#and then like a month passes and the cycle repeats

[friendly-neighborhood-furry]

decided to do a little "return to form" with some silly pixel art!! :3

i don't remember what possessed me to draw these two specifically hanging out but whatever, it was fun! i had fun!!!

alt version where he's rambling about the weird fucked up polycule situation he put himself in lol

[kugisaaki]

im glad to see that my parents don’t adhere to the stigma surrounding mental health and were the ones that told me that its okay to get help on their own BUT i dont think they know that it doesn’t go away just like that…

[speckeltail]

idk meta about my interps of riddler and aaron and what it means for them and how they treat each other

spinning off in my own little world has yielded what I am absolutely sure to be an only slightly insane interpretation of tb!riddler; this is someone who's been dismissed, belittled, scapegoated, used countless times, whose inflated sense of ego is... yes, an inflated sense of ego, but also a cover for an insanely damaged self-esteem and general inability to connect with other people. he's defensive of his interests because they've always been mocked until they're useful, he's defensive and selfish with his skills because when he works for someone else and does as he's told he's accustomed to taking the fall. he doesn't trust when people are nice to him because he's been primed to see it as an attempt at manipulation... and he worked as an operator for a carnival game in what I see as his late teens + early twenties while he was getting his degree, so he knows full well what it's like to be manipulative. being an operator for a fun little carnival game where the fun of playing is the real prize is different from leading someone on and stealing their work, though. the biggest similarity is that the games are rigged from the start and only an idiot wouldn't see that (he didn't see that, what does that make him).

so it leaves him intensely distrusting, competitive, accustomed to relying on only himself (except for his little nerd armada, god I love the riddlemen they're perfect in every way) and letting himself be the only person to call the shots. at the same time... he is desperately reaching out for connection. he's lonely! he wants to be validated and treated like he has value for being just a person, not for his immense smarts, though he'd appreciate that too.

aaron coming into the picture doesn't necessarily change things so much as it puts a new coat of paint over it, because eddie finds himself in the same position his own father was in (and failed) but also... not at all. not in the slightest. he saw, in aaron, a kindred spirit who was used, who was abandoned, someone who wanted to get back at a system that was rigged from the start. and, I mean, it's not like Batgirl and Robin aren't on the scene. (and prank and scorn, which is its own thing.) the way I see it, eddie didn't intend for aaron to be more comfortable as sphinx. it just... happened. eddie sinks deeply into riddler as a protective layer against the world (prickly intellect and a mean streak that quite frankly dissolves the very second it's not of use?), aaron takes the thing he loved that became a horrible burden and a source of pain and turns it into the weapon he uses to get back at the world as sphinx.

to some degree, eddie is trying to protect and nurture the child in him that loved puzzles and was shot down at every turn. aaron is the opposite; he grew up fast, too fast, was on a global stage at fourteen and acting like an adult (without the adult privilege of making decisions for himself) and being treated like an adult with his area of expertise. eddie trips facefirst into love with someone who is only using him, and pays the price; aaron carefully portrays himself as someone unattainable and undesirable in his relationship with the other villain sidekicks, prank and scorn. (the context for that is sphinx went to them each separately, after their respective disasters, and went; hey. nobody's going to look out for us. people are going to try and use us. people won't take us seriously. we have to look out for each other. and they have a groupchat where aaron talks scorn down from doing dumb violent shit and donnie goes through cycles where he relapses into prank with joker. all very interesting. I should talk about it later. he's very much a mother hen because like eddie, he needs a sense of control and he cares deeply for people).

so... aaron acts like an adult, mainly. eddie helps him make a fake identity and aaron takes over from there. he's trying to be as convenient as possible, and it never comes out but he's afraid that he'll be discarded as soon as he's more trouble than he's worth-- which would distress eddie if he found out. sphinx is useful, and smart, and eager to please, and takes care of himself. sphinx is altogether more comfortable to be than aaron, who is anxious and doesn't know how to ask for help or care and feels ashamed that he wants it. eddie is his superior, not a father figure. neither of them know how to navigate this.

when aaron graduates high school, he goes to college-- this is when he stops being sphinx and starts being tyto, triggered by him investigating the disappearance of a classmate and friend and discovering a seedy underbelly to newark. it's where his and eddie's similarities come to an uncomfortable forefront. aaron, when given the opportunity, is obsessive. he's willing to wait, but only for so long. a few years ago I was pretty adamant about aaron not killing, but over the years I've honestly changed my mind... I think that he doesn't intentionally kill, but it's happened. and with the people he's targeting, he's not especially guilty about it.

anyway, eddie doesn't figure out about tyto for a while, he thinks that aaron's just retired aside from visiting gotham and doing sphinx stuff for him as a favor on long weekends and holidays, and when he does he's surprised at how much he does not like it. he did invite sphinx into the whole business with the promise of getting back at people who hurt them (and the world, in general, and the way things are rigged, and it's fine for them to break the rules because nothing is fair) but that was stealing money. blackmailing people, at most! silly bullshit like jello bombs. people in speeding cars they control so they're not really in any danger. distractions. you know. supervillainy? tyto is not a supervillain. tyto is not even necessarily a vigilante, though that's what he's treated as. tyto is indeed getting back at people with precise and violent intent, much as an unsupervised nineteen year old with extensive training and too much compassion for his own good might.

it's not going to end well! it's a hopeless crusade that leaves power vacuums and is endless work, and what's going to happen when aaron graduates? How the hell can Eddie respond to that? he can't tell aaron to stop because he's not in charge of him anymore. he doesn't disagree with what aaron is doing but it might get him killed, and in fact there is a high chance that it might get him killed.

anyway I think that's what makes eddie realize that he cares for aaron a lot more deeply than he ever expected he does, or should. and once again things are spiraling out of his control and the only thing he can do is watch and hope there's enough pieces left to pick up.

[abyssruler]

TROPES

ft. jing yuan, dan heng, blade x gn!reader

JING YUAN - reincarnation

They say the Arbiter General of the Luofu only takes a lover every few decades, each one doomed to end in the tragedy that befalls that of a love between a short-life species and a long-life one. It’s widely speculated why the famed general chooses to continue taking short-life species for lovers, knowing the ending that would come about such a union. Jing Yuan cares not for idle gossip, save for the fact that people spread misinformation about him taking multiple lovers, but he can hardly tell everyone that he has only had one lover throughout his centuries of life. It’s just that you always happen to die far too soon for his liking. He fears sometimes, during those first few years after your death, that you’ll never come back, that one day he’ll wake up and realize that hundreds of years have passed without you. But you never fail to appear decades later with a smile on your lips and an apology on your tongue, soothing years’ worth of worries with a few measly words. Sorry, Yuan, I’ll be sure to live longer this time.

DAN HENG - soulmates

The Imbibitor Lunae was not only tasked to bear the responsibility of being the High Elder of the Vidyadhara, he was also destined for a love that spanned beyond lifetimes. Dan Heng knows of the story between the previous incarnations of you and the Imbibitor Lunae. Reincarnating at the same time, falling in love, and repeating it all over again in a never ending cycle that Dan Heng had been sure to end—that was, until he met you. Jing Yuan told him of your decision to forcefully reincarnate as well after Dan Feng’s crime, so it stands to reason that you shouldn’t feel anything for Dan Heng at all, what with this incarnation of yours having never met him in this lifetime. And yet, you keep looking at him with such softness, something like nostalgia in the tone of your voice as you spoke with him, that he can’t help but feel as though he, like his previous incarnations before him, can do nothing but fall into that never-ending cycle of love and being loved.

BLADE/YINGXING - time travel

Yingxing thinks you’re strange. Not in a bad way, of course, only that your mannerisms and way of conduct when it comes to him and his companions is odd. He’s caught you almost calling Dan Feng the wrong name, Dan He-something. You keep demanding Jing Yuan to spar with you for what you dubbed was a ‘rematch’, though Yingxing has no recollection of any instances of you and Jing Yuan fighting before. But it all pales in comparison to the way you act with him. You’re overly familiar, smiling and talking to him as though you’ve known him for years instead of a single month after he discovered you wounded on an alley with a broken blade. He still remembers the look of relief on your face when he crouched in front of you in concern. Blade, Kafka’s gonna kill me, this is the fiftieth sword I broke this month, was all you said before passing out. Despite the oddity of your first meeting, he found himself getting close to you, drawn in by your smile and your laugh and the tender way you looked at him. He imagined spending what remained of his life with you, but you disappeared a day before he was supposed to confess his feelings. It isn’t until many years later, when Elio is introducing the newest member of the Stellaron Hunters, that Blade connects the dots amidst his fractured memory. And it isn’t until another few years that you confirm his suspicions. Blade, you won’t believe what I just went through—or rather, when!

[roseychains]

Jjk men/boys as red flags ~

A/n: felt like angst

C/w: angst, all sfw.

Gojo: narcissistic 

When you and Gojo were only friends it was fine, it was always just a joke. Even when it would irritate you, you were only friends, so it didn’t mean much. But after you started dating, you realized it wasn’t just a joke. Gojo held himself above everyone, yourself included. That’s not to say he wouldn’t die for you, but instead he just thinks he’s better than everyone else. Including you. He treats you well, but it’s always back handed complements. “You couldn’t do it without me,” or “you need me,” and this time, he meant it.

Geto: avoidant

Geto has never been open with how he’s feeling. When he gets upset with you, rather than explain to you why he’s upset he would avoid you like the plague. Make up any excuse in the book to get away from you, he was suddenly always “busy.” Even once he worked him self back down to normal, it still wouldn’t be resolved in his brain. Ultimately leading to him accumulating sad thoughts that he refuses to share with you or anyone else.

Nanami: priority’s

As much as he loved you, his work always gets in the way between you too. It started with a few days spent overtime, but days turned into weeks, weeks to months, and you realized you were hardly spending time with him anymore. He would work himself day and night, even when you pleaded with him to come home to you. Your pleas fell on deaf ears, he would always tell you the same thing. That he can’t support you without this job, and it was what must be done. Even at the expense of his time with you.

Toji: irresponsible

After his wife passing, he seems to care less and less about anything else in the world. After you began dating, you realized he would do small things, innocent mistakes. Not cleaning up for himself, not switching the laundry, but when you would address the issues, he would suddenly get defensive. First, he’d tell you it wasn’t true. Then, it was an accident, and finally, if you care so much why don’t you do it. Never just “sorry, I’ll handle it.”

Sukuna: aggressive

The first time your forgave him. But when it became a repetitive issue, it started getting under your skin. The smallest things would send him into a rage, a rage that he would take out on you, raising his voice, burdening you with his anger. After he calmed down and apologized, and promised to not do that again or at the very least work on it, progress never came. Trapped in a cycle of yell, apologize, promise, repeat.

Choso: affection

Choso is inexperienced and scared. He’s scared of touch, of intimacy, he wants to love you from afar. He can talk to you for hours, and listen to you talk, but he won’t hold your hand, especially in public. It’s almost like he’s ashamed, embarrassed to be with you. But no matter how much you bring it up, he’d reassure you and say he’s just shy. But never a way to satisfy your need for physical love.

Yuji: ignorant

He doesn’t realize what he’s doing wrong, so when your mad at him he doesn’t know why. He thought he was doing everything right, and even when you tell him, he can’t wrap his head around why that would upset you, he doesn’t get it. He never has, and he never will. He ends up love bombing you and you forgive him, but do you really? No, you let it happen because what else are you supposed to do.

Megumi: self-destructive

Megumi cares about anyone else more than himself, and he refuses to take care of himself properly and repeatedly puts himself into dangerous situations. It doesn’t matter how much you cry, how you sob and hold him in your arms telling him you didn’t think he was ever coming back, begging him to stay, if not for his safety than for you. But he won’t. He never listens, no amount of tears and begging will ever change his ways.

Inumaki: effort

A relationship should be 50/50, but when someone can’t give that, the other person would make up for it. But when 40/60 becomes the new normal, than 30/70, and so on, a lack of effort on his part is a regular occurrence, it starts feeling like why do you even try. Your putting in more than you can just for him to not make it up in return. It’s almost like he doesn’t care anymore

Yuta: obsessive

It was cute first, the way he would get jealous whenever you spent time with someone else. It was a joke right? You started questioning the lightheartedness of his actions when it became frequent and almost forceful. He would resent anyone who you spent time with, he felt like you were being stolen away. So much so the point it became toxic. He would guilt trip you to stay home more frequently. And when you finally decided you were going to leave anyway, the keys to your car had mysteriously disappeared. On no, guess you have to spend the day with him, again, forever.

[crrepiest]

Yandere! Teacher

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

♡Yan! Teacher x GN reader♡

Pt. 1

Tw: age-gap, obsessive behavior, pronouns used: you

Yandere! Teacher who stumbled his way into his classroom on the first day of school. With his shirt half buttoned and his hair barely groomed, he was not prepared in any capacity.

Yandere! Teacher who slept in this morning, hitting the snooze button more than once. letting today's big events merely slip his mind. Not even giving his career a full thought in 3 months.

Yandere! Teacher who is less than thrilled to start the cycle back up again. However, those brats he calls his students, unfortunately pay the bills.

Yandere! Teacher who now sits in his empty classroom, waiting for his new set of "eager" young minds for the year to funnel in.

Yandere! Teacher whose heart starts rapidly pounding when he sees you - whose cheeks start to burn the moment he spots your gleaming face standing in the threshold of his bleak classroom.

Yandere! Teacher who stares you down like a hawk -a predator- as you nervously choose a place to set your belongings.

Yandere! Teacher who notices you chose a seat relatively close to him. Bold. Responsible. Trying to make a good impression are we? Was this just a routine for all of your new classes, or were you trying to catch his attention specifically? In hopes it's the latter.

Yandere! Teacher who just became acutely aware of his appearance. If only he'd knew he'd meet you today, he would have put more thought and effort into his looks.

Yandere! Teacher Who has a new found motivation to come to school each day. To be prepared and look his best. All for you.

Yandere! Teacher who introduces himself to the class. Whose eyes linger on yours any chance he can get, watching as you nervously fidget with your pencil and swiftly look away each time.

“Adorable" he thinks to himself.

Yandere! Teacher who passes out a pre printed syllabus to each student.

Yandere! Teacher who makes sure that his hand grazes yours while doing so. The afflicted spot occupies his mind with a tingling sensation for the rest of class.

Yandere! Teacher who gets visibly disappointed when he hears the loud chime of the dismissal bell for lunch sounds off.

Yandere! Teacher who sits back down at his desk, watching as the students seemingly evacuate the room. You however, lingering just a while longer, gathering your belongings.

Yandere! Teacher who takes this as a sign that you want to be in his presence a little while longer.

Yandere! Teacher who decides to take this fleeting moment to ask you your name.

"Y/n". It pours out of your mouth as smooth as honey. The word reverberating in his mind repeatedly.

"Y/n" he repeats aloud, just above a whisper.

You throw your bag on your back and give him a gentle wave goodbye. "Bye Mr. Roth, see you tomorrow." You chimed

Yandere! Teacher whose heart beat starts to slow down slightly as he watches you leave his field of few.

Yandere! Teacher who sits alone now, empty seats surrounding him.

"Y/n..."

[zepskies]

Hey! I was wondering if the requests are still open? I’m so obsessed with BMD💗✨ I was wonder how Ben would react to his gf having cramps during her moon cycle✨

Tysm for sharing these awesome stories with us hun🫂💗✨Hope you’re healthy and happy💃🏻❤️

Hey there!

I'm so glad you love BMD. 🥰 I’m slowly but surely working through my inbox of requests! And because I’m currently on my “moon cycle” as I’m writing this [last week. I was suffering for four days], I just had to do this prompt. So thank you for it, lovely!

And you're so very welcome. It's my pleasure. I hope you're healthy and happy as well!! ❤️❤️

AN: This one is set in the Break Me Down-verse, but can be read as a stand-alone. Considering where we're going next in "Strong as Blood," I thought it'd be good to release this first lol.

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

Word Count: 2,700 Tags/Warnings: Period talk, of course. Hurt/comfort, fluff, grumpy Ben.

Imagine: How Ben reacts to his girlfriend having cramps during her period.

You really were going to die this time.

The thought was both a conviction and a deranged mantra as you stood hunched over the bathroom sink. Nausea and pain warred for dominance as you pressed a clammy hand over your forehead.

Jesus Christ, end me please. I beg of you.

Meanwhile, your boyfriend was in the bedroom getting ready for work. Both you and Ben worked at Supe Affairs now, with Butcher and the rest of the team.

You were one of the top agents in the Surveillance department, while Ben was considered a “contractor,” catching rogue supes and dealing with the remnants of Vought.

He was just about to undress from his shirt and sweatpants and start getting his supe suit on, when he heard the toilet flush in the bathroom…for the third time now. He realized then just how long you’d been in there.

He went over and knocked on the closed door.

“Hey, you planning on going to work today?” he said, with a teasing note to his voice. “Or making breakfast, for that matter?”

“Not now, Ben,” you replied, barely stifling a groan.

A frown tugged at his lips. “What’s wrong?”

“Debating if I’m gonna start my day by throwing up last night’s pot roast,” you replied sourly.

Ben’s brows crunched when he heard the strain in your voice. But at the same time, he couldn’t help smiling.

“What, are you pregnant?” he asked.

He heard your dry huff from the other side of the bathroom door.

“Most definitely not,” you said. “But at this point, I’d much rather be knocked up.”

Ben didn’t like the sound of that. He twisted the doorknob and let himself in, just to see his girlfriend locked up with pain. He read the misery written across your face. You were still in your pajamas (one of his old shirts that hung almost to your knees).

“Tell me what’s wrong,” he repeated gruffly. He rested a heavy hand on your back, between your shoulders. You let out a breath.

“Move that hand lower?” you requested. “My period came early this month. Hit me out of nowhere with a vengeance.”

His brows crunched a bit, but he obliged you, moving to your lower back. His hand was warm, as usual, and the weight of it was a small relief as he rubbed back and forth into your aching muscles.

You let out a deep breath and briefly closed your eyes. Finally, the nausea was starting to pass. And if you dawdled any longer, you were going to be late for work.

“Okay,” you breathed. “I need to get ready.”

You tried to straighten up, even though what felt like your entire lower body protested.

“You can barely move,” Ben said. “How’re you gonna work like that?”

“The way all women have managed to do for centuries,” you tartly pointed out. “With a buttload of painkillers and a heating pad under my desk…speaking of, where is that thing?”

You moved past him to look for said object. You knew you put it somewhere…

Ah! You found it in the top drawer of your nightstand. You plugged it in just to make sure it was working, but to your frowning suspicion, it didn’t turn on.

“Oh, you gotta be fucking kidding me,” you said. You pressed the “on” button several times, but it didn’t light up. You touched the fluffy heating pad on both sides, but it was still cold. “Damn it. Don’t tell me this thing’s broken!”

You were about ready to tear the thing apart with your bare hands, when a sudden cramp spasmed in your lower belly. You inhaled sharply and held a hand there with a wince. Your back bent forward on reflex, and you grabbed onto the nightstand to steady yourself.

“All right,” Ben said. He took the defunct heating pad out of your hand and guided you to sit down on the edge of the bed. He went over to his side to grab his cell phone where it sat on his nightstand.

When you twisted to see what he was up to, you raised a suspicious brow. “What are you doing?”

“You’re not going to work,” he said. His tone was matter of fact, and your brows rose even higher.

“What? Ben—”

He ignored you when whoever he was calling finally answered the phone.

“Yes?” came Grace Mallory’s steady, but slightly incredulous voice. Ben never called her, nor did he want to. But he didn’t have your manager’s number and didn’t feel like scrolling through your phone to find it.

“She’s not coming in today,” Ben said, without preamble.

"Ben," you tried. Again, he ignored you.

In his ear, Grace spoke your name, both a question and a clarification.

“Yeah, she’s sick. Get someone else to fill in,” he said.

Grace sighed. “…All right, but just so you know—”  

Ben hung up the phone before she could finish. He then tossed it onto the bed. You shot him a wry, questioning look.

“What did she say?” you asked.

“It’s fine. You’ve got the day off,” he said. “Just relax.”

You sighed. Going above your manager to call Grace wasn’t the protocol for taking PTO in the slightest, but you couldn’t help but smile.

You beckoned him over with a hand. "Come 'ere."

A smirk tugging at his lips, Ben came back around to your side of the bed. You pulled him down by his shirt until he sat next to you, and you wrapped your arms around his neck in a hug. Maybe it was a small thing, but sometimes your boyfriend surprised you with the ways he showed that he cared.

“Thanks, baby,” you said softly. You carded your fingers through his hair, rested them at the back of his neck.

“Mhmm,” Ben nodded, rubbing your back again. “I gotta get going.”

“If you must,” you sighed. You pulled away enough to see his face, and something occurred to you. “Oh, can you get me some more feminine pads on the way home? And some Midol, and a new heating pad?”

Ben raised a brow at you. This was where he drew the line. He wasn’t about to be caught dead browsing through pads and tampons in some pharmacy aisle. God for-fucking-bid, some kid would be there with a camera phone. He’d learned about the internet, and it was worse than the tabloids used to be.

But you read the pullback in his face. You implored him with your eyes, and your gentle fingers in his hair.

“Please?” you asked. “I’d do it for you.”

Ben’s frown deepened.

“I’m not the one with the…” He gestured at you vaguely. “Monthly problem.”

You grinned a little. The way he reluctantly phrased it amused you. Despite his deplorable sense of humor, and often vulgar language, not to mention his blatant love of pussy, you supposed his fragile male disposition wouldn’t allow him to say the words.

Period.

Menstrual cycle.

Bleeding from the vagina.

“Exactly,” you countered, and you leaned up to once again snuggle your face into his neck. “Please, baby. You don’t know how much it hurts right now. You really want me to go to the store like this?”

Ben held you back with a terse sigh. You were somehow ready to go to work a minute ago, yet you couldn’t drive around the corner to the drug store?

“Fine,” he groused. His voice was nearly a growl, but you still smiled behind his back. You laid small, sweet kisses into his neck. When you leaned back, you pressed a lingering kiss to his lips.

“Thank you,” you said between kisses. Ben just shook his head when you were done bribing him with affection.

“Yeah,” he dully replied. The things I fucking do for you, said his tone.

He finally withdrew from you to continue getting dressed, leaving you to crawl back under the covers and try to find a comfortable angle to lay down. You used all the pillows on the bed, even dragging his toward you. That one you rested your head on, as it still smelled like him.

Ben watched you settle in out of the corner of his eye, like a cat curling up in her bed. A smile tugged at his lips when you sighed in relief and turned on the TV.

He didn’t see so much pain in your features anymore. You seemed in a better mood, relaxed as you held his pillow like an anchor.

So that’s how he left you. However, it wasn’t until he got to the Supe Affairs building that he saw your text pop up on his phone:

Here’s a picture of the pads I like. If you don’t see them, call me and I’ll help you. And don’t forget the heating pad! 😘

He rolled his eyes in annoyance.

By the time he got home that evening with takeout and a plastic bag (filled with the things you'd asked for), he spotted an empty cup of yogurt in the kitchen.

It meant you’d gotten out of bed at some point, at least. He set down the takeout bags on the kitchen counter and made his way up the stairs.

He found you in the same place he left you: in bed, in your pajamas. And you were crying while watching a movie.

Ben frowned. He stood in the doorway in his supe suit with the pharmacy bag.

“What’s the matter?” he asked. You looked up and finally noticed him.

“Oh, hey.” You paused the movie. “I’m okay. It’s just…Marley & Me.”

“What?”

“It’s this true story about a dog…just, don’t ask. It’s ridiculously sad,” you sniffed and wiped your eyes.

He raised a brow at you.

“Sure it’s not just your uh…situation, making you all weepy?” he asked.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You did not just say that.”

Was he really calling you hormonal right now?  

His lips pursed, but he held up the bag.

“Before you start blowing your top, I got your female shit.” He ventured into the bedroom and laid the bag in your lap.

Giving him some annoyed side-eye, you peered into the bag. You nodded in approval at the correct brand and size of the pads you wanted, and a new pack of Midol. You then had to smile, as he even got you a couple of Twix bars. Your favorite chocolate covered candy.

“Admit it, I did good,” Ben said with a smirk. Your side-eye was begrudgingly amused this time.

“Color me surprised,” you replied, but you still treated him with a genuine smile. “Thanks, baby. This is perfect…”

Though you realized something was missing. Ben’s smirk started to fade as he caught on.

“Wait.” You sorted through the bag. “Where’s the heating pad?”

Fuck, Ben thought. He forgot.

His expression slackened, making you sigh in disappointment.

“Okay, it’s fine,” you said, ripping open the box of Midol. This would have to be enough to relieve your pain (but it never was). Even now, your cramps were starting back up again.

Ben nodded in response. You were no longer looking at him though.

He let out a sigh. Didn’t he get credit for fucking trying here?

Without another word, he started unzipping his supe suit and disappeared into the bathroom for a shower.

By the time he returned, you were nearly in full fetal position. The Midol had only put a dent in your pain. The First Wives Club movie from the '90s was playing on the TV, but not even that could make you laugh, let alone relax right now.

You were truly miserable, and Ben saw it as he got dressed in a clean pair of sweatpants and a shirt.

“Hey, you hungry?” he asked. He wasn’t sure about the last time you’d eaten anything.

You paused the movie and moved your head enough to meet his eyes.

“Not really,” you admitted. “You go ahead and eat.”

Oh, he was starving. After the day he’d had, rounding up another telekinetic that tried to trash Midtown to evade capture, Ben could go for about five burgers. But there was a part of him that…didn’t feel right, leaving you like this.

Still, he needed to eat. He went downstairs and grabbed his meatball sub out of the takeout bag. He also took your sandwich along too, just in case the sight of food managed to make you hungry. He brought it all upstairs and sat next to you in bed. Though he was also kind of behind you, the way you were curled up.

You'd felt when his body dipped on his side of the bed. His presence both soothed and annoyed you. The former, because you did love your man. The latter, because he forgot the most important thing you'd reminded him not to forget.

You reached back blindly, eventually finding his hand that wasn't occupied with holding his sandwich. You placed that hand on your lower back.

"Massage, please," you grunted into your pillow. (Well, his pillow, but semantics.)

He sighed through his nose and a mouthful of meatball.

"I'm eating," he replied.

"What, you can't multitask?" you quipped.

Ben's gaze hardened with annoyance at the back of your head.

Still, he found himself reaching over and rubbing across your lower back. He applied gentle, but firm pressure with the heel of his hand. You sighed in appreciation.

“Thanks,” you murmured. Ben nodded and continued to polish off his sub while watching the movie. He usually wasn’t into chick flicks, but Bette Midler was hilarious, and Goldie Hawn was hot as fuck.

“I got you turkey and provolone,” he said. You nodded.

“Thanks. I’m still not hungry though.”

“Are you nauseous?”

“No…just in pain.”

Ben frowned…until he got an idea. He crumpled up his trash and tossed it onto the nightstand for now, along with brushing off the crumbs from his chest. He grabbed a couple of your pillows and propped them up behind him, against the headboard.

You shot him an annoyed look. “Hey!”

“You’re like a little dragon with her hoard a’ gold,” he remarked, smirking. Before you could start getting all huffy, he reached for your arm. “Come ‘ere.”

“What?”

“For once, just do what I'm telling you," he said. His lips twitched at your narrowing eyes. "I’ve got an idea."

With a loud sigh, you reluctantly (and slowly) uncurled and turned towards him. Ben laid back against the headboard, and he guided you to lay on top of him. You often complained that his skin was too hot at night for summer. Sometimes you woke up sweating.

It was a result of the power that emanated from his chest. Ben couldn’t exactly control the heat; at least, not when he was sleeping. But he was sure you were going to appreciate it more when winter came.

Not to mention, right now.

He positioned you just right, with your knee curling around his hip and your head resting against his chest. His large hand once again soothed against your lower back, underneath your shirt, and his fingers massaged into your skin.

You smiled as you realized what he was doing. You felt the warmth emanating from his body as it seeped into yours. Along with his calming touch, it slowly managed to relieve your pain.

After a few minutes, you let out a deep sigh and pressed a soft kiss to his chest, before you went back to resting on him fully. You couldn’t see it, but Ben smiled.

“Better?” he asked.

You closed your eyes with a soft smile. “Yeah. My new heating pad’s working wonders.”

Ben huffed a bit at that.

Just then, your stomach growled fiercely. Your eyes popped open.

You met your boyfriend's wry look, biting your lip. He smirked and reached down into the bag that still laid beside the bed. He retrieved your foil-wrapped sandwich and handed to you. You took it and happily began breaking through the foil.

Ben looked down at you, both fond and resigned. You clearly had no intention of getting off him. Which meant you were about to try and use him like some kind of makeshift man table.

You eventually took a bite of your sandwich, your eyes lighting up as you hummed in appreciation. You glanced up at his raised brow with a happy little smile.

“So good!” you said, still with your mouth full.

Ben restrained the urge to roll his eyes. Instead, he thumbed at a bit of crumb on the corner of your mouth.

“Just don’t get mustard on my shirt,” he said.

AN: Lol I hope you liked this! I had fun with it, even though I don't have a body heater for my cramps. 😭

(It's fine. I bought a new heating pad online. ❤️‍🔥)

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

SB Tag List:

@melancholictearz @katherineann83 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman

@iprobablyshipit91 @agalliasi @venicesem @deans-spinster-witch @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @mimaria420 @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @skyesthebomb @this-is-me19 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore

@agothwithheavysetmakeup @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @emily-winchester @tearsfortheyouth @solo-pitstop-vibes @dope-trope-105 @liuope @beautyvaliant @xxlaynaxx @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @tmb510 @iamsapphine @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @syrma-sensei @roseblue373 @lacilou

[thegainingdesk]

Momentum

It was hard at first. John thought he knew exactly what to do - he'd read enough gainer stories, followed enough fat guys on twitter for years. All it would take was the decision to dive headfirst into gaining and he'd be as big as any of them in no time at all.

Once a day, every day, he'd eat something that would add at least a thousand calories to his diet. He'd barely even notice. A tub of ice cream, a pot of double cream, a whole cake, a second dinner - all very doable, all easily passing that thousand calorie threshold. Once that got easy, he'd start upping his intake - supplementing it with gainer shakes, or trips to fast food restaurants between meals.

It turns out that your average 12 stone man isn't really built to suddenly, rapidly increase the amount of calories he's taking in. Especially when most of those excess calories were dairy. He spent most evenings clutching his flat stomach as it churned with acid. Each evening he'd vomit it all back up, or have to miss meals, or feel nauseous the next day - constant signals from his body to stop.

He actually lost six pounds that first month. Maybe gaining wasn't meant for him. He watched enviously as his mates the same age succumbed to middle aged spread as they hit their mid-thirties, lamenting how lucky he was to still have his twenty year old metabolism as they patted beer bellies they couldn't shift.

John went back to his old diet, gained back those lost six pounds, and accepted he was just always going to be the skinny one in the group. He kept up a few old habits of course - still bought some of the ice cream flavours he'd discovered for the occasionally treat, kept up cooking with butter and cream where he'd found out how much they improved certain recipes, always made sure there were a few beers in the fridge for those nights when he fancied it. Nothing mad though, nothing that would cause any weight gain, just a few treats. You've got to enjoy life, haven't you?

John looked in amazement at the scales. A stone. An actual, whole stone. 14 pounds. On his body! He started noticing things - the tiniest pinch when he buttoned up his jeans, the slightest blur of softness on his stomach. It was nothing really, nothing anyone would notice, but it was there - solid proof that he could gain weight. He'd just pushed himself too far before, he realised with a laugh. Slow and steady and all that.

All those little habits became regular. Dessert every other night, then every night. Cooking with butter and cream no matter the recipe. A couple of six packs of beer a week. Nothing too intense, not that many calories, but it all started adding up, bit by bit.

Fancy coming for an Indian? the text read.

John's fingers hovered. The answer was obvious - thanks, I've just eaten, I'll join you at the pub after if you're going. But… his fingers traced that new curve of his gut, inching slowly bigger by the month. Not enough to be visible in most clothes really, not enough to be called fat, but there, sure enough. Was he really full? He could eat, couldn't he? What's a curry and a couple of naans?

You off to the Raj? he texted back. What time?

That old familiar feeling, of a stomach overly stuffed, too much food and beer. But different this time. The pain was there. The pressure. But there was a certain enjoyment to it. A pleasure. Warm, rather than acidic; heavy, rather than sharp. And god but didn't his gut look round? He stood in profile in the mirror, holding it almost like a pregnancy announcement. How long until it was always this size, he wondered? How long until it was bigger?

A second dinner became a weekly occurrence, then spread to two times a week, three times, four. After all, he'd proven to himself he had the capacity - why not? Eventually if he hadn't had four meals a day topped off with ice cream he'd be ravenous, his stomach biting at him in retaliation for his neglect.

He crossed 200 pounds. 210. 220. Clothes were bought, grown into, outgrown, and the cycle repeated. The general increase in size that had come before gave way to true signs of fatness. Soft pockets of fat at his chest, his arse rounding out, chubby cheeks, a real, honest to god, gut. It was happening. It was really fucking happening.

His mate Sam, the largest of the group, reached over and slapped John's baby gut after he took his coat off one night at the pub. "Fucking hell mate!" he said. "Never thought I'd see you with one of these!" There were some jeers, some belly pats, some comments - "At least you're not making us look bad anymore." "Welcome to the club, mate."

John looked around as he downed half of his first pint. How much more weight until he was the biggest there? None of them were that big, really, even Sam. Just a load of ex-rugby players with some overdeveloped beer guts. Another 30 or 40 pounds maybe? 18 stone? It sounded good, didn't it? And it would take, what? Six months at his current rate? A nice place to stop for a bit, enjoy his weight and new status as the big guy of the group.

He downed the rest of his drink and went to the bar for his next. "What we eating tonight then lads?" he asked them all, thinking back to the burger and chips he'd had just before coming.

It was all a lot easier with a definite goal in mind, he thought to himself a few weeks later, as he finished a tub of ice cream and placed it down next to four empty beer bottles. The sizes of snacks crept up, until they were meals in and of themselves, and he'd find himself convincing himself he was hungry almost as soon as he'd finished eating. He started stashing snacks everywhere that he couldn't reasonably expect a meal - the passenger seat of his car became reserved for a small mound of chocolate bars, the bottom drawer of his desk at work was filled with crisps and cereal bars.

His mates fell silent as he walked up to them a few months later, the next time he saw them, and he grinned smugly as he saw that, yes, he'd definitely become the fattest there. A couple of them even looked like they'd lost weight, the stupid pricks - didn't they know how good this felt? He put his pint and packet of pork scratchings down, and maneuvered himself down into his seat.

"Jesus Christ John," Sam said softly. "Are you… I mean… Is everything okay?"

John slapped the top of his gut and beamed. "Just enjoying life mate!" he replied, laughing. He tried to listen in as the others murmured around him, doing their best to not be too obvious.

"He wasn't that big last time, was he?" "Definitely not, he was smaller than me." "What's it been, four months? Three?" "He's not ill, do you reckon?" "Must be four stone, at least?"

Okay, so he knew he'd overshot his target and weighed in at 20 stone and change that morning, and yes, how fast it had piled on had shocked even himself, but really, it was all so hot, he was hardly about to complain. In fact, he'd made the decision that 285 felt a little small, really. Why not push for 300, when he was already so close anyway? Then he'd be satisfied, he knew.

"Mate," Sam whispered to him quietly, leaning in. "You've got a little uhh…" He gestured to his face. John took a finger and wiped the corner of his mouth.

"Cheers mate," John said, licking his finger. "Just a bit of cream." He spent the night making jokes about how fat he was getting, and eventually everyone else relaxed a little, content that he at least seemed happy with his shocking weight gain. Underneath his gut, his cock was rock hard.

300 pounds, it turned out, also felt a little small. Or at least, that's what John told himself a couple of months later as he saw 316 flashing on the scales. Maybe just a little bit more - a few more pounds and then he'd stop, once and for all.

But god, did it feel hot. Eating became its own erotic experience. It wasn't merely that he couldn't cum anymore without being completely, painfully stuffed (that point had long since come and gone), he now wondered why he would want to at all. Hook-ups became as much about being fed as they were about the sex. He didn't care who they were - if they had food and were willing to feed him, he'd take them.

John's body became unrecognisable. He was far beyond mere beer belly or dad bod now, his gut was now a globe that spanned out in every direction, wrapping around into thick cushions at his back, draped in inches of fat on top of the firm ball, before cascading off, a surprisingly cold apron of flesh that was slowly threatening to cover his ever shrinking cock. His tits sagged to the side and joined up to his back fat nestled in his armpit. His face, long-since fully rounded, began to elongate, his cheeks and chins sagging into new shapes.

John panted a little as he stood naked in his bathroom, doing his best to push his gut in with one hand as he peered over the top of it to see the scale read 363. "Right," he told the walls of the bathroom. "That's it, I'm stopping there." He struggled to lean down to pick the scales up, sliding them away to the side of the cabinet before straining to stand. "I only bloody wanted to be bigger than Sam."

Food, however, still tasted as good as it had before. And every meal he tried to scale back, every snack he tried to forgo, left him ravenous - each day he'd just end up gorging on more food than he tried to cut back on.

370. 380. 390.

His body began to feel alien. Every joint began to feel crowded, flesh filling the space before he could fully bend his elbow or knee. His arms sat awkwardly by his sides, pushed out by sloping tits. Manspreading became the default, as his thighs met all the way down to his knees which themselves began to inflate out, pillowy and soft.

400. 410. 420.

The gym, he decided. If dieting was out of the question (and there was no doubt at this point that dieting was very much out of the question), he could always exercise. He drove to a nearby gym, asked about personal trainers. Put down more money than one of his mortgage payments for their premium membership for a year, as much to force himself to commit as for the actual services.

His feet ached. His knees grinded. His lungs burned. Sweat poured off of him in quantities that he didn't know people could sweat - and he considered himself to be quite the expert on sweating these days.

Fuck it, he thought to himself after the first session, his circus tent of a t-shirt practically see-through, clinging to every roll of his body, showing off each crevice and valley. It wasn't that much money, really. He could afford to wave goodbye to it, if it meant never having to do that again. What did he have such a good salary for, if not to waste it on shit he'd never use? He'd have only spent it on food anyway.

430. 440. 450.

"My weight's plateaued recently, actually," he told Sam proudly over a pint.

Sam gave an encouraging smile. "That's great mate," he said, in the same tone he'd speak to a child or elderly relative. "Really great."

"Yeah," John said, opening one of the bags of nuts on the table in front of them. "I only put on like five pounds last month."

"Fuck," Sam said quietly, his face draining of colour. "Five pounds last- John, mate, that's still over a pound a week. What are you… how quickly were you packing it on before?"

John shrugged, and pointed to the rugby match on the TV in the corner of the pub, trying to change the topic. At least Sam had put on some weight himself recently - it blunted to criticism just a little.

"I'm over twenty stone now," Sam confessed later, his breath reeking of beer as he leant in close. "I don't know how I'm going to stop," he continued, his words slurring. He leant back and pulled his t-shirt up to reveal his hairy gut beginning to fill his lap and he slapped it. "Look at this thing!" he said loudly enough that people at other tables looked over and laughed. He began to rub it in slow, wide circles, and John could see the outline of his dick growing down the inside of his trousers. He leant back in, lowered his voice once more. "It's kind of fucking hot, isn't it?" he asked, punctuating with a burp. "That's why you've gotten so fat, right? You find it hot too?"

Forty five minutes later, Sam clumsily lined up his cock with one of the folds on John's gut, and slid it inside, grunting as he did so. Both of them held a kebab in one hand, and ate them as Sam's gut and John's whole body shook and quivered with Sam's thrusts, bits of meat and salad and sauce falling down onto their bodies.

"I can't stop," Sam moaned, as his thrusts became more erratic. "I keep on trying to lose weight but I just gain more and more." He spasmed and yelled out, one hand shoving the last of the kebab into his mouth, the other gripping one of his love handles hard, his fingers sinking in to the growing ball of fat.

"That's the thing about momentum," John said as he licked the last of the sauce off his fingers. "Once you get started, it just gets harder and harder to stop."

Sam slid off of John's body and John looked down at himself, surveying his acres of flesh. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to put on just a little more weight, he thought to himself. After all, Sam needed someone to set a good example.

[thelov3lybookworm]

Hi! I really like your writing style, and

I would like to request an Azriel x reader fic, but you can ignore this if you don't feel comfortable with it. So, lately I've been having a few problems with an ED (anorexia nervosa), and I think that reading how Azriel would react and deal with reader struggling with it, would help me and comfort me in some way.

I repeat, if you don't feel comfortable with writing this, it's completely okay, you don't have to do it. Whatever your choice will be, thank you in advance! ❤

With her.

Summary: Azriel finds out his mate's relationship with food, and tries to convince her to see Madja.

•○●⛦●○•

A/n: hello anon! Thank you for the ask, I love the idea. Also, I'm soo sorry you have to go through that and I hope you get better 🫶☺️ also any and all information I have was provided by Google, so please feel free to correct me if I write something wrong.

Hope you like it and hope it helps you in any way ❣️

•○🌑○•

Her chest heaved, her throat scratched as she hovered over the bowl, having just hurled her guts up. She slumped back against the wall, clutching her head.

Y/n stayed there for a couple of minutes before standing and turning to the mirror. She stared, then washed her face.

Before she left, though, she checked once to make sure the shield she had put up around the bathing room was up, because her newly found mate was in the house. She didn't want him to hear her.

And then all the blood drained from her face as she realised that she, while puking, had unintentionally left the shield down.

Her heart started beating wildly.

She was sure Azriel had heard her. There was no way he hadn't.

Even though the two of them had worked for Rhysand for centuries, they had barely had any interactions. And so, after they found out a month ago that they were mates, they were trying to get to know each other more. They'd been having dinner, and then she had excused herself, saying she needed to use the restroom.

She hesitantly stepped into her room, relieved but confused to find it empty. She had thought Azriel would be waiting in here to interrogate her. Did he not hear? Maybe she let the shield down after she was finished?

She decided to go down to the living room where Azriel was sitting before she left him there.

She found him staring into the fire, his jaw clenched.

"Hey, I'm back."

He turned to her and gave her a small smile. They then sat talking for some time, and with every moment that passed, the tension slowly bled from her shoulders. Maybe he hadn't heard anything, and she was worrying for no reason.

They talked carelessly, though Az continuously studied her.

"Are you in pain?" He asked, gesturing to her stomach.

She hadn't even realised she had wrapped her arms around herself until he pointed it out. But she was, in fact, in pain. She didn't think there was any harm in telling him about her abdominal pain, so she nodded.

"Nothing much though. It will subside."

"Are you nearing your cycle?"

She nearly laughed. "No. I haven't had my cycle in quite some time now."

"Why?" He asked, his stare intense.

She faltered. "Why what?"

"Why haven't you had your cycle?"

"Because..." That was when she realised that she was in deep shit. The male she was now taking to wasn't her mate. No, it was the Spymaster of the Night Court, and she was going to be interrogated.

"I always wondered why you made such elaborate meals for others but never ate them yourself. How you, somehow, never seem to be hungry. The unusual visits to the bathing room after eating."

"Azriel–"

"Are you having problems love?" He stood, coming towards her and crouching in front of her. His hands landed on her knees as he searched her face.

"You know that you can tell me anything, right?"

She nodded, blinking back tears.

"Then please tell me what you're going through. I want to help."

"I... I don't know how to tell you... its just–" She stopped speaking, wondering how to approach the topic. He stayed silent, rubbing circles on her thigh, letting her take her time. He wasn't going to let it go, so she had to tell him.

And then, all of it came out. She told him of how her mother had always wanted her to be perfect, and not being skinny was unacceptable. And so, in order to please her mother, she started eating less and less, eventually resorting to throwing up anything she ate.

"But your mother passed years ago. Why did you not stop?" He questioned gently, now sitting next to her.

She shook her head. "She had planted the image of perfection in my mind. If someone was not skinny, it took away from their beauty. I became obsessed with perfection. Or atleast what I thought was perfection.

"Whenever I looked at Mor, I would want to be perfect. And then, Feyre and her sisters came along. It worsened my obsession with being skinny."

"What are you saying?"

"They are just so damn beautiful. They have great figure, and even when they were mortal, they could have rivaled many fae females. And I want to be like them. Perfect. Someone who you could love. Someone worthy."

"No. Love, please don't think like that. I'm sorry you had to go through that, but you're beautiful as you are. I couldn't care less about your figure. I would love you no matter what."

Tears ran down his face as he said those words, and she instantly felt bad. She buried her face in his neck, trying to stop the tears.

"I'm sorry."

"What for? There is nothing you should be sorry about."

They stayed that way for quite some time, with him rubbing her back and constantly murmuring about how perfect she was and how she didn't need to do this. She sobbed into his chest, the guilt eating at her.

"Stop. Stop, don't feel guilty about it." She realised he could feel her emotions through the bond.

"Love? I suggest we go to Madja. She would know how to help."

"I don't need help." She mumbled, pulling away from him and clutching her knees to her chest.

"Y/n, darling, please..." When she again shook her head, he paused. Then, as if coming up with an idea, he spoke again. "How about we make a deal?"

"What deal?" She asked quietly.

"We go to Madja, and you follow her instructions and try to get better. In return, at the end of every week, I'll do anything you say."

She thought about it. She knew what she was doing was unhealthy, and she did want to get better. If not for herself, then for Azriel. Which was messed up, considering she should be doing this for herself. But this could be a start.

"Anything?" She whispered.

He grinned. "Anything."

"So if I tell you to wear a chicken costume and go out onto the streets and squawk around for the whole day, you'll do it?"

A blush rose to his cheeks, knowing how embarrassed he would be, but he leaned closer. "If that is what it takes."

She blushed, leaning back, but he followed her until their noses bumped. He pecked her lips once, twice, before resting his forehead on hers. "I'll do anything to make you happy."

She smiled.

If he was ready to do anything for her, even wear a chicken costume for her, to help her, then she'll be damned if she became a barrier stopping him from his goal.

"And, if you don't eat in a healthy way, you'll have no energy. And you need that for when we eventually accept the bond."

She stared at him for a moment, wondering what the hell he meant. But when she realised, she stood, sputtering, her face a burning mess. He grinned cockily, leaning back as his hands came to rest behind his head, his legs spread.

"I mean, it'll go on for a week at the least, maybe even a month. More than that, if all goes to plan. So, what do you say?"

She nodded, fighting the smile threatening to overtake her face. "Okay, I'll go." She sat back down, snuggling into his side.

He kissed her head, wrapping his arms and wings around her. "Love? I just want you to know that you don't need to hurry. Take it at your pace. Don't worry about anything else. I'll be there for you in this journey, every step of the way. And when you finally come out on the other side, I'll be waiting for you. I'll always wait for you."

She smiled. She knew it was true.

He would be there for her, no matter what.

And her situation didn't seem so bad, now that he was with her.

They would get through this. Together.

•○🌑○•

Taglist: @eos-princess @bubybubsters

[pandoa]

lines and circles

where lilia falls for a human who is reborn again and again, each life a new life lilia witnesses on the sidelines.his life is like a line. yours is like a circle.

~lilia vanrouge x reincarnating!gender neutral reader~

does this remotely make any sense? no idea. will i still post it because the me months ago wrote this at 2am thinking she was cooking? yes, i will

if lilia were to describe it in simpler terms like he would when explaining something to silver during his younger years...

he'd describe it as if you were a circle and he were a line drawn on the same aging paper. next to each other, yet never touching. together, yet never intersecting.

your circle would loop on and on, starting over at each loop. endless and sure. perfect and for all time. there was no start nor end to your existence, yet still the little world of the aging paper refuses to let you reach the line drawn beside you.

lilia's line.

now, lilia's line—although also endless like your circle—continues on in the same path he's been assigned by whoever oversaw the world you both split but never shared. unlike you, his line is not in a loop. his line travels infinitely and retains everything he sees. he passes your circle, watching you start over, and over, and over, and over again until even he feels much too empty seeing you repeat the same life in a reoccurring path... never-changing, and never-ending.

he supposes that was the most devastating thing about your life as a human. it was your destiny to start and end life in an endless loop like a circle with no ending but its distance still going nowhere. you could walk along that same spherical path, but you still would never reach the end. the end to your cycle of life and death.

you live, you die, and then you're reborn again. that's how it has always been.

lilia knew it would be like this from the start. from the moment he first met you years and years ago, he knew that—unlike him—your life would be short but repetitive, while his was never-ending. never reaching, never touching, never grasping.

all he can do is stand by and watch as your lives begin and end until even his life can't take it anymore.

a/n: WHO LIVES WHO DIES WHO TELLS YOUR STORYYYYYYYYY~~??????

[murdrdocs]

this is my ethan contribution for the next like ... 4 days . for the in my room anon

ethan sits in his room, back against the bed, butt against the carpet, strong arms wrapped around his legs. he's alone, thinking so much that a headache has started to form in his left temple. his eyes are zoned out, facing the dresser in front of him, but he doesn't focus on that. his mind is elsewhere. thinking about her.

the sound of her knuckles tapping against his window is so soft and distant in his present mind that he thinks he imagined it. until it repeats, once, twice, and then ethan's turning his head and blinking to refocus his eyes and he sees her kneeling by the window, a small smile on her lips.

she wears something light, an outfit not suited for the time. but she looks as if she'd just put it on, the garments secure, neat, against her body. she greets him, climbing into the opened window. he greets her, stepping back to allow her entrance.

they talk, ethan sitting on his bed while he watches her move around the room, picking up objects, inspecting them, then sitting then back in a spot that's just a little off from their original place. they talk. until they do more.

she straddles him, lifting her dress, lowering ethan's pants, so she can take him in. he watches her, wide eyed, as she rides him, her hips performing fucking magic on him, putting him under a spell. a spell where he tells himself that he would do anything she wanted. he would do anything under the sun for her, as long as it kept them close, and together. as long as it kept these night rendezvous happening.

he cums inside of her, always, and she never complains. she smiles, kisses him sweetly, lays beside him, holds his hand until he falls asleep. and always, ethan wakes up and she's gone, his window open just enough to leave evidence that she was there in the first place.

the cycle continues.

he sits in his room, late at night, wearing his pajamas as he waits for her to visit. they talk, they fuck, they lay there, ethan falls asleep and she leaves.

"would you do that for me?" she asks him, the night darker than usual, clouds covering the constellations that ethan watches while he waits. the mention of the neighbors next door still sits stiffly in the air of ethan's room. he blinks, his lips part, his eyebrows furrow. he processes.

no. that's something i shouldn't do.

then she sinks down and she throws her head back with a moan and she brings ethan's hand up to cup her tits and ethan groans.

"would you, e?" her voice is so sweet. almost as sweet as the fountain between her plush, velvety thighs. she's like a siren, seducing ethan into doing whatever sick and twisted request she has.

he nods. "yes, yeah. i would do anything for you," her enchanting nature has him rambling, telling her everything. "i adore you. i don't know what i would do if you ignored me. if you left me. fuck, i need you."

she leaves early that night, slipping out of the window when the night is still young and ethan is barely tired at all. she smiles at him as she goes, leaving the window completely open.

as the sun comes up, ethan scrubs at his hands and throws his bloodied clothes in the bonfire pit outside, watching the flames engulf the fabrics with the smell of metal still in his nose.

he doesn't sleep that day, pacing, waiting for the night to come.

he waits. and waits. and wait. the sun sets, two hours pass, then three. he waits.

he sits on the edge of his bed, then the floor, then he opens the window and peeks out, whispering her name. he waits two days. then three, repeating the same actions. he paces outside of his house, walking up and down the street.

he skips his final classes, he skips graduation. the summer comes to an end. two months gone by.

the tap! tap! comes to him in dreams. and he waits.

[deepcollectionredbird]

Jonesy had always carried the burden of a troubled past, one filled with heartache and loneliness. His childhood had been a whirlwind of neglect by his uncaring parents, and financial hardships. Growing up, he’d known emptiness and hunger all too well, often going days without a proper meal, and the constant starvation had left him with a perpetually slight frame. Things only got tougher as he grew older, and realized that he needed to make some money to get by on his own… and when he found out he was pregnant at 19 — just before he planned to finally leave his unsteady childhood home — his world was turned upside down.

The idea of becoming a father at his young age filled him with dread, fearing he would be unable to provide for his child, or form a meaningful bond with them. Years and years of being paid nothing but dust by his parents caused him to feel detached and unable to connect with others… like an outsider in his own life. his own mother and father had failed him, and he didn’t want to continue that cycle.

Haunted by the ghosts of his upbringing, Jonesy was harried by guilt and shame, convinced that he was inadequate to be a parent. He didn’t have his own place, a car to drive around, or hardly enough money to afford to take care of anyone other than himself. Determined not to repeat the history of neglect and instability, he made the difficult decision to give his baby up for adoption early on in his pregnancy. The weight of his choice hung heavy on his heart, but he convinced himself it was for the best.

As the months passed, Jonesy's belly swelled big and full with the life growing inside him. Despite his initial reservations, he found himself marveling at the miracle of pregnancy. The kicks and flutters from within brought a sense of peace and joy he had never experienced before… a newfound connection. He found solace in the idea that this little being was a part of him. As he watched his slender body grow larger, to make room for the baby, he began to appreciate the miracle of life that was unfolding within him… and it gave him the motivation to break the cycle, and make something of himself. He didn’t know how or where, but he was going to get a job, and save up for his baby.

After cashing a few paychecks, and becoming more self-sufficient, he soon realized that, despite his own hardships, he had the capacity to love and nurture a child in ways he never thought possible for himself. And with each passing day, he grew more certain that this unexpected journey was leading him to a place of joy and fulfillment he had never thought attainable. Jonesy began to let go of his fear and doubt, allowing himself to believe that, perhaps, he could turn out to be a good parent after all… and strive to be everything that his own mother and father couldn’t be for him. The love he felt for the baby growing inside him gave him hope for a future that he never dared to imagine before.

[onskepa]

Hey I loved your fics!

I was wondering if you could do head cannons on scientist/avatar reader meeting ronal pre-first movie?

Hello sweetie! Thank you for loving my fics! Hope this can also satisfy you! Enjoy!

P.S: Im taking inspiration from mo'at and Grace's relationship

P.P.S: I dont know if ya wanted it platonic or romantic so I am leaving it out in the open.

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

'Eylan

Much like the RDA setting camp near the omaticaya terriritory, they also placed camp near the Metkayina clan.

Out of everyone in the clan, Ronal was the first and most defensive of the humans. Hostile and wants nothing to do with them.

She and Tonowari would restrict the people from going beyond the reef, beyond the walls that protects them.

Ronal wasnt stupid, she heard stories from the Omaticaya clan. Constantly clashing, children dead for simply defending their land, polluting their water system.

Ronal wont let that happen. May Eywa guide her to the right path for her people and for her growing family.

And Eywa did, but not how Ronal wanted.

A scientist was either brave, brainless, or just stupid, but this small scientist managed to go into the territory and tries to show she isn't a threat.

Ronal believed that human wouldn't last long, her warriors wouldn't let the human touch land and would chase her away.

For days however, the human would keep coming, and would be chased away. The cycle would repeat for weeks until Ronal had enough.

Oddly enough, the human reminds Ronal of herself. Stubborn, strong head, and wont stop until the other caves in.

Ronal was the one to cave in.

Giving in, and hopes what she is doing is right.

The human scientist she met was odd to say. She spoke na'vi very well and fluent like it was her native language. Was able to communicate well and did the greetings very well. Which surprised everyone.

ronal took it upon herself to get to know the human and see if her fears were simply in her mind.

As days past, ronal was still wary but lowered her walls for the human. She was fascinated that the human was willing to learn many things, the animals, the culture of her people, what everything means to them.

It wasnt just ronal that the human shown kindness too. The children took fascination to the human and would ask to play with her. The parents of course were worried and would watch not far from where the children were playing with the human.

Days turned to weeks and weeks turned to months.

Ronal dare say the human earned her trust, the human didnt rip or destroy anything. Didnt even take samples to take back. Simply admiring her beautiful island.

Until one day, the human came back, but not as a human. She came back as a reef na'vi.

Ronal heard of these "dreamwalkers" or "false na'vi" as they were called.

The human now in her other body, looked more comfortable. More relaxed.

"'Eylan" ronal said. The scientist looked at her confusingly. "from today onwards, I will call you 'Eylan"

And that was the start of many things. Tonowari deems 'Eylan is worthy of doing her Iknimaya. Many of the people were shocked, to give a dreamwalker a trial like that. Perhaps there was something different of the fellow scientist.

Ronal personally taught 'Eylan the ways of healing, weaving and craft, how to make her own clothing and what each item represents.

Tonowari showed 'Eylan the ways of hunting and how to fight like a warrior.

The people all showed 'Eylan different skills and methods, the life style of the people. Everyone helped to prepare 'Eylan for her iknimaya

The iknimaya was hard, tricky, and tiring. But 'Eylan showed she could do it, taming an ilu, a skimwing, how to hunt, proving her worth among the people. And she passed in more ways than one.

'Eylan earned the trust of tonowari, ronal, and the people. And it was long after that ronal finally introduced her young children to 'Eylan.

'Eylan is Metkayina now. And she earned her tattoos. A tattoo was done on her arm, symbolizing her strength and her place among the people.

Things were better when the tulkun arrived. Ronal was more than happy to show roa to 'Eylan.

Roa was happy to see ronal smiling more, seeing her eyes shine brightly, to see 'Eylan was definitely a nice surprise. She welcome 'Eylan and was able to communicate with her well.

Ronal saw 'Eylan as a friend, someone she has come to love and enjoy her Prescence.

'Eylan truly felt blessed by Eywa. To be seen as one of the people is her greatest accomplishment. The trials and turbulent was all worth it. She truly feels connected with the people and with their culture.

Most importantly, she enjoys her close relationship with ronal. And hopefully, their bond only grows stronger with time.

And that is it for this! my first Ronal request! I am happy how it turned out. Until next time! see ya!

'Eylan = Friend

[remcycl333]

instant manifestation 🍄

something i have noticed lately is that there has become an obsession in this community with instant manifestation. people send me asks all day long that say "i want to manifest xyz and i want to manifest it NOW. i don't want to wait i want it today or not at all."

is instant manifestation possible? of course it is!! we've all seen the success stories where people have received instant results. i've manifested instantly as well. it's 100% possible, but i still feel like the community has become a little too obsessed with manifesting instantly.

you found the law of assumption and found out that you could manifest literally anything you want. endless money, the love of your life, a gigantic mansion for free, your desired face. and you say "okay. but only if i can get it in one day or less." ???????

you have the power to get anything you want, with no limitations, just by thinking thoughts. sure, you might have to think these thoughts consistently for a few days, maybe even weeks or months. but then you will literally have your desire for as long as you want it--for the rest of your life if that's what you want!!! but you're not willing for it to take any longer than one day???

yes, it's possible to manifest your entire dream life in one day. each and every one of you are capable of doing so. but to give up on your desire and/or your dream life because you are not willing to put in time and effort to cultivate what you want??

i understand that some of you are manifesting things that have a deadline. this does not apply to you. but a lot of you need to stop setting arbitrary deadlines for your desires. for example, "i need to manifest my SP by christmas." or what? what's gonna happen if you don't manifest them by christmas? are you no longer going to want to be with them? are you not gonna want your desire anymore?

9/10 times all setting a deadline does is add unnecessary stress to your manifestation. "omg its x amount of days until my deadline and i still don't have it oh no i need to affirm more i must be doing something wrong" etc. or, the deadline will come and go and you will continue manifesting your desire, but now your confidence is shaken and you feel discouraged. you set another deadline and the process repeats itself over and over again until you’ve created the limiting beliefs that you just can’t manifest, that you’re bad at manifesting, that manifesting is impossible for you. sound familiar?

 stop making arbitrary deadlines for your manifestation because at the end of the day if it comes and goes and you still don't have your desire you are still going to want it.

let me give you a little anecdote:

in 2020 i wanted to manifest a text from an sp. i had already been trying for a while, but i had discovered the law of attraction first and wasted a lot of time on that. when i discovered the law of assumption, i was growing impatient and wanted to manifest a text instantly. i had already been waiting for so long. i would check my phone constantly and see i didn’t have a text from my sp and get so upset. id re-affirm the fact that he still hadn't texted me. i started setting deadlines. i decided i’d manifest a text from him overnight, then by the end of the week, then by summer, then by my birthday. my deadlines would come and go and i would “fail” .... but i still wanted to talk to my sp. i still wanted him. so i’d keep going, now with the belief that manifesting a text from him was fucking impossible and that i’d never get what i wanted. it wasn't until months of this cycle passed that i finally put my foot down and said you know that? fuck time. i don't give a fuck how long it takes, i am going to give this my all until it manifests. i don't care if it takes months, i will not waver. i will not throw a fit because it's been x amount of days and it still hasn't manifested. i know that no matter how much time goes by i will still want my sp. so i won't stop until i get him. i think it took me about three weeks of keeping my mental diet in check and not reacting to my 3D, but i got my manifestation. and those three weeks were worth it.

you have two options: 1) stop giving a fuck about time, how long you've been persisting and how much longer you may have to go, and just give it your all and get what you want, or 2) complain every day about how long it's taking because you are hellbent on manifesting instantly and hate your current circumstances, and have to stay exactly where you are with no progress because you won't just put in the work.

which choice are you going to make?

[sapphicromanoffxo]

With You Always | n.r x w.m

pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff

wc: 1.5k+

Warnings: slight angst, comfort, fluff (look at me writing something that is not smut 🫣)

summary: Wanda grapples with financial stress and struggling to cope with it. When Natasha's support breaks through Wanda's defenses, they made a decision on how to move forward together.

A/N: one thing could happen right after I have a breakdown. it's either I'm gonna be productive, or succumb even further to my own thoughts. Guess what I chose! 😀

╰┈➤ Masterlist

Every week, Wanda followed the same routine. She woke up early, went to work, and returned home tired. Her job paid the bills and put food on the table, but lately, it felt like she was stuck in a never-ending cycle. Despite her love for her job, the monotony was starting to take its toll.

What really weighed on Wanda's mind were her finances. Each paycheck seemed to disappear as quickly as it came. After paying rent, utilities, and transportation expenses, there was barely enough left for groceries and other essentials. And then there was the money she sent to her family every month, which added to her financial stress.

As the days passed, Wanda couldn't shake off the feeling of exhaustion and anxiety. She longed for a change, something to break the cycle and give her a sense of relief. But for now, she continued to push through, hoping that things would eventually get better.

Natasha couldn't ignore the signs of exhaustion that Wanda was trying so hard to hide. During their monthly Sunday lunches, the only day that Wanda has her day off, Natasha noticed how Wanda would drift off, her mind seemingly elsewhere. Sometimes, Wanda would ask Natasha to repeat herself, her focus scattered and distant.

These subtle changes in Wanda's behavior troubled Natasha. She cherished their time together and didn't want anything to come between them, especially not Wanda's troubles. Natasha had a hunch about what might be bothering Wanda, but she didn't want to jump to conclusions. Instead, she hoped Wanda would confide in her when the time was right.

As they sat together, sharing their meal in Wanda's little apartment, Natasha couldn't shake off the feeling of unease. She wanted to reach out to Wanda, to coax her into opening up about whatever was weighing on her mind. But she knew she had to be patient, to wait for Wanda to feel comfortable enough to share her burden. However, she also knew that sometimes Wanda needs a little push, and a gentle reminder that she's there for her, and is willing to lend a shoulder to lean on, no matter how heavy Wanda is carrying.

"Detka?" Natasha's voice was soft, filled with concern as she reached out to Wanda.

Wanda's mind snapped back to the present at the sound of Natasha's voice. "Huh?" she mumbled, her thoughts still swirling in a haze.

Natasha's gaze was steady, searching Wanda's face for any signs of distress. "Is there something troubling you?" she asked gently. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

Wanda hesitated, her words tinged with uncertainty. "I'm sorry. I've just been tired lately," she admitted, but her voice lacked conviction, even to her own ears.

Natasha's brow furrowed with worry. "There's something more than just tiredness, isn't there?" she pressed gently. "I can see it in your eyes. Tell me, please?"

Wanda swallowed hard, feeling the weight of Natasha's concern. "I... I don't know," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. "I feel like I'm drowning in responsibilities, like I can't keep up with everything. And I don't want to burden you with it."

Natasha reached across the table, taking Wanda's hand in hers. "You're not a burden, Wanda. We're in this together," she reassured her, squeezing her hand gently. "What's troubling you?"

Wanda sat there motionless, struggling with her emotions, she knew that honesty was the only path forward. Natasha's unwavering gaze filled with concern made it impossible for Wanda to keep her struggles hidden any longer.

Taking a deep breath, Wanda finally spoke, her voice thick with emotion. "I've been.. I've been having financial problems," she admitted, her tears flowing freely down her cheeks. She couldn't bear to look Natasha in the eye as she revealed her inner turmoil.

Natasha reached out, gently wiping away Wanda's tears, her heart breaking at the sight of her girlfriend in pain. Wanda's words tugged at Natasha's heartstrings, stirring up a mix of empathy and determination to help her through this tough time.

Wanda continued, her voice trembling with vulnerability. "I sent almost half of my bi-monthly paycheck to my mom. After paying rent, I don't know how I'll make it to the end of the month," she confessed, her words heavy with the weight of her financial issue.

Despite her fears of judgement, Wanda felt a sense of relief wash over her as she opened up to Natasha. She knew Natasha came from a privileged background, and the stark contrast with her own struggles made her hesitate to share her troubles. But Natasha's kind and understanding nature reassured Wanda that she was in a safe space.

Natasha listened attentively, her heart aching for Wanda. She had offered countless times for Wanda to move in with her, to ease the financial strain and offer support, but Wanda had always hesitated, determined to stand on her own two feet especially after she ran away from her family, to escape the toxicity that suffocates her everyday.

But now, faced with Wanda's raw vulnerability, Natasha renewed her offer with even more conviction. "Wanda, you don't have to go through this alone," she said softly, her voice filled with sincerity. "I'm here for you, in every way I can be. Let me help you, please."

Wanda laid her head on Natasha's shoulder, her tears soaking into the fabric of Natasha's shirt as she released the pent-up pain she had been carrying for far too long. Natasha's offer weighed heavily on her mind, tempting her with the promise of relief, yet she couldn't shake the nagging feeling of guilt inside of her.

"Natty," Wanda murmured, her voice muffled against Natasha's shoulder, "you know I can't just accept your offer like that. I appreciate it more than words can say, but I need to be able to stand on my own two feet. I'm an adult, and I need to figure this out for myself."

Natasha held Wanda closer, her heart aching at the sight of her girlfriend's struggle. "I understand, baby," she replied gently, stroking Wanda's hair in a soothing gesture. "But you don't have to carry this burden alone. Let me help you. Your strength and independence are admirable, but there's no shame in accepting support when you need it most."

Wanda lifted her head, meeting Natasha's gaze with tear-filled eyes. "It's just... I don't want to feel like I'm taking advantage of your generosity," she admitted, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

Natasha cupped Wanda's face in her hands, her expression sincere. "You're not taking advantage of anything, Wanda," she insisted. "I'm willingly offering this to you. We're partners, in every sense of the word. Let me be there for you, just as you've been there for me countless times."

Wanda wiped off her tears and attempted to lighten the heavy atmosphere with a playful jab, her lips curling into a small smile. "Yeah, remember all those times I saved you from wrinkled work clothes because you couldn't handle the iron?" she teased, hoping to redirect how serious their conversation is.

Natasha chuckled, playing along with Wanda's jest. "Oh, and let's not forget about the countless mornings you sacrificed your own coffee flask so I could carry around your precious brew," she countered, her eyes twinkling with affection.

Despite the weight of their discussion, the exchange brought a brief moment of laughter between them, a reminder of the bond they shared and the little ways they supported each other through life's challenges. In that moment, Wanda felt a glimmer of hope knowing that no matter what obstacles lay ahead, they would face them together.

Wanda's heart raced as she processed Natasha's offer once again. "Do you mean it? You want me to move in with you?" she asked, needing reassurance that she wouldn't be imposing on Natasha's life.

Natasha's smile was warm and genuine as she nodded. "Absolutely," she affirmed, her eyes shining with sincerity. "Just imagine us waking up together, bickering over who gets to shower first, and deciding what delicious breakfast we'll whip up together. You'll be under my wing, well taken care of."

Taking a deep breath, Wanda finally relented, a sense of relief flooding over her. "Okay," she agreed, her voice filled with gratitude. "But on one condition: I'll take charge of our food expenses and groceries. I know you can't cook to save your life, Natasha."

Natasha chuckled at Wanda's condition, her laughter echoing in the room. "That's a deal. But hey, I'm still alive, aren't I?" she teased, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

Wanda rolled her eyes playfully. "Yeah, thanks to my cooking and your obsession with takeout," she retorted, a playful smirk tugging at her lips.

With the moving plans settled and Wanda's last month's rent sorted out, Natasha couldn't resist making a lighthearted remark. "You know," she joked with a playful glint in her eyes, "moving in together is like the true test of any lesbian relationship. Next on the agenda: adopting a cat."

Wanda laughed at Natasha's comment, feeling a sense of warmth and excitement at the thought of their future together. "Oh, definitely," she replied, her voice filled with amusement. "A cat would complete the picture perfectly."

As they bantered back and forth about potential cat names and the logistics of pet ownership, Wanda felt a surge of happiness knowing that they were embarking on this new chapter of their relationship together. With Natasha by her side, and perhaps a furry feline companion in the near future, Wanda knew that their home would be filled with love, laughter, and endless silly little adventures.

Yeah, I know. I took a little break from smut 'cause I need comfort in my life. 🥺 I hope you still like this one.

Divider from @cafekitsune 🫶

[obsolescent]

This Side of Paradise - Part One

Part Two

Pairing: Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick x GN!Reader

Summary: Kyle and you are roommates–flatmates–while you study abroad in the UK. He’s usually gone due to his work and it doesn’t bother you, at first. You like being alone and like little company, but you start to feel an odd pang after a traumatic event happens that causes him to come back from base early. 

Category/Prompt: Two-part series | "I'll take care of you."

Author's Notes: Ahhh I'm so excited to be participating in @glitterypirateduck's GazFest! I've been meaning to finish this and this has given me that push. This is also the first event I've participated in on Tumblr. I hope you enjoy!

Content Warnings: Swearing, mentions of a fire but not very descriptive, reader is from the southern US, reader is more introverted, Kyle is worried for your wellbeing.

Word Count: 1,267

Another night studying, another night alone. You don’t mind, being more on the reclusive side. You really don’t mind having to interact with others, you just prefer not to. Speaking of which, you quite enjoy having a roommate–flatmate, as he would say–that’s hardly home. He doesn’t correct you in a rude way, more like he’s trying to teach you to use more of the dialect here. He’s gone for months at a time every once in a while, typically it’s just a few weeks, then he’s back for a month and the cycle repeats. It has to do with the military, but that’s all he would say about his line of work. You have a part time job at a gas–petrol, he would correct you again–station. The cultural difference between home and here is a lot more than you were expecting, having been in America your whole life to suddenly being “across the pond.”

Though the interactions you have with people here are very amusing, the double takes when people hear you at work has you “hooting and hollering”, so to speak. Most ask for you to keep talking, interested in your accent. It’s led to a few good conversations, if you’re being honest. There’s a handful of some, though, who’ve heard you speak and think you’re dumber than a bag of rocks and let you know so. Those aren’t as amusing. Regardless, it’s been a pleasant experience overall while staying in the UK, especially with the one you’re rooming with.

Meeting Kyle was by chance. He had listed his…flat, on a website that helps students around the world find accommodation close to colleges and universities. You had seen in the listing that he wasn’t home often, and being more of an introvert, that seemed like the best option for you. You had reached out and agreed on a time to chat. He was more than what you were expecting in every which way. Charismatic, kind, funny, and definitely including looks. He’s a sight for sore eyes, that’s for sure. You’re glad he’s away for the most part, having someone around looking like that would surely be a distraction for you.

After that first initial conversation with Kyle, you were sure he would be the one you would be living with while studying abroad. After getting everything sorted out, between speaking with your advisor and obtaining a passport, you were set to fly out. Kyle practically demanded he pick you up and take you to your shared quarters, since the airport was quite a drive away from the apartment. He also mentioned wanting to show you around some. Ever the gentleman. Thankful for his offer at being a free tour guide, you take him up on the offer. You were glad to have met someone willing to help out and be so generous towards you, it was in his nature and you knew just by his interactions with you that he did this for everyone that came into his life.

Back to the present, it’s a Tuesday night, and there’s not much going on for you. After leaving work, you came home and made a quick dinner for yourself and settled down on the couch for a study session. You slide your earbuds in, unable to focus if it’s an actual song, and listen to sounds of nature, rain and the like. Hours have passed since you’ve immersed in your college work, sounds blaring through the speakers in your ears. You don’t realize the fire alarm has started blaring.

What finally gets you to notice is the sudden phone call that cuts the sounds out, a call from Kyle. He must’ve received an alert. “Hey–woah–I just noticed that–” “Bloody Hell! Are you still in the flat? Get outside! Christ!” You don’t even think, your brain going into panic mode, you snatch your shoes from beside the door and run for the stairs. You’re on the fifth floor, happy that you can see so much of the city, but not so happy in the event of a fire, like now. You’re not sure where the fire is located, you’re just hoping it won’t prevent you from reaching the exit. ‘What the hell would I even do if it is? Don’t think like that, just keep running, just keep going don’t think about it–’

“Are you there, love? You alright? Please say something–” Kyle’s frantic voice finally breaks through your internal monologue, earbuds still secured in your ears. “S-sorry, Kyle, I was just…I’m on my way down, I’m on the third floor now.” Your feet carrying you faster than you’ve ever ran before, you’re not seeing anyone else on the stairs…God, how long has the alarm been going off? What about the sprinkler system, why hasn’t it turned on already?’ “Thank God, it’ll be alright, just take some deep breaths and keep pushing, yeah? You’ll be outside before you know it. I’m right here with you.” His reassurance is welcomed, taking his advice, you begin some breathing exercises the best you can while scurrying down the flights of stairs.

Second floor, almost there. You feel like you’re flying down the steps, everything numb. You round the corner, about to hit the top step of the next flight when you see it. Fuck, that’s smoke. “K-Kyle, the fire, it’s on the second floor.” You begin to cough, covering your nose and mouth with your sleeve. “Fucking hell. Go back up to the previous floor. The hallway windows should have an external fire escape. Try those, yeah?” You nod your head even though he cannot see, trying to breathe like he told you to. You push the door open into the third floor’s hallway, the window to your right just a few feet away. You rush to it, having to yank on the window a few times before it pries open.

It’s one of those ladders that retracts, the end of it about 20 feet from the ground without the extension. You try releasing the mechanism that will release the other part to extend fully, but it won’t budge. You toss your shoes to the ground below, beginning to brace yourself to drop the rest of the way. “Did you get it?” You hear him ask, shuffling coming from his side of the call. “Y-yeah I got it, the ladder won’t extend all the way, fall’s maybe 20 feet.” “You can do it, love, just tuck your chin and lower your head when you drop. May be bruised and cut up some, but you’ll be alright, you can do it.” You get to the last rung, letting yourself dangle for a moment before taking the leap, literally. You take a deep breath and let go.

You hit the ground with an explosion of pain in your left arm. Letting out a cry of pain you hold onto your arm, moving other limbs in different directions to check their conditions. Kyle yells your name, “Hey! I need you to answer me, are you alright? What’s wrong?” Kyle cuts through the fuzziness in your brain. “F-Fuck. My arm, I think I broke it.” You begin to stand on shaky legs, testing the rest of your endurance. You falter and collapse to the ground, absolutely exhausted. The adrenaline must have worn off now that you’re no longer in immediate danger.

You lay your head back against the concrete, staring up at the night sky. The moon is bright and beautiful, hanging low. It’s the last thing you see before you slip into unconsciousness, Kyle calling your name over and over again lost to oblivion.

Tags: @sofasoap, since you tag me in your Gaz fics!