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strangerthingslover69 · 1 year

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Number 18 ~ part 1 ~

A welcoming chapter to Number 18. Trapped. Alone. Scared. A long time ago you managed to escape Papa and Hawkins but only to be captured by the Russians. You’ve been held prisoner for the last twelve years. Today is the day that changes your life. The day the man finds you. The day you decide to trust. The day you escape

The screams of the monster won’t stop. They’ve left the poor thing open up on the table. You want to help this creature even though they cause many pain. You couldn’t stand to hear its screams. You cover your ears and try to block it out. Slowly rocking back and forth feeling like you are loosing your mind. You close your eyes and hum a song to yourself. One from your childhood. You don’t remember it well but it was one that Papa taught. It helped you calm quickly. You startle as you hear a gunshot. Your heart beating loudly. You slowly take your hands off your ears. The screaming monster had stopped. You hear some talking unsure what is said. It’s voices you’ve never heard or recognise. You shake as you hear footsteps coming closer. You see the door handle move slightly. Locked. It moves again. No luck. Another gunshot. Louder. They have shot the handle. The door slowly opens. You look up and see a figure. Bright lights behind them. You squint. It’s the first time you’ve seen any light today. They make their way over to you. Your freeze unable to move. It’s a man. A new one you’ve not seen ever. At least six foot. Blue outfit with boots. He looks at your on the floor. He sees your chains to the wall. Lowering himself to your level. You see his face. Blue eyes. Small creases through out. Larger nose. Plump lips. Moustache. You do not know this man. ‘Are you okay?’ He asks in English but you notice a thick accent. Russian. You stare at him unable to talk. You do not know what he is going to do. The Russians are never kind to you. Your lip starts to quiver. You remember all the pain the last man caused you. Your eyes begin to water. ‘I will be back’ he says with worry and leaves the room. You close your eyes again humming the song trying to stop your fear. ‘Remember eighteen this is for your own good’ you hear Papas voice suddenly in your head. ‘No no no’ you whisper to yourself.

A hand on your shoulder brings you back into reality. You flinch and try move back but the chains hold you still. ‘Hey, it’s okay sweetie. We’re not going to hurt you.’ You look up to see a woman not the man. She had kind eyes and a warm smile. You look behind her and see more. The man from before now stood with there others. Another man again at least six foot with a shaven head and the same coat as the women in front of you. A man with a beard. The last man with a hat, glasses and his mouth covered. Your heart races as it’s more people you don’t know. ‘My name is Joyce. We are not going to hurt you. What’s your name sweetie?’ She sounds American. Can you trust her? You understand a lot but communication has never been your strong point. Your hands fall into one another, your fingers pulling at one another. ‘Hopper. You best come see this’ Joyce says turning to the man with the shaved head who you now know as ‘Hopper.’ ‘What is it?’ Hopper asks. Another American accent. ‘Look. Just like El’ Joyce points to your wrist. To your number. Your tattoo your papa gave you when you were just a child. He bends down next to Joyce and looks at your wrist. His hand coming to touch it. You flinch away. ‘I’m not going to hurt you.’ He says putting his arms up in a surrendering position. ‘Sweetie. Did Dr Brenner do that to you?’ Joyce asks. Your turn to her with a confused expression. How can she know about Brenner? ‘Papa?’ You whisper to her. Hopper and the Joyce turn to look at one another with a shocked expression. You don’t understand what is going on. ‘How? How do you know?’ You find yourself asking. They sigh slightly. ‘Eleven. Eleven is my family. She’s my daughter.’ Hopper says. Eleven. You haven’t thought about the others for a long time. You remember eleven. She was a nice child. Kind to you when the others were not. You lip forms a small smile. ‘Sister’ you say with tears in your eyes. ‘We can help you. We can get you out of here.’ Joyce says reaching for your hand. You’re reluctant at first but once you look into her eyes you relax. You reach out and hold her hand. It’s warm. It’s soft. You look around at the others in the room. They do no want to hurt you like the others. They want to help you. ‘Yes. Help me’ you say to them all.

This was only the beginning of your escape

#stranger things #dmitri antonov x reader #jim hopper x reader #joyce byers x reader #murray bauman #yuri ismaylov #Slow burner

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mundanekamilia · 2 years

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Mariana Zapata slow burns are so slow they are fast?

Does this make sense even?

Nvm it doesn’t but imma post it anyway

The people who get it, get it

#mariana zapata #mariana zapata books #slow burner #Mariana Zapata author #Kulti #the wall of winnipeg and me #Luna and the lie #from lukov with love #All Rhodes lead here #Lingus #under Locke #books #slow burn

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gottagolisten · 6 months

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Matroda feat Meryll - No Sleep (6AM) (BLINQ Remix)

#slow burner #house #house music #deep house #weekend vibes #edm #edm blog #matroda ft. meryll #no sleep #blinq #q #SoundCloud

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unnieshimkoongkdramas · 1 year

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The Interest of Love - Love a Good Slow Burner

Lead Actors: Yoo Yeon Seok, Moon Ga Young, Geum Sae Rok, Jung Ga Ram JTBC Promotional Poster What’s it all about? A crazy love pentagon told in the form of a slow burning kdrama. There are a bunch of bank employees, some of which went to university together. Ahn Soo Young (Moon Ga Young) is a pretty and quiet bank teller and all of the men in the office seem to be interested in her. Ha Sang…

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#Geum Sae Rok #Jung Ga Ram #KDrama #kdramas #Korean Drama #Love #Love Pentagon #Moon Ga Young #netflix #Office Romance #romance #Slow Burner #Yoo Yeon Suk

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putoutallthestars · 2 years

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Lie Low 🧿

There is no shortcut to happiness: How does one wave goodbye to stress? What’s the highly coveted recipe to worry or think less? When you look into my piercing eyes, Do you notice the weight of grief, shame, disdain? Are they a friendly reminder I was never all that sane?

Beware of the charmers I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Get over yourself, second guessers will never morph into insatiable go-getters We all do stupid stuff when we’re drunk Forgive me for being too blunt There’s no such thing as over confidence. (If only you could appreciate the suspense Of a good slow burner, you’re a born twist and turner.)

Am I too nervously available as I wait for unmade invitations? Perfection is only appealing while it soothes one’s ego. You should learn not to disturb the flow of human flaws Of nature and its rivers, flowers, and godless laws. I’m convinced this is the last of all the straws. I was never foolish enough to thing you’d give me The serenity of closure in an empty, beautifully polished, silver platter I’ll let you destroy (evenly tear) Every single conversation I thought to be rare. It seems I like to run in circles inside your (barely finished) drawing of a square. Beware of the charmers and their strategies for pretending they care. “There’s room to grow, open up to self-improvement” Slow and steady wins the race But it can also kill the thrill of the chase. (Did your tongue dislike my taste?) Or was my body just a convenient (foreign) territory to place the blame?

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brifdi-daily · 29 days

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DAY 1: Tissues & Record !

Source: BURNER [Sacri]

the spinner i put together for these just said to draw record... but... i couldnt separate her from her buddey.... i like these two and their silly outfits so much im gonna be devastated when they inevitably lose a challenge lol

#burner #tissues #record #sacri #contestants #dailies #1 #burner osc #i rewatched ep3 while i drew this theyr so cute #'haha ok bri day one lets not spend much time on thi(SPENDS AN HOUR ON IT FOR NO REASON #why am i so SLOW!!! anyway. hi

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thenotoriousscuttlecliff · 2 years

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Death: Well, I wasn't the one blowing our cover by having a tiff with my boyfriend.

Dream: He's not my boyfriend.

Hob, handing him a pint: Might be a bit warm, the cooler's off.

Dream: Thanks, babe.

#the sandman #dream of the endless #hob gadling #death of the endless #morpheus #dc comics #the sandman spoilers #they go on dates once a century #talk about a slow burner

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thefangirlofhp · 7 months

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3. wearing each other’s clothes

“Are-you-kidding-me?!”

Each syllable was punctuated with a feather-pillow thump of frustration landing right over the sleeping boy buried in the folds of comfortable bedding and the dormitory mattress that Elain has discovered to be disturbingly personalized and ultimate. One of the things she’s trying to make her peace with is the uniqueness of the Ravenclaw Tower, with its frustratingly snobby doorknob and its gorgeous Common Room. Nuala did not think twice about immediately pointing Elain towards the boys dormitory, having long-since given up on the idea of getting said boy up for classes.

“Okay! Okay! Okay! Stop it, I’m up!” Azriel shouts, his hand shooting out to fend off the pillow Elain clutches tightly in her hands. She gives his head another smack for good measure, watches his jet-black hair flop with the assault and stand all over.

“How are you still asleep?!” she shouts back, his dorm room empty but for him as his classmates are already downstairs halfway through their breakfast. “You’ve got a test in fifteen minutes and you were asleep before dinner last night!”

A muffled grunt escapes her friend, who drags his blanket over his head.

“Oh no you don’t!” Elain yanks off the bedding, who has much experience getting stubborn sleep-loving people out of beds (if anyone could get Nesta up in the morning, she was such person) much to his chagrin. “I don’t believe this. Get your arse up this instant, Azriel Shadowsinger!”

He groans, curling into himself and then when it does nothing, he gives a frustrated shout.

“Who made you a clock?” he mutters, sitting up in bed, fixing her with a wild-eyed gaze and a puffy face.

“Merlin but you’re impossible, so you are,” she replies, grasping her hips. “Get moving into that bathroom before I give you a shower right here and now with ice-cold water.”

He blinks impassively at her. “You don’t know how to do that yet.”

Elain grits her teeth, her knuckles whitening over her hips. “Try me and I’ll get really motivated to learn. You’ve got five minutes to get dressed.”

To his credit, he does eventually get to his feet, not before shooting her a scathing glare, and when the bathroom door snaps shut behind him, it takes him all of a minute and a half to come back out with sharp-eyes and drenched black hair plastered to his head, water soaking the collar of his t-shirt.

“I can’t believe you’re that daft,” she remarks, shivering at the mere thought of the ice-cold water on her own head. Azriel shrugs, grabs a towel and rubs his head furiously. She prefers to wake an hour early to beat her dormmates to the hot water, to allow her hair adequate time to dry and her body to wake up of its own accord—shocking it into wakefulness is not something she’s ever considered doing. “I brought you toast.”

“Thanks,” he mutters from the midst of his self-inflicted tornado. “Can you put my stuff in the bag?”

“Sure,” she turns her back while he tugs on dry clothes and his shoddy uniform, crosses over to his sidetable overflowing with books and parchment scrolls that the house-elves of the school have long since learned not to touch—in a way, it is the picture-perfect image of a Ravenclaw student, who are renown amongst the wizarding world for being brainy twits obsessed with books and smartness. After befriending a few Ravenclaws, Elain’s realized that though each individual is a bizarre unique phenomenon, they’re all obsessive idiots hyper-fixated on a matter of their interest and without the common sense to be found in a hen. Still, not people Elain would ever want to be on the bad side of. They’re the sort of people who will go far in life, and it’s nice to have friends in such places.

Where Azriel will end up, though, is a question up for grabs. No-one can fathom if it’s a cold cell in Azkaban or as Minister for Magic; both are entirely probable. Wherever he ends up, Elain is sure it will be something worth witnessing. For now, if he isn’t downstairs in ten minutes, he’s going to end up doing remedial Transfiguration over the winter break and Elain cannot have her personal encyclopedia fall back.

Oh, but the books are a depressing sight to bear, for students meant to be having their noses buried in their textbooks and relevant sources. Elain’s eye twitches as she beholds a worn down hardcover first-edition of Bodies of Water and The Wowza Discoveries That Wizards Uncovered In Their Murky Depths that was likely never scheduled for a re-print. A brief glance at the list of students who’d ever checked the book out of the school library confirms Elain’s hypothesis that no-one would ever read it. Everyone except Azriel who has found it to be a riveting read, it seems. What with the pages full of notes.

She sighs. Stacks the non-textbooks up and puts quills and ink-bottles in his schoolbag, hunts around for his actual school textbooks and oh, of course, finds them discarded under his bed. His Charms book has actual dust on it.

And the fucker somehow was a top-scoring student.

“Look, I know you’re a gifted brilliant genius and all—”

“They mean the same,” he mutters under his breath and she has to count to five before going on.

“—but you really need to start paying attention to your studies,” she buttons the flap on the bag, brushes off a leaf stuck to the material and turns round. “Natural intelligence will get you far in life, but in school it’s not about cleverness. It’s about figuring out the patterns, the high-yield information and being smart enough to know what to memorize for exams. I know you don’t care for them, but they do determine your future, Az.”

His wide hazel eyes blink back owlishly at her, black hair ruffled wild atop his head and his scarred fingers making a sorry knot of his blue and bronze tie. “Yeah,” he replies quickly. “I know.”

“Wowza Discoveries, Az?” she softly recounts. “Really?”

“I’ll have you know it’s a riveting read,” he points firmly at her. “You can’t judge books by their covers—or titles.”

“I just think it says more about the person picking up a book with ‘wowza’ in the title than the actual book itself,” she replies.

“Whatever,” he scoffs, holding out his hand into which she dumps the bag by the strap and he shrugs onto his shoulder. “How’d you get in here anyway?”

“My feet,” she replies smartly, following him out the dormitory.

“Funny,” he snorts. “Got past the doorknob did you?”

“Excuse me, I take offense!” she yelps, crossing the expanse of the Common Room. “People outside your stupid house do have brains, you know?”

He shoots her a sharp meaningful look as he pushes . “I’m just saying, the doorknob’s existential crises lasted for weeks after your little stint about evolution and accusing it of being outdated and irrelevant.”

“I just meant the riddles it asks are stupid,” she mutters. “‘What comes first, the chicken or the egg?’ my arse. The egg actually did. The egg was a bird that evolved into a chicken. And I just as much hate that ‘a circle has no beginning’ line. Stupid doorknob.”

“You nearly made it gain consciousness,” Azriel laughs. “Professor Silver had to reset the charm on the thing which no one ever had to do since the school was made.”

Elain busies herself with brushing her hair behind her ears and adjusting her bag over her shoulder.

“Thanks for waking me up, by the way,” Azriel pipes up as they descend the staircase of the third floor. “I probably would have gotten up in time, but thanks still.”

“You really wouldn’t have,” Elain snipes back.

He grins. “Yeah, I wouldn’t have.”

“Don’t you—don’t you actually care about putting in an effort?” she pries hesitantly, finding their academic gap tricky waters to navigate without sounding like a jealous sourpuss. She does get frustrated by their difference, sure, that the three hours of effort she’d put in studying for a test he needs only quarter an hour of mild reading. Or that while she is pacing the length of the courtyard in breaks trying to get her mind to remember different potions ingredients, Azriel is napping somewhere or practicing Quidditch with his team and still he ends up as one of the top five in their year. Elain is entirely convinced he’d have come out first last year, fourth year, if he hadn’t forgotten about the five whole units they were told to revise in History of Magic and still his freakish memory had saved the day and if word is to be believed then the couple of points he lost were because the arse fell asleep in the exam and missed a word in the question.

But she’s more curious, and infatuated with this secret method of his.

“Sure, I do,” he replies. “I just soak in a lot of information, most of it not academically related, granted. But I can’t help that my attention constantly drifts. I just let my mind take me where it takes me.”

“Fascinating,” she nods, skipping the last two steps and landing with a heavy thud on her soles.

“You mean to tell me you can tell your mind to just focus on something and it does?” he demands. “Merlin’s balls, it’s like wrestling with an angry bull up here,” he taps his temple. “What’d I give to have the mindpower for that.”

“Some people would give their firstborn for your mind,” she reminds him.

“Oh, but how the other half lives.”

“Twat,” she laughs, rounding a corner that brings them to the Great Hall. A violent autumn breeze sharply whips into the corridor through the front doors, one that makes her own bones shiver and forces her to bend her knees to stay in place. Azriel squeezes a stabling hand over her shoulder, squinting his eyes against the beating wind, damp hair whipping back in the current.

“You’re going to die from a cold,” she decrees as the breeze dies down, what with the idiot not wearing neither a sweater nor a scarf.

“‘m fine, come on,” he tugs her towards the grand staircase that would take them to their first class of the day and their aforementioned test. Elain digs her heels into the ground, at which he huffs and stops as well.

“Here,” she unwinds her neatly wrapped scarf from around her neck and slings it around his own considerably longer one. “You can’t be an idiot in Ravenclaw. It doesn’t look good for your house.”

“If I keep it on will you drop it?” He asks from behind the knit yellow and black wool.

“Yes.”

“Fine,” he mutters, tugging it away from his skin but nonetheless slinging the longer tail over his shoulder. “I’ve a test to flunk.”

“Liar,” she chirps back, following him towards the classroom.

And sure enough, the next day when their marked tests were handed back and Elain twisted in her seat upfront to catch Azriel’s eyes from the back of the classroom, he held up an unfolded scroll with an almost annoyed red A+ scribbled in the corner and mouthed I was wrong at her. She rolls her eyes for good measure, but turns back to her own scroll and the exhilarating A marking it.

Sure, cleverness gets one far but so does hardwork and effort.

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mega-aulover · 8 months

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Better Tomorrow

Chapter Eleven

Summary: Katniss has two problems. eta- How does she pay off her debt for the bread? le- How can she get him to stop proposing to her? Solution- offer to marry Peeta to help him and pay him for the debt she owes him while getting Gale off her back. Simple, right? WRONG!

Rated M- Marriage Contract Trigger Warning mentions of violence, violence, Non-Consensual Advances, Aggressive Behavior, Assault

Chapter Summary: Katniss has reported Gale, and now some healing and growth between Katniss and Peeta.

A/N: I revised the chapter to fit within the 30-day timeline, plus added a new scene.

Read Here AO3 & FFN

#Better Tomorrow #this one is a slow burner #really slow #snails #okay so they go at a snails pace #Katniss Everdeen #Peeta Mellark #Mr. Mellark #Gale Hawthorne #Smart Mouthed Prim #Really she's so sassy #There are no games #Well not any more

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