeared. I was young, confused, and easy to anger.

My parents had been yelling at me about something that I didn't know was wrong. I was terrified and angry and then, a toy flew off the shelf behind me and hit the wall right behind where they had been standing.

I remember their faces. Eyebrows furrowed, mouths agape, and lost for words. My mom started shaking and my dad led her out. I sat in my room and waited for them. It was my first time seeing my powers but I didn't quite understand the fear they held.

Then, when I was a teenager, I lost control for real. I had hurt someone I cared about and when I had family confronting me, I was desperate for them to forget about it and stop being mad at me... and they did. It was like a piece of their memory had been taken out.

I knew by then that I was hopeless. After years upon years, I was still a hopeless disaster.

So, I ran away.

I hid away wherever I could.

Until it happened again.

I had found a place to stay. It was pretty far in the middle of nowhere and I only had to go into town once a week. I'd pick up my mail and grab my groceries before going back to my little cabin in the woods.

Then, some man tried to grab me. I didn't know what he was going to do and I absolutely panicked. As he dragged me into the alley, my powers threw him back against the wall. His head hit the bricks behind him and he fell to the ground, a streak of blood following his body.

Except, it didn't just hurt the man who grabbed me. I look to the street outside the alley to see a teenager laying on the ground. I saw the blood surrounding his head.

I panicked again, using my powers to fly out of there. I was sobbing as shaking. I landed outside my small cabin and ran inside.

I curled by the locked door, knees to my chest as I sobbed.

"Why do you keep hurting people," I cried. My fingers dug into my knees.

After what could've been hours of sobbing, I found myself falling asleep by my door.

A few nights later, I woke up to noises outside. I had started sleeping on my couch. My bed just wasn't comforting me.

I stood up, pressing my ear to the door. I heard three voices talking. I jumped away from the door when one of them knocked.

Who were they? How did they find me so fast?

"(Y/n) (Y/l/n)," one of them called, knocking again.

"Who are you," I asked, not opening the door.

"We're F.B.I," the man replied. "We're just here to ask you some questions."

"I...I'd rather not talk to you," I called back. I moved farther and farther from the door.

"(Y/n), please open the door," the second man called. "We think the information you have could really help us."

"Help you with what," I asked.

"The murder investigation," the first voice spoke again.

I shook my head, knowing they couldn't see me. They called out a few more times. I didn't budge.

Suddenly, the door was busted in. I yelped, falling to the ground and covering my head. I surrounded myself with a forcefield, letting my power throw the men into the farthest wall.

I looked out at the men.

Two of them had been thrown away from me, now laying on the ground.

The third looked younger than the other two. They were unaffected by my power. Their eyes were glowing gold. That must have been why they was still standing straight.

They slowly walked toward me. I stood up, forcefield still going. I continued walking backward, away from them. My back hit the wall and the person stood a little ways back from me. The gold in their eyes faded and I was met with these beautiful, innocent, kind eyes.

"Hello," they said softly. "I'm Jack."

"I'm... I'm (Y/n)," I replied hesitantly.

"Nice to meet you," they offered me a kind smile. "I can see you have a lot of power. So do I."

Behind them, I saw the other men stand up, silently checking on each other.

"We're not actually the F.B.I," they mumbled. "We can help you control your power."

"You can," I asked. Them and the other two men nodded.

"You can stop being so scared," Jack promised.

"So I don't hurt anyone," I mumbled.

Jack held a hand out to me. A silent form of comfort and help. I let my forcefield fall as I reached forward and grabbed their hand.

There was a shock. I looked at their face. Their eyes were golden again. They seemed just as shocked.

"Did you know your eyes turn bright green when you use your powers," they asked. I shook my head. I knew the waves from my powers were green but I didn't even think about my eyes. "It's nice."

"So are yours," I complimented.

"Are you two ready," the one with short hair asked.

"I, umm, I need my stuff," I pointed behind me.

The man nodded but told Jack to go with me. I dropped Jack's and our eyes went back to normal.

"So... who are the other two," I asked. "I trust you but I'd like to know their names."

"The one with long hair is Sam, the one with short hair is Dean," they replied. I nodded, grabbing my bag and throwing my clothes in. "Have you been all alone for a long time?"

"I... well... I kept hurting people. Living up here kept everyone safe from me."

Jack nodded.

I zipped up my bag and grabbed my backpack, packing my important, smaller things. A laptop that I had invested quite a bit of money into, my toiletries in a little travel bag, a few books, any cords I needed, and- in its own pocket- a photo of the family I had run from so long ago.

I grabbed onto Jack's hand again as we walked out. Just for a moment. I liked the feeling of our powers meeting and seemingly controlling one another. I smiled at them for a moment before letting go of their hand.

We walked into the living room.

Sam and Dean led us out to the car, an old impala that was sitting on the road a little ways away from my home.

"Thank you," I said before we all got in the car. "For all of this."

"We'd rather have you stay with us than out here without any safety from those who may want to hurt you," Sam explained.

"Or me hurting other people," I asked quietly.

Sam shook his head before smiling and getting into the passenger seat. I slid into the backseat with Jack and Dean got into the driver's seat. I leaned on the window.

Here's to control. Here's to help. Here's- hopefully- to family.

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