#and then I have to fight my mobility every day too

[rorleuaisen]

So, I’m one of those people. Ibs. Bread hurts. Gluten is fine. And I absolutely cannot have any wheat based store goods, besides saltines and pasta. I also can’t do gluten free goods, because I have a rice intolerance. It’s fun.

But also, I talk to people and they share their food issues with me. So I hear interesting things. Like someone who can eat a specific brand of flour, but can’t tolerate even the wheat things I can eat(like pasta). Or how some people with wheat issues can’t eat butter sourced in the usa, but irish butter is safe for them. And I get to share my weird little things, like how little bit of butter or milk hurt my gut, but I can have mozzarella cheese everyday without issues.

Bodies are fascinatingly complex, and food and digestion are a lot less understood than I would like. And I hate fad diets. But I can also appreciate how it can make people try something different and maybe it’s better for them.

And I don’t think people understand the impact food can have on your body. I’ve had to whittle my diet down bare bones to get to a pain free state. I’m on a 100% pain free diet, and as a side effect, whenever I add a food back into my diet, I can feel the changes in my body. Food can give me depression, overload, massive cravings, pain, fatigue, bloating, bowel issues, body odor, migraines, and brain fog. I don’t say what foods give me what, because these are my food triggers. My food intolerances. But I never noticed any of this before. And it has been… enlightening.

That said, diet with caution. Listen to your body. Fad diets can seriously harm you. Restricting food can harm you. If you choose to diet, do it is a learning experience to see if you can learn new things about food and your body. Fuck “super foods”. Fuck “empty calories”. Listen to yourself, and experiment with food safely.

Here are some things that are true: if you don’t have gluten intolerance, gluten is not going to hurt you. Gluten does not cause autism or ADHD or whatever.

Here are some other things that are true: Up to 20% of people will suffer from IBS during their lives. IBS is more common in people with autism and other mental disorders. IBS symptoms are uncomfortable and having them all the time can distract you and push you towards a meltdown. Bread is a common IBS trigger.

I’m going to ramble, so here is the important advice: if bread upsets your stomach try switching to sourdough (check the ingredients – if it contains vinegar or acid it’s not real sourdough) and make an appointment with a dietitian (not a nutritionist. Dietitians have training. Nutritionists have opinions).

Now let’s pretend you don’t know the above facts. You just know that dealing with meltdowns is hard. One day a friend tells you that cutting gluten helped them and you’re desperate for anything so you try it. You feel better. You have less meltdowns. You make an appointment with your doctor to tell them about this. The doctor runs a test and tells you you aren’t gluten intolerant. The doctor doesn’t ask any more questions. Maybe you try reintroducing bread back into your diet and your symptoms come back. Do you conclude that your doctor knows what he’s talking about? Or do you conclude that gluten is bad for you despite your apparent lack of gluten intolerance – maybe it’s just a poison! Maybe no one should be eating it!

I don’t have a point. Rather, I have several points.

The first and most important point is to get yourself checked for FODMAP sensitivities. Wheat is not the only FODMAP and if you tweak your diet a little you can have a much better time. 

The second point is that if someone tells you something stupid try to meet them with compassion. It might not be true that they have a secret gluten issue that the doctors are lying about, but it might be true that bread upsets their stomach and makes them miserable and they are telling you about this with the best language they have. It might be true that everyone else is either dismissing their problems or telling them that gluten is a poison, and by giving them a more even view (it probably isn’t gluten but did you know that wheat has other components?) you are opening up the world to them! This will be a lot more persuasive to them about the gluten thing than just telling them they’re wrong will be. 

The third point is that even if someone is wrong about why something helps they might have a point about it helping. Homeopathic hospitals had better survival rates in the 1800s because the doctors washed their hands. Buying gluten-free bread can help your autistic meltdowns by not triggering the IBS you don’t know you have. Asking why someone thinks something will get you a lot farther than just telling them they’re wrong. Curiosity is an awesome tool. Use it!

Shit’s complicated. We’re all just doing our best.

[heywriters]

Rescued Writing Links!

When cleaning out the HEY, Writers! Pinterest I moved some links here. The internet has changed a LOT since I started collecting these, so some links may include outdated info. All were still active when I made this, but it's been in my drafts for a hot minute.

Protip! In Firefox, check to toggle reader view when reading these (mobile: the page icon in the url bar; desktop: same icon or hit F9). This removes popups, ads, screen clutter, and often has an audio option.

Survivors of Internet Decay Award!

These active sites featured most often in my collections so they get the top of the list.

Helping Writers Become Authors

Mythcreants

Bryn Donovan

Getting Started (Ideas & Intros)

How to Start Writing a Book: Learn One Writer’s Process | Marian Schembari

How to Start a Story: 30 Opening Scene Examples | Bryn Donovan

Don’t Panic! What to Do When You Have Too Many Story Ideas | Faye Kirwin

How to Write a Killer First Chapter | Rae Elliot

How To Write A Captivating Opening Sentence

Outlining

How to Create a Flexible Outline for Your Novel | Faye Kirwin

Protagonists

How to Write Believable Characters | Bridget McNulty

4 Ways to Write a Likable Protag at the Start of the Character Arc | KM Weiland

5 Tips for Writing a Likable "Righteous" Character | KM Weiland

I Hate Your Protagonist! Want to Know Why? | KM Weiland

The Secret to Writing Dynamic Characters: It's Always Their Fault | KM Weiland

A Protagonist’s Moment of Realisation

Antagonists

Blurring the Lines: What Are Anti-Heroes and Anti-Villains?

Antagonists: Inner & Outer Demons | Kristen Lamb

How to Write Multiple Antagonists | KM Weiland

Character Building

The Epic Guide to Character Creation, Part 1 | Kylie Day

Pick Up A Bad Habit | Maggie Maxwell

How To Write Characters from the Opposite Gender | Rachel Poli

Top 4 Tips for Using Backstory in Your Novel | Diana Anderson-Tyler

Depicting Background Characters | Chris Winkle

Scene Building

The 5 Elements Of A Good Scene | Amanda Patterson

A New Way to Think About Scene Structure | KM Weiland

2 Ways to Make the Most of Your Story’s Climactic Setting | KM Weiland

8 Things Writers Forget When Writing Fight Scenes | Lisa Voisin

Descriptions

Master List of Facial Expressions | Bryn Donovan

Master List of Words to Describe Voices | Bryn Donovan

Master List of Physical Description for Writers | Bryn Donovan

Writer’s Guide to Serious Injuries and Calamities | Bryn Donovan

How to Ground Your Reader (in the setting) | Rachel Craft

The Forgotten Fifth Sense | Writer's Relief

Never Name an Emotion in Your Story | KM Weiland

Show, Don't Tell: How to Write the Stages of Grief | Ruthanne Reid

100 Words for Facial Expressions

Dialogue

How To Write Good Dialogue: Ten Tips | Irving Weinman

Seven Dialogue Don’ts | Jason Bougger

10 Keys to Writing Dialogue in Fiction | Katherine Cowley

Points-Of-View (POV)

What Every Writer Ought to Know About the Omniscient POV | KM Weiland

Motivation & Support

What New Writers Need To Know About Fear | Bryan Collins

How to Discover Your Writing Process with Gabriela Pereira | Kirsten Oliphant

Editing & Revising

18 Overused Words to Replace When Writing | Oxford Tutoring

An Easy Way to Immediately Improve Your Character’s Action Beats | KM Weiland

Want More Depth to Your Writing? | Sacha Black

How Much is Too Much Backstory? | Ellen Brock

Why Your Writing Sounds Weird (And What You Can Do About It) | Joe Brock

Self-Editing for Fiction Writers | Jenny Bravo

Favorite Revision and Editing Tricks

Short Stories & Flashfic

How to Write a Story a Week: A Day-by-Day Guide | Emily Wenstrom

How Flash Fiction / Microfiction Can Help With Your Writing | Rhianne Williams

Worksheets & Downloads

Writing Worksheet Archive

If anyone out there loves making lists and wants to transport this to another site, you have every right to do so! Just let me know in a reblog so I can share it here again :)

---

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[thesecondhandwoman]

you did my last ask so great I had to ask again. This time could you do a Grayson or Ambessa with a chronically ill reader. More so on the chronic pain side. Maybe they need mobile aids? Take your time, drink some water and take care of yourself

-🧚‍♂️

CHRONICALLY ILL

Ambessa x f!reader

Synopsis: Ambessa has always loved you, ever since the day you two had become so close. But once you slowly become more and more ill, you start to doubt that she would ever love such a burden.

Request: Anon 🤍

Noxus, with its towering spires and ever-burning forges, was a city of unyielding strength. It was a place where weakness was supposedly stamped out, where survival meant thriving against all odds. You had grown up in the shadow of that philosophy, and it had shaped you in ways you didn’t fully realize until your body began to betray you.

At first, it had been manageable—an ache here, a stiffness there. But as the years went on, the pain grew relentless. It wasn’t the kind of battle you could fight with a blade or conquer with brute force, and in Noxus, that was a struggle all its own.

Then there was Ambessa.

Your life as her assistant had started humbly, a position born out of necessity rather than ambition. You had worked tirelessly, managing her correspondence, organizing her campaigns, and ensuring her days flowed as seamlessly as possible. Ambessa had always been a figure larger than life—sharp, commanding, and utterly unyielding. But as time passed, she had seen through the masks you wore, glimpsing the pain you thought you’d hidden so well.

And instead of turning away, she stayed.

Now, as the warm glow of her private study illuminated the richly furnished room, you sat curled up in your favorite chair, a steaming cup of tea trembling slightly in your hands. Your cane rested against the chair’s arm, its polished wood worn smooth from years of use.

The pain was worse today, a deep, gnawing ache that radiated through your legs and up into your spine. Even the soft cushion beneath you felt unforgiving, and every shift of your weight sent new waves of discomfort rippling through your body. You tried to focus on the tea, on the way the steam curled into the air, but it was impossible to ignore the familiar throb of pain.

The sound of heavy boots against the stone floor made your heart jump. Ambessa entered the room with the confidence of someone who owned not just the space but the very air within it. Her gaze swept over you, sharp and assessing, and she frowned the moment her eyes met yours.

“How long have you been sitting there, little one?” Her voice was low, rich, and filled with a concern she never bothered to mask when it came to you.

You offered a tired smile, though it felt half-hearted at best. “Not too long,” you lied, knowing she wouldn’t believe you.

Ambessa crossed the room in a few long strides, her imposing presence somehow comforting rather than intimidating. She knelt before you, her strong hands resting on the arms of your chair as she studied your face.

“Do not lie to me,” she said softly, her voice carrying the weight of command.

You sighed, your shoulders sagging under the invisible weight you carried. “A while,” you admitted. “It’s been one of those days.”

Her frown deepened, and she reached out to take the teacup from your trembling hands, setting it aside with care. Her calloused fingers found yours, enveloping them in a warmth that made your throat tighten.

“You should have called for me,” she said, her tone gentle but firm.

“I didn’t want to bother you,” you replied, looking away. “You’ve got armies to command, strategies to plan. You don’t need to be worrying about me.”

Ambessa let out a soft, exasperated sigh. “And yet, here I am, worrying about you. What does that tell you?”

You didn’t answer, the guilt curling in your chest too heavy to put into words.

“Look at me,” she said, her voice softening. When you finally met her gaze, her amber eyes were filled with an intensity that made it hard to breathe. “You are not a burden, Y/N. You are not something I tolerate or endure. You are mine, and I will always care for you. Do you understand?”

Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, and you nodded silently.

Ambessa rose smoothly to her full height, towering over you but somehow making you feel safe rather than small. She moved to sit on the armrest of your chair, her arm wrapping around your shoulders as she pulled you against her side. The scent of steel and leather clung to her, grounding you in a way nothing else could.

“Tell me what you need,” she murmured, her lips brushing against your temple.

“Just…stay,” you whispered, leaning into her. “It helps, having you here.”

She pressed a kiss to the top of your head, her lips lingering for a moment before she pulled back just enough to meet your gaze. “Then here I’ll stay.”

The hours slipped by as Ambessa stayed true to her word. She didn’t so much as glance at the mountain of paperwork on her desk or the sealed missives waiting for her attention. Instead, she focused entirely on you.

When your pain became too much to sit upright, she helped you to the large, plush bed in the corner of the room. She adjusted the pillows with meticulous care, ensuring your legs were elevated just enough to ease the pressure.

“Comfortable?” she asked, her hand lingering on your knee as she knelt beside the bed.

“Getting there,” you said with a faint smile.

She nodded, standing to fetch a soft, fur-lined blanket from a nearby chair. Draping it over you, she tucked it around your sides with a gentleness that would have surprised anyone who only knew her as the iron-fisted warlord of Noxus.

As you settled in, the pain began to ebb—not completely, but enough that you could breathe a little easier. Ambessa sat beside you, her hand resting on top of yours, her thumb tracing lazy circles over your knuckles.

“Tell me about the mountains again,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

She smiled, a rare and genuine expression that lit up her face. “Ah, the mountains. Strong, unyielding, and ancient. They remind me of you.”

You let out a quiet laugh. “I don’t feel very unyielding right now.”

Ambessa’s smile didn’t waver. “Perhaps not in this moment. But every day, you endure what would break most others. That is strength, my love. Strength I admire.”

Her words wrapped around you like a shield, deflecting the self-doubt that often lingered at the edges of your mind.

“Thank you,” you murmured, squeezing her hand weakly.

“Always,” she replied, leaning down to press a lingering kiss to your forehead.

As the night wore on, your pain ebbed and flowed, but Ambessa remained at your side. She spoke of her travels, of the unyielding peaks of Noxus, and the people who called them home. Her voice was steady, like the rhythm of a heartbeat, lulling you into a fragile sense of peace.

When sleep finally claimed you, it was with the knowledge that no matter how relentless your battles became, Ambessa would always be there—your shield, your comfort, and the one person who made the fight worth it.

A/N: This is definitely not my best way of successfully fulfilling a response, but I hope it was alright! (I love requests like this)

[elysiuminfra]

i want to talk about walmart for a second. if you haven’t worked or known someone who worked for walmart, you probably don’t know how bad it is. most people don’t, so i want to talk about it.

there’s a points system for absences. if you miss work, and can’t cover it with accrued time off (because you don’t just Get time off - it builds up over time. it takes about a month of straight work to get a day off.) you get a point. five points and you’re at risk of termination. all managers - team leads, and above them, coaches - have the power to excuse points so that you don’t get fired. some do, so you don’t lose your job. most don’t. five days, that’s it.

if you miss more than three shifts of work due to a medical issue, you have to go through a third party company (which isn’t really third party.) to get a medical exception so you don’t lose your job. it is hard to get this. they need a lot of documentation to prove that you somehow deserved to miss work. they don’t accept regular doctors notes. this is somehow nebulously legal. you are also forced to work while sick and infectious. flu, strep, covid, doesnt matter for all departments except produce and deli. even then, they only send you home if you throw up *at work* or have food-related illnesses. every other department you’re not allowed to go home. more than likely you are being exposed to someone who’s sick at walmart, because its either come in sick or get fired.

i work hard. everyone *has* to work hard. you are on your feet 8 hours a day. you can’t sit. there are no surfaces to sit on. some departments are harder than others. i worked in OPD, the online grocery fulfillment department. i would walk, bare minimum, 7 to 8 miles a day, hauling sometimes over 200 pounds of groceries. every day. now i work in the deli. you are constantly moving. this is very typical for the deli - you are given too many tasks to perform in one day. most days i can barely get enough done. i know people don’t take their legally entitled second breaks. I know people who have to work off the clock just to get everything done. my department - as is *most other departments* - is understaffed. i cook, clean, work the slicer, and dispense food at the same time. and trust me when i tell you the standards of cleanliness in my department is high, but in practice it is very, very poor. simply because there is usually only one of us working back there, and we just can’t do everything right all at once.

none of the “fresh” food in the bakery / produce area is fresh. the bread is baked in store, but the dough is made and frozen elsewhere. sometimes it’s been frozen for weeks. everything is shockingly artificial. same with produce. you’re better off buying your produce elsewhere, or even locally. walmart has been fraught with recall after recall.

people are cheated out of retirements. so many people I know that are at retirement age simply can’t. there are people working here in their 70s. they are being overworked. there are a lot of teenagers that work up front. they are being overworked. I know two kids who are disabled that work the register. they aren’t allowed to sit. one had to fight to be able to get a medical accommodation and only got one when he threatened to sue, because not taking a doctor’s note for an accommodation is illegal. they do it anyways. there are so many people i know personally that are disabled, have chronic pain, have mobility issues, and can’t sit. or walk miles and miles a day. one of my coworkers recently quit because she tore both rotator cuffs in her shoulders from this job. this job disables you. it kills you. (just look up how many people have died on the job due to negligence. it is not a small amount.)

even the prices are fake. sales are fake. rollback is fake. i notice how things are priced and they rarely change, even when they say they’re on sale. it’s a scam. you are being scammed.

we are overworked and underpaid for our labor. (speaking of, wages used to be higher by several dollars a couple years ago. they lowered them. my department paid 20 an hour. it only pays 16 now. almost all other departments are at a flat 14. it used to be 16.)

wage theft, lack of breaks, overtime violations, lack of sick leave, chronic understaffing and chronic abuse from management, not terminating employees that sexually harass coworkers, and piles and piles and piles of responsibilities. all of this is to say, walmart only operates because of how much they exploit their workers, and it’s in the top of the Fortune 500 list. it is impossibly dire. and it is in EVERY SINGLE store, because that is just how the work culture operates.

all salaried management is also given guides on union busting. unionization is impossible. there was one store that they completely shut down because of successful unionization efforts, laying off hundreds of people, and blamed it on “faulty plumbing.”

one last thing - if you are assaulted by a customer, you cannot defend yourself. nobody can help you, because none of us are allowed to put our hands in any capacity on a customer. if you are assaulted, you have no choice but to run and hide. I’ve heard of a worker at my store that was assaulted repeatedly over several days from people who would come in and beat her. they weren’t banned, and she was fired for fighting back. if you fight back, you’re fired immediately, no exceptions.

all of this is to say shop elsewhere. buy locally. buy at other stores. you will get better quality items and produce literally ANYWHERE else. if you can’t, be kind to Walmart workers. theres abuse at every step of the chain. even on the supply side. walmart is a corporate dystopian monster that only makes its money off of intense labor violations.

tl;dr don’t shop at walmart. it’s not worth it

[dinogoofymutated]

Hello, I love your writing!! And the Kurt taking care of an overworked lover really melted my heart 🫠💕 could I ask for a similar prompt with Logan? He's my #1 X Men man. If this ptompt is too specific no worries, feel free to make it work within your own parameters- but I live with chronic pain/illness, so maybe it could be someone with a condition that flairing up and they refuse to rest/ask for help, making things worse, and Logan finally steps in, maybe scoops them up in his big arms and lovingly forces them to take a break? Logan has such a big protective heart under all his gruffness, and I think we need to see more of it in the Fandom.

💖 Love and Bless You 💖

Wolverine/GN!Reader UGH I love this request!! I hope it's okay that i didn't write about a specific illness, but describe a general chronic pain/mobility difficulty due to it. I need to write soft logan like this more often UGH- also, I was picturing the flirty Logan from Wolverine and the X-men here. He's infected my brain and I need more versions of him like that lol. TWS: Chronic pain/illness. flareups.

If there's one thing anyone knows about Logan, it's that's he's crazy observant, especially with that sniffer of his.

Sure me might not be able to smell when you're in pain, but I 100% thing that he just -knows- when something is off. It's like a sixth sense. Like you move in a particular way or eat your "fuck I hurt" food and he's on you like a goddamn bloodhound.

It doesn't matter how much you protest, or how much you fight him on it, he's not willing to budge when it comes to letting you rest- and if he can sneak in a few extra cuddles, or more time in bed with you, it's just a perk.

    Today has been a rough day since you woke up, and you knew it would most likely get worse. 

    You were having a bit of a flare-up. Well, you say a bit, in all actuality, it was an uphill battle from here. There was just something off the moment you woke up. Your joints were stiff and painful, everyday actions became a chore, and you were hurting much more than normal. But, if there was one thing about you everyone knew, it was that you were certainly stubborn. 

    You’re in the kitchen currently, resting at the table after popping a batch of cookies in the oven. Jubilee had been begging you to make her some sweet treats, and with her coming home from a rather long mission tomorrow, you decided to surprise her. Your body’s timing was… unfortunate, but there was no stopping you now. You were exhausted after making the dough, and rolling it into balls. After you had popped them in the oven you had painstakingly walked to the fridge to put the rest of the dough inside, muscles protesting each and every step. You had collapsed into the nearest chair, leaning your head back with a sigh, which is where you are now. You let your eyes drift closed as you wait for the timer to go off, relaxing into the seat.

    “Hey~” You jump at the sound of the voice, opening your eyes to see a smirking Logan, his arms draped across the back of your chair. You let out a huff, smiling at him. 

    “Hi Logan.” You say sweetly. One of his hands reaches down to run through your hair, and you feel like a cat as you eagerly lean into the touch.

    “How are you feeling?” He asks. You hum, grimacing at the question.

    “Fine?” You respond, an unsure tilt in your voice. Logan raises an eyebrow at you.

    “Don't bullshit me, sweetheart. I know somethings off.” Logan rumbles. You make a face, sitting up from the chair as normally as you can as the timer for the cookies goes off.

    “It's just a minor flare-up. It's fine, I'm fine. I have to finish baking these cookies for tomorrow anyway, so I don't really have a choice.” You say. If he sees the way you stumble a little, he doesn’t comment on it. Logan watches as you take a moment before you open the oven, resting against the counter. You realize that you may have gotten up from the chair just a little too fast as stars spot your eyes. After a minute of rest, hyper-aware of Logan’s eyes on you, you go for it. You barely crack the oven door open before Logan grabs you by the waist.

    “Alright, that's enough.” He says. You yelp as Logan drags you away from the oven. He takes the cookies out quickly before he turns around and immediately throws you over his shoulder. Your yelp is more of a screech this time.

    “Logan! Let me go- what are you doing?!” 

    “I'm not gonna stand back and watch you do this to yourself. I'm taking you to bed.” Logan huffs. He’s already walking you out of the kitchen and into the other parts of the mansion as you hit your palms against his back, trying to convince him to put you down.

    “But- I- the cookies!” You cry out. Logan has already gotten to your door opening it as he carries you inside.

    “I got it. Now just- relax.” He says, plopping you down on the bed. The action has you a little dizzy, and Logan leans in to kiss you on the forehead before he tucks you under the covers. 

    “I'm going to go get you some water and vitamins. Stay. Here.” You don’t have time to protest before he’s gone, having shut the door behind him. You want to get up and chase after him, tell him that you don’t need any special treatment and that you were fine on your own, but you’re not sure you can really run right now- and the comfort and warmth of your bed and covers are calling you like a goddamn siren song. 

    You drift in and out of consciousness in bed until Logan is back, with a glass of water and vitamins as promised. He hands you a flintstone gummy as he sits on the bed, and you can’t help but snicker. Logan rolls his eyes, still having delivered vitamins as promised.

    “What did you do about the cookies?” You ask as Logan peels back the covers to lie in the bed with you. He pulls you close as he settles in, rubbing his hands soothingly across the parts of you he knows tend to ache the most. 

    “I put a new batch in the oven. I’ll smell them when they’re ready.” He says. You roll your eyes at him, resting your head against his chest. 

    “Thank you, you know. Not just for the cookies, but… for caring.” You whisper. He huffs a laugh, leaning down to kiss you on the lips this time.

    “You don’t have to thank me, sweetheart. Just rest.”

[divinegrey]

𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧 / 𝐜𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐲𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

hi folks! it's good to be back and stretching my writing legs again. starting off with a caitlyn prompt! this could be read as a stand-alone or as a continuation of another caitlyn fic, broken pillars.

prompt: heyya! i'm absolutely in love with caitlyn AND your writing, so i was hoping we could combine the two :DD maybe something along the lines of cait x reader, a continuation of "broken pillars"? reader was injured in the blast, and Cait helps them/her (whatever you prefer) recover. maybe reader sees how much ambessa is manipulating her, and they end up getting into a fight over what's right?

words: 1162

warnings: mentions of violence, light angst, happy ending

“Caitlyn, this crusade is only going to end in more violence. You can’t possibly not see that!”

The Kiramman library has become something more of a battleground, in recent days. You were finally discharged from the hospital after extensive care to the leg you lost in what has been dubbed one of the worst terrorist incidents of Piltover’s history. And in those days since you’ve been home, you’ve become privy to every single thing that happened, everything that Caitlyn went through in her attempt to find Silco. 

Now Silco’s dead, and the whole of Zaun is in disarray. It only took one woman stepping in at the right time for Piltover to begin mobilizing; Ambessa Medarda. 

“It will be necessary for the safety of Piltover, our safety that we find Jinx and put her into Stillwater. She cannot be allowed to remain free for what she did to you,” Caitlyn says, standing at all too far a distance from you. She’s unreachable, has felt utterly unreachable ever since the explosion. Between tending to you, you know the gaps of time when she wasn’t at the hospital was spent sitting beside the famed warlord of Noxus. 

You’ve seen the change happen before your very eyes. It makes you scared. 

Pushing your hands on the wheels of your chair closer, you try again. “Cait, please, just listen to yourself. You’re suggesting arming an entire battalion of Enforcers and leading them into Zaun will fix the problem. You tried the strike team, it didn’t work the way you wanted it to, but that doesn’t mean—” 

“Until Jinx is behind bars, we are not safe.” Caitlyn’s stare is steely, but therein lies the exhaustion found in the bags of her eyes. Neither of you have been sleeping all too well; she comes into bed late at night when you’ve tired yourself out trying to stay up, and she rises before you have a chance to kiss her good morning. Caitlyn turns, hands on her hips. “You are not safe. I cannot stand for it.” 

“So, what? You slap a gun into every willing hand and shoot every Zaunite that gets in the way?” You sigh, leaning back against the cushion with a sigh. “And you’re fine with that? I know you, you’re smarter than this.” You wheel yourself closer to her side, taking her hand. “I know that this has left you distraught. Your mother in a coma, me in a wheelchair, but we are both still here, Caitlyn. An eye for an eye. You took Silco out, the Undercity is in chaos. People down there are scared. The Caitlyn I know and love wouldn’t be putting together weapons; she would be putting together aid, a plan to unite Zaun peacefully as possible.” 

Caitlyn doesn’t look at you. Rather, the fire that burns in the library hearth, the flames reflected and dancing in her eyes. She squeezes your hand, the callouses from shooting for so many years evident on her fingertips. Her throat bobs with a swallow. 

“It makes me scared, Cait. To know that Ambessa is saying these things into your ear and it feels like I can’t even get through to you,” you start, rubbing your thumb over her knuckles. “I’ve been friends with Mel long enough to get a sense of what her mother is like, I’ve studied enough politics to know what Noxus prioritizes. Strength and power. They see that in Hextech. That is all they want. They don’t care if they have to start a war to get it, because that is what they’re good at.” 

Caitlyn blinks, and for the first time in days, you see a tear fall from her eyes. Her chest rises with a heavy breath. “I failed to keep you safe. I had an opportunity to pull the trigger on Jinx. Vi, she— she weakened me. I wanted so badly to believe there was a way to end all of this with everyone alive, and the cost of believing that was nearly losing you and my mother.” A small scoff. “If my mother will ever wake up.” 

“Look at me.” You tug on her arm, and only then does she turn to you. You make a gesture for her to sit down on an armchair and she follows, slumping with an exhaustion you both feel in your bones. You take your hands and hold them tightly. “You can’t burden yourself with every ounce of responsibility, Caitlyn. You are one of the strongest people I know, but even you will crack under that pressure. Please, just give yourself some more time, give Mel and I some more time to try and put together a plan. The Council is angry. Ambessa has power enough as it is, but what she sees in you is someone to exploit. Grief is a powerful motivator; all I ask is that you don’t let it motivate you into something you’ll regret.” 

If it weren’t for you holding her hands, you might not have noticed the shake in her fingers. You know your girlfriend well enough to understand that the shaking only comes when the stress has built up so much that it reaches her hands; a sharpshooter can’t risk shaking hands when they need to take the shot. With something of a forlorn smile, you bend your head, trying to catch her eyes. 

“Love, I promise, you didn’t fail me. Nor your mother. I’m still here, and I still love you so, very deeply with everything I have in my heart. So please, if there is any guilt or grief you carry about me, drop it. Because I am with you, until the end of time,” you say, pouring every ounce of devotion that you possibly can into your words. What you see in turn is the exterior of Caitlyn’s armor cracking, the tears falling, and you cup her face within your hands, bringing her eyes to yours. “I love you, Caitlyn Kiramman.” 

Her hands hold your wrists tight; it’ll take time for her to lay down her guilt, and you’re happy to stand beside her in the meantime. You kiss her, soft and tender, the salt from her tears on your lips but you couldn’t care less. You survived death and lost a leg, a grief that will settle, but you count your blessings where you can find them. Your family is still alive, Caitlyn is still alive, and her parents are still alive. 

It will have to be enough. 

“I love you,” Caitlyn whispers into your mouth. “I’m so sorry.” 

“Your heart is safe with me, and mine with yours. There is a light at the end of this tunnel; we need only find it, okay?” You stroke her cheekbone with your thumb, wiping away the tears as they come. She nods, resting her forehead against yours. 

Only time will tell of what happens to Piltover and Zaun, but you breathe easier, knowing you have your partner at your side. 

~~~~~

A/N: thank you for reading! anon, i hope this was what you wanted!

[dailyadventureprompts]

DM Tip: Lining up the Pieces

A few years ago I saw a video that changed the way I design combat encounters, using chess pieces and 4th edition monster roles as a handy way of conceptualizing the enemy roster and making better combat.

I’ve wanted to refer back to it for ages now, but I can’t seem to find it.  As such, I’m going to reproduce it’s wisdom here for everyone’s benefit and hope I can find the source one day.  ( I feel like it was a Matt Coville video, but my searches have turned up nothing. Seriously, if you can find it I will be extra grateful).

TLDR:  You can break down enemy combatants into six (ish) roles represented by different kinds of chess pieces, and you can mix and match them when designing encounter to create fun tactical scenarios. You can also use this as an alternative to CR picking a “budget” of these enemy roles based on how many players are in the fight.  Check out the types below the cut: 

Infantry (pawn):   Generally weaker and mechanically simpler than any other type of combatant, the infantry uses teamwork or sheer numbers to overwhelm the party. This can be anything from rank and file soldiers to a necromancer’s skeletal minions to a pack of wolves, anything that takes up space on the battlefield and prevents the party from targeting who they want or generally getting their way in a fight. 5e combat is a numbers game, and the infantry is there to swing the numbers in the enemy’s favour (until the party cut through them to even the odds).  Infantry likes battlemaps with chokepoints they can hold and crossroads they can use to outflank opponents. When budgeting they’ll have a balance of 2 infantry per 1 player they’re matched against , but the weaker they are, the thinner you can spread them.

Brute (rook): High defence, high offence, the brute is an outright threat that the party should not want to take in a head to head fight. Giants, beasts, constructs, and heavy armoured warriors are your traditional brutes, but you could also go with a buffed to hell battlemage getting all up in the party’s face. Conversely, every brute has some kind of weakness that the party can exploit. They might be slow, or be unable to maneuver as easily, or like a werewolf, fiend, or troll, have particular weapons or damage types that overcome their natural resilience. Their job is to force confrontation, blunder into the middle of combat and force the party to act defensively rather than proactively. They soak up the party’s frontline’s attention while forcing the mid/backlines to scatter under the threat of too much raw damage.  The brute Likes open spaces where they can have a direct path to the party and dead ends they can corner their targets against. Budget: Around 1 per 3 players

Skirmisher (knight):  A very broad type of opponent, the skirmisher’s job is to bully  the party’s weapsots whenever they’re exposed. They can do this by being ranged fighters ( traditional archers, magic users) or by being highly mobile (stealthy, mounted, flying, teleporting). They’re the bane of the party’s backline, generally targeting whoever has the lowest armour/or least health, then using their evasiveness to deny any kind of retaliation when the group rallies to protect their squishy friends. Skirmishers have great offence but are generally pretty weak, made helpless when you can deny them their movement/terrain advantages.  Skirmishers like unfair fights, terrain that gives them a movement advantage, cover, or allows them the highground over their foes.  Budgeting: 1 per 1-2 players. 

Controller (bishop):  The controller’s job is to fuck with the party, Either by locking down some of their stronger options (counterspelling, mind control, status effects, grapples),  by manipulating the battlefield in some way that disrupts planning (aoe spells to prevent grouping together, summoning to reinforce numbers,  barriers and banishment to single targets out), Or by advancing the baddies’ goal while the party is otherwise occupied (the cult priest finishing the disastrous ritual, the master thief making off with the mcguffin) forcing them to split their attention. The controller likes to distinctly be away from combat, and will usually be on the otherside of some kind of hazardous/hard to bypass barrier, sometimes of their own making. Budgeting:  1 per 2-3  players: 

Support (king): Usually a healer, bodyguard, or some kind of buff-bot, the support wants to piggyback on other sorts of units or make them better at doing their jobs. Generally this means they’ll ignore whatever the party is doing to focus on staying with effective range of those who most benefit from their abilities. Supports will stay back in safety while throwing out buffs, bodyguards will put themselves between the party and their designated defendee. They tend to prefer whatever type of terrain most benefits their partners. 1- 2-3 players

Elite (queen): Something to be reckoned with, an Elite mixies the strength and abilities of two other kinds of combatants and uses both to devastating effect. Combine a brute and a support for an unstoppable frontline commander, or infantry and a skirmisher for an elite striketeam that attacks in perfect coordination before fading back into the shadows.  Mix and match for whatever combination you think would be most interesting for a situation, then supplement it with a different unit or two for contrast.  Elites make up your traditional “big bad and minions” bossfight, without escalating to the full party challenge of “solo” monsters. Budgeting: 1 per 3-4 players. 

Picking the right Pieces:

Generally what you're going to want to do when planning a combat is to first think of what the baddies are trying to acomplish with the fight then pick 2-3 different types of baddie that you think would work well in concert to achieve that goal. "Kill the party" is an all too common goal, but you could easily imagine others that provide for dynamic stakes:

A group of forest bandits intend to rob a caravan, so they unleash a captive warbeast as a distraction while their archers rain chaos from above (Infantry, brute, skirmisher)

A villain abducts an important npc into a carriage while their dutiful muscle run interference (controller, brutes)

A necromancer hurls curses from behind a barricade of gravestones while their undead minions pour from surrounding tombs ( Controller/infantry)

While the party is ambushed by an archer in a tower, a cloaked figure waits in the underbrush, waiting for them to thin out and begin picking them off one by one (paired skirmishers of different types)

After the fighter is tricked into single combat against the mounted arena champion, the rest of the party will have to search the crowd for the caster secretly channeling healing magic to their opponent. ( combined brute/skirmisher elite, support)

Once you've got your pieces picked out, you can start designing the battle arena taking the desires of each combatant into account while also throwing in any environmental flourishes you'd like to enjoy.

As an added benefit for DMs like me who don't have the inclination or budget to collect huge batches of minis, it's SUPER easy to pick up a second hand chess set or two and use them as stand ins. Your players will have an instinctive understanding of what each piece does which will help them understand the roles outlined above.

Artsource

[northwest-by-a-train]

Real talk. It's been 9 months since I've seen Palestinian children bleeding to death every day of the week. I don't particularly seek it out, I don't revel in it, if I'm being fully honest, every time I see it cross my dash I feel the urge to close my eyes and keep it out of my mind. Just the description of what I've seen is too gory to write without my stomach churning. And I think I'm not alone in having seen that. I know some among you have seen worse. I know that even those of you who have not seen the worst of it have seen things that will haunt you for a lifetime.

Of course the right, US as well as international, will mobilize like crazy over this grazed ear and those two droplets of blood. But if we on the left are not motivated, are not radicalized, are not incensed to act decisively after having seen this. And the fascists wackos are more motivated with these remarkably clean images of violence. Then we are doing something wrong.

The moral high ground, the revulsion at blood, at crass disregard for human dignity, at targetting the innocent is on our side. And acting like this will galvanize our enemies while we'll stand helpless is baby shit. We must use every means at our disposal to stop the violence in Palestine and defeat the fascism that around the world makes cover for genocide. This is not a moment to fall to the ground and cry, this is a moment to fight for those who need it most.

[red-riding-wood]

PSA - Community Predator

Over a series of months, myself and other Tumblr users -- fic writers, gif makers, fans of created content -- have been victimised by @mrkdvidal1989, who has extensively lied about who he is, preyed on multiple women and denied involvement -- therefore ruining friendships, reputations and feelings, and promised me life-saving medical treatment that he never followed through on.

More information including mine and their stories under the cut.

The reason I am going public with this is twofold:

A) To protect others from being hurt. He is known to reach out to many tumblr users, especially young women in the Cillian Murphy fandom -- but he may have a wider reach beyond this circle. B) Since his "disappearance" three weeks ago and the unravelling of his lies, this man has ruined my life and the only hope I had of obtaining treatment for a condition that has been plaguing me for four years.

Killian Vidal is the name he has chosen to give us, and has claimed to be both a officer commander and general in the mobility troop in the SAS (the general rank does not even exist), has beaten cancer a while ago (but said to another mutual that his "time was running out" and he is currently struggling with it), and a plethora of other life experiences and general knowledge about him that varies in consistency when talking to different people and is questionable in its validity. He has also shared pictures of "himself" that when reverse image searched, belong to different people.

I got to know Kill when he reblogged one of my fanfics (as the story seems to start with a lot of his victims) and he reached out via DMs. We quickly became close friends who called nearly every day on Discord and when I told him about my health issues, he immediately offered to pay for my medical treatment wherever I could find willing doctors.

I was hesitant to believe this at first since all of this seemed too good to be true (and was). He claimed to be very wealthy, enough to afford private jets like it was nothing and to rent me an apartment in the UK in the same building as him. Over time, I grew to trust him because he felt like such a genuine person and friend, which was made all the more believable by the fact that he has such a huge following on Tumblr and was, at the time, part of a vast social network of fans and friends (one of which he even claimed to know IRL -- who will remain anonymous unless they decide to speak out). I decided to ignore the little red flags because I was so desperate to receive this treatment that for me would be life-saving.

For four years, I have been plagued by an array of (mostly) undiagnosed digestive issues that have made my life almost unbearable and have on numerous occasions nearly killed me due to malnutrition. I've spent months in hospital, endured years of malpractice and misdiagnoses, undergone heart surgery, and have tried absolutely everything I can to get better. In the winter of 2023, I was told by my doctor that I was refused in the TPN program (a treatment that may have slowed or stopped my weight loss) and that with or without it, I was looking at mortality. Refusing to stop fighting but having exhausted the public health care system in Canada, I went into 2024 not really having much hope of anything anymore.

So, when Kill came along, that changed. He promised -- and I mean, from the bottom of his heart, promised -- that he would help me get treatment, that he would get me out of my abusive home and fly me to the UK, that he would be there for me as my friend, etc. I was beyond grateful, and as my trust with him built, so did my hope.

The travel plans kept getting put off; originally, he would fly me out as soon as the apartment became available, which was the 11th of Feb, 2024. He kept finding excuses to not book the jet. Finally, it seemed as if around the 15th/16th I would be flying. My health had been declining rapidly and the situation was becoming all the more urgent, and he said he was in contact with a pilot and would send the ticket soon and call me.

That was the last I heard from him. The 16th.

Initially thinking he had ended his life (he had discussed thoughts of suicide with me prior to this), I was beside myself with worry not only thinking one of my closest friends was gone but also that my chance at life was. I reached out to his other friends, and I made several calls to the UK authorities and emergency services and ended up requesting a welfare check be made to see if he was even alive.

They reported that no one under the name Killian Vidal was in the records of the building name he gave me -- the same building that I was meant to live in within that week.

After reaching out to my now beloved friend @kittenonpluto (A.K.A., Cas) on Tumblr, I learned that Kill was in fact alive, and had told her that he was in hospital for digestive issues in Indianopolis, United States (though again, no record of his name in their medical system). He still wouldn't talk to me, but told her to tell me that he would reach out when he was out of hospital.

Cas and I compared information he'd told us (her story will be attached to this post) and looked into the mystery more. He constantly dodged confrontation and questions about the fake photos and information he'd sent her, and seemed to use his completely fabricated hospitalisation as an excuse to not fulfil his promises to myself and her, as well as a means to garner sympathy.

It was quite obvious that he didn't know how the American medical system worked, and he even incorporated elements of my actual story and used them in his. When asked about his treatments, he responded with medically false information. He reported digestive issues, reflux, and having both an NG tube and TPN -- both of which I have experience with -- and let me say, I am beyond disgusted and infuriated that my real life trauma was used as a ploy in all this.

How do we know for a fact this is false? I checked the police case for his welfare check again, and they said that they confirmed him being in the UK at the same time he had told Cas he was in hospital in the States.

After a final confrontation from both Cas and myself (and a desperate final plea for the medical aid he promised me), he was never heard from again from either of us or our friend circles.

I'm now having to pick up the pieces he's left me in and to be honest, I have little to no idea of what the hell to do or how to save myself. The fact that he strung me along for a month and built up my hope that I was going to live only to abandon me without even a word is deplorable to me.

And mine isn't the only story. I've heard from four women on Tumblr (who, again, will remain anonymous unless they choose to speak out) who he has been romantic or sexually involved with (and lied about his involvement, made them out to seem insane or toxic, created rifts in our friendships, toyed with their emotions, and made false promises to of relationships, marriage, and finances).

And that's not including the ex-wife who came back to Tumblr to claim that her and Kill had never met nor married. She was promptly silenced by a "lawyer threat" that we have strong reason to believe was a bluff.

At the end of the day, there are so many lies, half-truths, inconsistencies, etc. this man has wrapped himself in and we don't know for the life of us what his motives are, but from the information that we do know is false, he isn't genuine. He toys with people. He hurts them. Myself and the others that have been affected by this want that to stop.

And at any point, he has the ability to make a new account, and take on a new persona, pretend to be someone else. Tumblr is a wonderful place and I have met so many cool people on here, but please be careful about who you interact with and what you share, because aside from making this post, it is beyond my power to stop him from doing what he does. But after what he did to me, I could not remain silent.

Other Stories

If you have an experience or story with Killian that you would like heard, please reblog it on this thread or make a post. With your consent, I can include a link to it below.

kittenonpluto's story

aurorag98's story

everyoneisawhore's story

your-nanas-house's story

hllywdwhre's story

Final Note

Lastly, if you have read this far, thank you.

If you want to reach out to me about this issue -- whether it's to anonymously share your experience, ask questions, ask for evidence (of which I can back up these statements with), or anything at all --, please do not hesitate to do so. <3

For those who may be worried about the potential legality of this post, everything that I have stated as fact is fact and it is not my intention to slander or spread false information.

[sacredsorceress]

Confessions || Peter Quill

pairing: peter quill x reader

summary: you admit to peter how you feel second to his and gamora’s relationship and receive the love declaration of your life

a/n: this is my first time writing for peter and writing in general in a while so pls bear with me! i’m also on vacation rn so this is not proofread at all and i can’t get the word count because I’m on mobile but it’s a blurb!

warnings: gotg spoilers?? angst, fluff, mentions of death, self consciousness, jealousy, arguments

masterlist

You would have been lying if you said you didn’t feel second to Gamora.

When you met Peter Quill on the battleground in your fight against Thanos, his wounds were still fresh. Too fresh. The woman that he had loved had died less than a day before for him, and the presence of another version of her did nothing but prolong the sting.

Though, in the two years since you had met, your relationship had slowly evolved from that of friendship and blossomed into an all consuming love.

It was hard not to lose yourself in it. He was funny, optimistic to a fault, oh-so kind… you could barely hold your head above the water.

Most of the time.

Despite all of that, there remained moments where you reminded yourself of the fact that if matters were different, he’d choose her over you every time. Those thoughts came out of nowhere but when they did- the idea of him holding her the same way he did you, laughing at her jokes the way he did yours- they ate away at you. But, you’d shake them away, close your eyes and find yourself lulling yourself back to sleep in Peter’s arms.

Your feelings, however, were bound to boil over at some point.

You don’t even remember how you found yourself in this fight with Peter, but you were deep into it, shouting at each other as you paced throughout the ship when you said the one sentence that stopped Peter in his tracks.

“I’m sorry I’m not her!”

It was as if the air in the room changed. The tough facade that Peter had been displaying deflated in front of your eyes, your hands balled into fists at your sides and you felt a stinging sensation at the corner of your eyes that hadn’t been there early.

You and Peter had talked about Gamora of course. You had listened to his stories and comforted him during rough nights, but what you had never done was share how you felt as though you were living in her shadow.

He pulled away from you as he furrowed his eyebrows.

“What does that mean?”

It was too late to turn back now.

“It means I’m tired of being your second choice, Peter.” You sighed. “It’s just that… I just love you, Quill. I love you so, so much. But I feel like I’m just this placeholder for her. You spent so long chasing that other version of Gamora when I was here this whole time. And I know its hard, and I know it wasn’t easy, but sometimes I just feel that… that you… that you wish I was her and I just want you to love me, Peter.”

You felt yourself let out a breath you hadn’t even realized that you were holding in and watched as Peter’s face softened.

He hesitantly moved from where he stood and took a step closer to you. When you didn’t step away, Peter stretched his hands out to meet you and laid his palms against your arms.

“How long have you felt this way?”

You avoided his eyes.

“Always.”

It’s like you could see the pang in chest.

You watched him swallow and squeeze his eyes shut.

“Y/n, I will tell you this as many times as you need to hear it,” Peter gripped your arms and met your eyes. “I love you. I love you so fucking much it eats me alive, I swear. And I did love Gamora. I can’t lie about that and I won’t. But that’s in the past, babe. I love you. You’re it for me.”

“Peter,”

“No. Shh.” He cut you off. “Let me give you the most epic, romantic love confession of all time, okay?”

You nodded your head and laughed, wiping away the tears that were threatening to spill at the corners of your eyes.

“Okay.”

His hands left your arms as he tugged at his hair and waved them around animatedly.

“Okay good because I love you.” He said. “And not to brag but it’s definitely more than you love me. I let it slide when you call Rocket the captain. I take the blame for you when I know you ate the last of Drax’s Zarg Nuts. I pretend like I don’t hear you telling Mantis every detail of our s-”

“Pete-”

“And I do that because I love you, definitely not because it boosts my ego at all.” Peter stepped back towards you and placed his hands in yours, squeezing them tightly. “And I’m so glad that you have such sick powers that are way cooler than anything I can do because that means that… that uh… wow I didn’t think I’d get so tripped up on this.”

The confidence that he had moments ago faltered.

“We both know it means that I’ll die first and thank god honestly because I can’t imagine living without you.”

A silence hung in the air as you both stood in shock. Him, at having admitted it. And you, having learned it for the first time.

“So, yeah.” Peter finished. “I love you. A lot.”

Your right hand slipped out of Peter’s and instead cupped his face in the palm of your hand. Your thumb rubbed against his scruff as your finger tips brushed his hair ever so slightly.

“I can’t imagine living without you either.” You said. “I love you so much. I’m sorry, Pete.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck while his slid around your waist, both of you gripping the other as if your life depended on it.

“Not to be cheesy, but you’re the one for me, okay?” He said. “The only one.”

You smiled, holding him to you tighter.

“You’re the one for me too, Peter.” You sighed. “I love you.”

The two of you stood like that, at peace in the other’s arms for a good while, soaking in the overwhelming love that you both felt. Until-

“You ate my Zarg Nuts?” Drax asked.

“Oh my go-”

“Jesus Christ, man!”

[mothhball]

Hiii! Your writing for Neil is so fantastic thank you for your service <3 📼 could you maybe write one with Neil and reader Pool hopping in the summer and they have to make a run for it so they’re not caught? (Maaaybe forced proximity, friends to lovers or established relationship, some fluff, some smut.. whatever your heart desires) have a safe train ride!!!

Pairing | Neil Lewis x fem!Reader

Warnings | sickly sweet fluff! brief smut, p in v sex, pool sex, friends to lovers, Neil and Reader are very silly

Summary | pool hopping and dramatics

Words | 2k

Notes | thanks for the request!! <33 I hope the formatting works, I'm posting on mobile

MINORS DNI

"I don't know, Nels..." you glance down at the water with a skeptical twitch of your eyebrow before you decide to dip your toe in. Immediately, you pull back.

"Gah! How is it this cold? I'm cooking out here!" Neil laughs at your complaints, wiping the sweat off his brow as he watches you with fond eyes. It's easy to forget that this pool isn't even yours. Neither is this property. But you went in the middle of the day on purpose, making sure that there was no car in the driveway and no one was home.

"You need to go in quickly, that'll make it easier. Come here, I'll help you," he offers, and at first glance, he seems helpful enough. Neil is presenting himself as deceptively harmless, but the mischievous glint in his eyes is enough to make you shake your head and take a step back. You know what he's planning. You've seen that expression countless times before, know every detail of his face as closely as your own. Yet neither of you has dared to cross that final line between platonic and... something more. Maybe you're both cowards. Always tip-toeing around the what ifs and not having the guts to give the thing between you a proper name. To any outsider, you might as well be dating already. It's just that the memo hasn't reached Neil nor yourself just yet.

"Don't you dare. Stay away from me." You try to fight against the grin that's growing on your face, but the rush of dopamine is too strong.

Neil slowly stalks towards you, opening his arms. "What? I'm not doing anything... don't be like that." He pretends to take offense to your hesitation, lips pulling down into a playfully dramatic frown as he creeps closer around the edge of the pool.

"You're going in."

Before either of you know it, he's chasing you around the backyard, bare feet sprinting over the grass. You're both laughing your heads off like idiots, trying hard to outsmart the other. Eventually though, Neil closes the distance, and he wraps his arms around your waist, squeezing you to keep you from escaping.

"Got you!"

Despite your half-hearted protests, he drags you back over to the edge of the pool, dipping you dangerously low towards the surface of the water.

"Any last words?" He teases, offering you one last chance at mercy as a triumphant smirk pulls at his lips. In that moment, you know you have to try and mess with him to wipe that expression off his face. You know he has strong opinions about anything regarding pop culture, so you just decide to go for it.

"Star Wars is better than Star Trek." Silence. Those are definitely fighting words, and you're able to witness how Neil's expression twists in real time. This is no longer just bantering. This is about honor now.

"I'm sure you didn't just say that. Take it back," he demands, narrowing his eyes at you. But you stay stubborn, shaking your head. A somber expression settles on your face, and there's a crackle of dramatic energy between the two of you.

"You may come out of this victorious, but at least I spoke my truth. And you will never take that from me."

Neil immediately picks up on your eccentricities, happily joining in. His tone becomes icy as he gets into character, playing the role of your summery executioner quite well.

"Your truth is wrong. You'd have to be blind to ignore the intricacies in the world-building and the far more fleshed-out character arcs and coherent storytelling," he hisses, giving your waist a little squeeze to drive his point home. You wheeze in response.

"Star Trek is far more rooted in scientific facts. Star Wars is for chicks with mask kinks. So take. It. Back." In a moment that couldn't be staged more perfectly than this, a breeze wafts through the backyard, tousling Neil's hair and driving a shiver up your spine.

"You're a fool, Neil. A fool," you murmur, glaring at him like he's committing the ultimate betrayal.

"Is it a sin to enjoy the whimsical nature of nonsensical physics? Is it a sin to witness man's creativity in scenarios that are absurd and stupid? Is it a sin to watch silly little men with silly little helmets?"

You look off into the distance, pausing for dramatic effect.

"If that's the case, then I accept my punishment."

"Then your punishment shall be the pit." With that, he lets go of you, causing you to plunge into the pool below in a scene that would truly be Oscar-worthy. The cool water surrounds you, but the warmth in your chest remains. Neil was right. It really is easier to go in fast and all at once. You’ve been hesitating for far too long, denying yourself relief and enjoyment.

A push. That's all what was missing.

Neil jumps in right after you, bringing you back up to the surface with his gentle hands on your skin as he holds you up bridal-style. Of course, he's still in character.

"Oh God... what have I done... talk to me. Talk to me, damnit!"

You try to stay as limp as possible, but it only takes a moment for the both of you to start laughing again. Your heart hasn’t felt this light in a long, long time. But with Neil, it might as well be soaring up into the cloudless sky.

"We're so stupid," you manage to get out between giggles, and Neil just shrugs in response, looking down at you with a grin so bright that he could pass off as your own personal sun.

"Maybe. But there's no one else I'd rather be stupid with."

You're not sure if he knows what kind of impact his words have on you, and as you look up at him to meet his eyes, a moment of silence settles over the two of you. Both of you just study each other for a while. Curious, as if you've only met for the first time, and your heart wanders further up into your throat with every passing second.

Neil breaks the spell first, swallowing heavily, and a drop of water falls from his hair to land right on your cheek where his gentle thumb wipes it away.

"You make me nervous."

You blink in response, not sure how to take this comment, but he's generous enough to continue and elaborate.

"I never know how to act around you... I... I love being around you, but God, my self-control is being tested every time we hang out," he confesses, and you spot the hint of a lovely pink on his cheeks. Is this the part where you get your hopes up?

"Maybe you shouldn't hold yourself back from... doing whatever it is that you want to do? Maybe... maybe doing it would be a good thing?" You test the waters, and to your delight, Neil leans down to rest his forehead against yours, his voice lowering to a soft murmur.

"Yeah?"

“Yeah. Just… take the plunge, Neil.”

He nods at your words. Slowly, thoughtfully. And he bites his lip, studying the way the light hits your eyes. Eyes that he could get lost in for hours on end. The last distance between the two of you closes almost by itself, and pretty quickly, you are locked in a kiss that’s almost as heated as the sun that’s blasting down on you. Neil still has you in his arms, touching and feeling you with the desperation of a man that has been deprived of the thing he’s been wanting for years. Which would be nothing but the truth.

Your shaking hands are tangled in his dripping hair, gently tugging at his scalp which causes him to groan against your tongue and pull you over to press you up against the edge of the pool. The water splashes around you, and your nose is filled with the scent of chlorine and the sunscreen that you forced on Neil earlier. Stubborn idiot. But as it turns out, he’s now your stubborn idiot. For a blissfully long moment, you get to make out with him, and your world shrinks down in size, encompassing just the two of you. His heaving chest against yours, his skin beneath your fingers, and his hands that reach under your knees and hold you up against his body.

A soft moan slips from your lips as he dares to pull your bikini bottoms to the side to slip his dick inside of you. And fuck, does it feel right. You should’ve done this ages ago, but now, the reward feels even sweeter. Neil whispers your name against your throat, setting an impatient pace of thrusts as he fucks into your fluttering pussy, and you hold onto him with your nails slightly digging into his back. It’s easy to forget that he was just your friend a few minutes ago. Just as easy as it is to miss the noise of a car pulling into the driveway. The driveway that belongs to the property. The property that you’re trespassing on. Neil perks up at the sound of a door slamming shut, and he curses under his breath.

“Fuck – hold your breath.”

You barely get the chance to fill your lungs with precious oxygen before he dives beneath the pool’s surface with you in his arms. Just in time before the owner of the house steps outside to check out the backyard. From his angle, you’re just barely obscured and distorted by the water. An optical illusion that, if explained, would surely have someone clutching their pearls. The homeowner pauses on the patio for a minute, and in the meantime, Neil is getting impatient. You can feel him throbbing inside of you, sneakily rocking his hips against yours in a tiny motion that’s enough to make your toes curl. In response, you tug on his hair, causing him to still once more. Your lungs are burning, and you clench your eyes shut, praying that the guy whose pool you’re “borrowing” just leaves already.

And, in a twist of sweet, sweet fate, he does. There’s a brief reflection of light as the glass sliding door to the living room of the house opens and closes once more, and Neil slowly pops his head up before giving you the go as well. Immediately, you resurface, both gasping for air, but grinning from ear to ear. Neil is panting, giving your thighs a quick squeeze before he pulls away from you, putting you back down.

“We need to leave,” he gasps. “Right now.”

It’s a daring escape, and as much as you try to stay quiet, both Neil and yourself start to giggle while you’re still getting out of the pool. Someone – most definitely the owner of the property – shouts and curses after you while you scramble to grab your things, and you almost get caught as Neil helps you climb over the wooden fence before you manage to dash off, hand in hand.

He pulls you along, and you can hear your heartbeat drumming in your ears, along with the pitter patter of your bare feet down the street and your breathless laughter. The heat quickly dries your skin, and you’re still grinning brightly as you reach Neil’s car that he parked a few streets away. Finally, finally, the two of you manage to catch your breath, and he reaches out to smooth his thumb over your jaw. A silent gesture of affection that he’s done a thousand times. But now, the context is a different one. For a moment, Neil is lost in your smile and your eyes, before he manages to catch himself, remembering how to speak.

“You know… we’re partners in crime now. Can I count on you to keep this between us?”

A breathy laugh is your answer, and now it’s your turn to bite your lip.

“I’m sure we can think of a few ways to keep each other’s mouths shut.”

@ellebelleshelby @cilliansprincess @mcumorningstar @x0xomady @mandies24

@detroitbecomevenom @pretty-bluebird @ink5ouls @flwrs4aust @vampmary1411

@ashdrinksoatmilk @luvizuku @nnattu @ptolemaniac @kiss-me-cill-me @celebrities-imagines @hanawrites404 @red-riding-wood

[okerum]

throughout the short duration of my maze runner hyperfix i would write down random thoughts/headcanons i had about them so i'll just copy-paste all of them here

- newt is crazy ticklish but he gets so irritated when someone tickles him. minho does not care

- newt cant sleep in the same room as thomas because thomas snores crazy loud and newt is a v light sleeper

- thomas has a really bad habit of chewing on his fingernails

- once newt got over them kidnapping thomas, he got along really well with group b. and they loved him too (ik him and sonya r siblings but him and harriet would be such good friends. see the vision)

- newt loves reading. i think classics would be his faves

- also good omens

- also he likes mythology

- he probably needs glasses though

- thomas and minho would probably play roblox together and like. bully kids. sometimes brenda will tag along too (shes the meanest but she also thinks roblox is dumb so she goes on it less)

- minho is a total sweat when it comes to gaming

- old grandma newt

- minho and newt would be roomates

- ocd newt maybe

- thomas has SEVERE depersonalization problems

- i can picture newt dancing as a sort of outlet. not sure what kind but just in general

- minho has AT LEAST one skirt

- newt braids his hair ‼️‼️

- thomas and newt and teresa and sonya are all autistic

- also all trans

- plus brenda

- who is also a butch lesbian

- newt is lefthanded

- thomas is the kid with the peanut allergy

- NEWT NONBINARY! THEY/HE!!!!

- do i eveb have to say t4t newtmas...

- teresa is a big swiftie

- newt would like shoujo animes

- minho would like shounen animes

- none of the main 3 can dress themselves and they look like shit usually

- newt doesnt get flustered like at all but THOMAS .... he goes red at any compliment from his crushes

- minho and thomas wrestling lmfaooo

- theyve probably broken several fhings in the process. including walls

- minho badly mocks newt's accent and he HATES it

- newt probably lets minho get away with a lot of things that he doesnt let anyone else get away with though because hes just used to it atp

- thomas is jealous because newt gives him a good scolding (affectionate) whenever he pisses him off. if hes particularly upset, newt will just ignore him for a few hours which is so hard for thomas

- newt has a lot of self-soothing behaviors but he rocks (like, rocking back and forth) a lot

- hes mega autistic look hes either minimum eye contact or intense uninterrupted eye contact and he hates being touched unless hes warned

- also the whole routines/order/rules thing he has going on especially in the glade

- AUTISTIC

- newt's prolly one of those film nerds

- never watched it but he'd be the type to love brokeback mountain

- thomas is a chronic flannel wearer

- oh also forgot its not a given but newt has chronic pain and a mobility aid

- puerto rican thomas...

- hes also demiromantic and demisexual

- thomas is also ticklish

- tickle fights perhaps....

- thomas fell asleep first once at a sleepover and minho drew all over him/fucked with him in his sleep and he never fell asleep before minho ever again

- the gladers probably smelled like shit

- 40 some adolescent-teen boys all alone no supervision doing physical labor all day every day.... 💀

- the older boys do it more but the younger ones need reminding

- runners probably bathe more often too

- esp in the movies when the box only comes up monthly + no visible building for showers??

- teresa came up and GAGGED

- spiderman newt + batman thomas

- newt probavly is prone to sunburns and he was SUFFERINGGG in the scorch. sonya too but she had it a lot easier w group b's circumstances

- half filipino teresa

- also hispanic brenda is that obvious or not

- newt is unexpectedly demanding in relationships he wants kisses all the time

- newt is a bland ass texter

- thomas just doesnt text. he'll facetime you any time u text him bc he doesnt wanna text

- sonya knows basically NO celebrities you'll go "you know chris pratt??" and she'll be like "who tf 💀" (the ones she does know are just the women she has a crush on)

- gally has probably called newt the f slur before but only because he didnt know the extent of how bad it was and (after a good punch and superduper miffed) newt tells him yhe history of it and he never did it again. he felt rlly bad too

- teresa 100% has a full fursona set up in her head

- she also probably silently assigns everyone else fursonas

- newt is a reptile owner

- minho likes dogs but hes also a terrible pet owner so he just goes over to thomas' place to play with his dog

- sonya watches video essays. shes one of those people that'll turn one on every time she sits and eats

- harriet and newt r besties btw

- sometimes newt gets a little nosy about what sonya wont tell him

- thomas has a rbf and intimidates everyone at first (though its usually not long before he makes a fool of himself and everyone realizes hes just a Guy)

- sonya is like newt's reality checker

- ouuugghhh flower shop/tattoo parlor sonya/harriet

- minho tiktok user x newt youtube shorts user x thomas instagram reels user

- gally has NO social media

- newt has a lowkey freakishly good memory

- sonya has a small collection of stuffed animals. she probably liked squishmallows when they were a thing, she collected them a little

- she has pet mice and she pampers them

- newt and sonya have hamster trauma

- the ENTIRE gang went to see barbie together and they all dressed up

- gally probably showed up not dressed up but sonya and newt planned it so they brought him an outfit and peer pressured him into changing into it at the theater

- it was probably a barbie fit (as punishment) while the rest of the guys were kens

- have i said newt and minho would be roomies or no

- minho and frypan have TOTAL brainrot humor and they bounce off each other (sometimes thomas participates. newt watches silently but judgementally)

- newt with eds on top of his chronic pain from his knee im sorry bro

- very musically inclined thomas versus musically incompetent newt

- minho calls newt hot nonchalantly / newt attempted b4 /ref

- feel like its also a given but newt and alby had a fling

- thomas infodumps on social media and minho just talks about himself

- newt is probably entirely caught up in some niche drama situation someone's posting about

- minho's tiktok fyp is convinced hes a gay man

- newt's is probably convinced hes a lesbian

- thomas just has like weird obscure humor that nobody (including him) understands

- sonya is chappel roan's #1 fan

- truth or dare with minho goes CRAZY

- harriet has a pet tarantula.... freaky little lesbian.....

- newt smoking to get relief from his chronic pain and anxiety and depression and trauma and

- minho probably discovered a long time ago that while newt will NEVER ask for it, he sleeps better with physical contact. so he holds his hand silently and without acknowledging it

- passenger princess thomas lmfaoaoooofofotitu

- ivy trio plays horror games like phasmophobia and lethal company. thomas always dies first and newt is the only one actually playing the game

- rip newt you wouldve loved being inside while it rains and reading a good book

- he'd also be really good at romanticizing the midwest

-END-

okay thats all. a few edits were made so its coherent/fits my current views of the characters more but its 98% raw from my notes app. just a peek into my twisted mind 😈😈😈

[mariacallous]

MYKOLAIV, UKRAINE—Kateryna Nahorna is getting ready to find trouble.

Part of an all-female team of dog handlers, the 22-year-old is training Ukraine’s technical survey dogs—Belgian Malinois that have learned to sniff out explosives.

The job is huge. Ukraine is now estimated to be the most heavily mined country on Earth. Deminers must survey every area that saw sustained fighting for unexploded mines, missiles, artillery shells, bombs, and a host of other ordnance—almost 25 percent of the country, according to government estimates.

The dogs can cover 1,500 square meters a day. In contrast, human deminers cover 10 square meters a day on average—by quickly narrowing down the areas that manual deminers will need to tackle, the dogs save valuable time.

“This job allows me to be a warrior for my country … but without having to kill anyone,” said Nahorna. “Our men protect us at war, and we do this to protect them at home.”

A highly practical reason drove the women’s recruitment. The specialized dog training was done in Cambodia, by the nonprofit Apopo, and military-aged men are currently not allowed to leave Ukraine.

War has shaken up gender dynamics in the Ukrainian economy, with women taking up jobs traditionally held by men, such as driving trucks or welding. Now, as mobilization ramps up once more, women are becoming increasingly important in roles that are critical for national security.

In Mykolaiv, in the industrial east, Nahorna and her dogs will soon take on one of the biggest targets of Russia’s military strategy when they start to demine the country’s energy infrastructure. Here, women have been stepping in to work in large numbers in steel mills, factories, and railways serving the front line.

It’s a big shift for Ukraine. Before the war, only 48 percent of women over age 15 took part in the workforce — one of the lowest rates in Europe. War has made collecting data on the gender composition of the workforce impossible, but today, 50,000 women serve in the Ukrainian army, compared to 30,000 before the war.

The catalyst came in 2017, years before the current war began. As conflict escalated with Russia in Crimea, the Ukrainian government overturned a Soviet-era law that had previously banned women from 450 occupations.

But obstacles still remain; for example, women are not allowed jobs the government deems too physically demanding. These barriers continue to be chipped away—most recently, women have been cleared to work in underground mines, something they were prevented from doing before.

Viktoriia Avramchuk never thought she would follow her father and husband into the coal mines for DTEK, Ukraine’s largest private energy company.

Her lifelong fear of elevators was a big factor—but there was also the fact that it was illegal for women to work underground.

Her previous job working as a nanny in a local kindergarten disappeared overnight when schools were forced to close at the beginning of the war. After a year of being unemployed, she found that she had few other options.

“I would never have taken the job if I could have afforded not to,” Avramchuk said from her home in Pokrovsk. “But I also wanted to do something to help secure victory, and this was needed.”

The demining work that Nahorna does is urgent in part because more than 55 percent of the country is farmed.

Often called “the breadbasket of Europe,” Ukraine is one of the world’s top exporters of grain. The U.K.-based Tony Blair Institute for Global Change, which has been advising the Ukrainian government on demining technology, estimates that landmines have resulted in annual GDP losses of $11 billion.

“Farmers feel the pressure to plow, which is dangerous,” said Jon Cunliffe, the Ukraine country director of Mines Advisory Group (MAG), a British nonprofit. “So we need to do as much surveying as possible to reduce the size of the possible contamination.”

The dogs can quickly clear an area of heavy vegetation, which greatly speeds up the process of releasing noncontaminated lands back to farmers. If the area is found to be unsafe, human deminers step in to clear the field manually.

“I’m not brave enough to be on the front line,” 29-year-old Iryna Manzevyta said as she slowly and diligently hovered a metal detector over a patch of farmland. “But I had to do something to help, and this seemed like a good alternative to make a difference.”

Groups like MAG are increasingly targeting women. With skilled male deminers regularly being picked up by military recruiters, recruiting women reduces the chances that expensive and time-consuming training will be invested in people who could be drafted to the front line at a moment’s notice. The demining work is expected to take decades, and women, unlike men, cannot be conscripted in Ukraine.

This urgency to recruit women is accelerating a gender shift already underway in the demining sector. Organizations like MAG have looked to recruit women as a way to empower them in local communities. Demining was once a heavily male-dominated sector, but women now make up 30 percent of workers in Vietnam and Colombia, around 40 percent in Cambodia, and more than 50 percent in Myanmar.

In Ukraine, the idea is to make demining an enterprise with “very little expat footprint,” and Cunliffe said that will only be possible by recruiting more women.

“We should not be here in 10 years. Not like in Iraq or South Sudan, where we have been for 30 years, or Vietnam, or Laos,” Cunliffe said. “It’s common sense that we bring in as many women as we can to do that. In five to 10 years, a lot of these women are going to end up being technical field managers, the jobs that are currently being done by old former British military guys, and it will change the face of demining worldwide because they can take those skills across the world.”

Manzevyta is one of the many women whose new job has turned her family dynamics on their head. She has handed over her previous life, running a small online beauty retail site, to her husband, who—though he gripes—stays at home while she is out demining.

“Life is completely different now,” she said, giggling. “I had to teach him how to use the washing machine, which settings to use, everything around the house because I’m mostly absent now.”

More seriously, Manzevyta said that the war has likely changed many women’s career trajectories.

“I can’t imagine people who have done work like this going back and working as florists once the war is over,” she laughed.

[ladytauria]

@ragnarokhound asked: 🎃👻 Trick or treat!! 🍫🍬🍭

hehe hi fenris!!

you may have seen me answer this & then found it deleted—i accidentally clicked post while clearing away a notification. the joys of mobile Tumblr, lmao.

anyway!

for you... i am going to talk about my selkieljason wip! (as a warning, this is basically a summary of every detail i have for this fic so… if you don’t want spoilers for a hypothetical story that may never end up fully written, don’t click!)

it's a #+1 fic—i havent decided if it's going to be 3, 4, or 5 haha. the summary is:

X times Tim could have stolen Jason's coat but didn't, and 1 time Jason wrapped him in it.

It's an urban fantasy AU where non-humans are known about but either a) not common or b) still don't really show their faces much. There are a lot of stereotypes & untrue beliefs about the various non-humans, as well as conflicting myths & such. Most of them prefer not to deal with having to educate humans and either live among them secretly or have their own separate communities—or both.

Jason is a selkie, of course; Gotham has a small selkie community but they prefer to stay relatively secretive. Still, there’s a common phrase you hear among the folk of Gotham:

“You want an obedient spouse? Catch yourself a selkie wife.”

As such, Jason keeps his true nature tucked tight to his chest. He also can’t bear to be parted with his coat. It NEEDS to be within his sight at all times—nowhere else is safe enough. Luckily for him, the magic of a selkie’s pelt allows it to change forms as he wants/needs it to. It’s been a red hoodie, a school blazer, a yellow cape, and most recently, a brown leather jacket.

The bats are all aware that Jason is a selkie. Jason trusted Bruce enough to tell him after about six months to a year of living with him, and that knowledge spread to Alfred and Dick and later to Tim and Damian. (In this AU, the Robin uniform in Bruce’s case has no cape.)

I am picturing this happening while Tim and Jason are tentatively something. They start out as fwb with feelings. Both of them knowing the other has feelings but less sure of their own, if they can really be the person the other wants or needs.

There is also still definitely some friction between them. Since it’s Jason’s POV a lot of that friction is focused on whether or not Tim can live with the way he handles his cases as well as his distance from the other bats. But there’s also likely some concerns about whether or not Jason can live with Tim’s quirks, haha.

Anyway. Outside of their relationship they also work together a lot, because they genuinely do work very well as a team. They compensate for each other’s weaknesses and boost each other’s strengths—and these days, there’s a mutual respect, now that Tim is better at understanding Jason.

But they still have issues there, too.

Each of the five incidents involve them fighting or disagreeing. I also want to show them steadily taking steps in their relationship, as well; growing from fwb to more of a couple haha. But each of therese incidents/cicrcumstances involve Tim handling Jason’s coat while he’s vulnerable.

Each time, Jason wakes up fearing that Tim will have taken his coat and hidden it. Tim may not want a selkie groom—he can think of a lot of bad things about Tim, but never that he would coerce Jason into any kind of relationship—but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want Jason’s obedience. His cooperation.

Each time, though, Jason’s coat is either safe in his sight or touching him.

The last incident is definitely the worst and the one Jason thinks that Tim will break up with him over, even if he doesn’t take the coat, but instead—

Instead he doesn’t.

It cements Jason’s trust in Tim. That he can trust him not to take advantage of what he is no matter how bad their fights get or how angry Tim is with him. And he wants to show Tim that. That he knows it, that he loves him, so—

He does it the only way he knows how:

He wraps Tim in his coat and kisses him.

Which brings us to the only proper scene I have written for this fic:

Jason runs his thumb over his coat, the leather of its disguise buttery soft, and watches Tim. He’s utterly at ease on Jason’s couch, scrolling through his phone, one arm dangling off the armrest. Jason swallows, stomach twisting with nerves. He takes a breath—in through the nose, out through the mouth. Then, he strides forward, clenching his coat a bit tighter.

He kneels in front of Tim, capturing his attention. His phone falls to the side as Tim’s brows furrow. Before he can ask what Jason is doing, Jason unfurls his coat, wrapping it around Tim’s shoulders.

His eyes grow wide. “Ja— wh—“

Jason can feel the heat on his face. Knows he has to be pink, at the very least. But he doesn’t stop, tugging Tim forward and into the briefest, chastest kiss before resting their foreheads together.

“Caught you,” he murmurs.

The smile he receives is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

[hallows-evening]

hehe I love them, this idea has been on my mind for DAYS and now I am finally sharing it

Fic based off the image below the cut! ^^ Here is part two!

NSFW/ FETISH/ PROSHIP DNI

🍂 Ler!Poob (they/them), Lee!Pest (he/they) 🧡

(no japanese and no poob tq because I'm writing this on mobile and I might break something lol)

Pest grumbled softly to themself, staring at the door with a disgrunted look, waiting for the elevator to drop them off. The last rando finally stopped off at a floor called Splitsville and never returned, and Gnarpy, who, the moment the elevator stopped at a convienence store, left instantly in search for catnip. Which left Pest with.... them.

The "them" in question was no other than Party Noob, nicknamed by many others as simply "Poob". Pest was aware of Poob snatching quick glances at them, just waiting to start an annoying conversation on the only thing they ever talk about: parties. They particulary hated them because of their extroverted personality, clashing with Pest's more anti-social one. They wanted to be left alone, Poob would not let that slide.

They continued glaring at the elevator door, watching the numbers go by and the doors opening to every other place BUT the one they wanted to go. Pest, zoned out, did not notice Poob getting ever so closer to him until they were almost touching, and Poob decided to blow their party horn right next to Pest's ear, causing them to jump and let out an angry snarl.

"POOB."

"....Yes? Hi!" Poob waved their hand. "Welcome back! You are zonin' out and I wanted to-" Pest slapped their hand away, glaring at them. Poob shut up instantly, still smiling despite Pest's tall and (frankly) scary demeanor he suddenly put on.

"Do not do that again or I will throw you OUT at the next floor that shows up." They growled, not noticing the sudden holes appearing on the ceiling. Poob, having lost interest in what they told them, noticed the holes and jumped at Pest right before a spike shot out right where they were just standing.

Both were thrown to the ground, slightly against the wall, and Pest looked up at Poob in surprise and a little bit of anger that they had pushed them that hard.

"AH SORRY!!! I didn't want that spike to hit you!!!!" Poob exclaimed nervously, struggling to get up and out of Pest's grip, squeezing their side accidentally. Pest let out a small gasp, quickly and nervously pushing at Poob and struggling to get up themselves. Poob stopped for a second, wondering why they let out that small sound, staring at him. There was a small hint of a blush on Pest's cheeks. Then it dawned on them.

"Awwwhh Pesty I didn't know you were ticklish!" Pest's blush deepened at the observation, and then he instantly tried to scramble away from Poob, to no avail. Oh god no.

"NO I AM NOT." They growled, a hint of a shake in their voice. "No? Then why'd you make that noise? Can you do it again? Or am I gonna have to get it out of ya?" Poob smiled, a mischevious one.

Pest started fighting off Poob's hands advancing towards him. "DO- DO NO-OHOT!!" They yelped, losing their grip on one of their hands and it instantly going to his side. Poob giggled at them. "Ya know you've been reeeeally grumpy lately! You keep stealing from people, too. I think you need a little cheer up, and a little bit of punishment!" They watched as Pest struggled against them, squirming and flailing his arms, trying so hard not to let out all the laughter bubbling inside of them.

Pest used one hand to cover up his face as a grin managed to creep it's way onto their face. They tried to grab Poob's hand, but Poob just grabbed their arm and pushed it against the elevator wall. "Nuh uh." They scratched and scribbled their fingers underneath Pest's arm, making them throw their head back and kick their legs. They released their arm, using that hand to tickle Pest's other side.

Pest squirmed and flailed and kicked their legs, a tear forming at the edge of their eye. God this can not be happening! He was started to lose his breath from how long they've been trying to keep their laughter in, refusing to let Poob win. Poob, on the other hand, decided to switch one hand to his neck and that broke them.

"POHOHOHOOB NOOHOHOHO pFTTAHAHAAAAHHAHA-" Pest laughed hysterically, scrunching up their neck from Poob's prying fingers. Poob looked at them in surprise, not expecting this much of a reaction, but smiled and used the hand that was under Pest's arm to tickle his neck with the other hand. "Looks like I've found your weaaak spoott!" They sang the last words, enjoying the sight before him. Big scary guy that looks like he could rip you in half being tickled to bits? Absolutely adorable to them.

Pest continued to laugh, twisting and turning his body sporadically, trying to buck Poob off of him but with no luck. Poob took mental note of how they haven't told them to stop yet, and by the way his tail's wagging, they assumed they were enjoying this. They looked at Pest absolutely melted against the wall, halfway on the floor now, their hat slightly off their head and hair all messed up; Poob could be here for hours. They adored the way Pest was smiling and laughing, they hadn't ever seen him this.. happy. Poob was resisting the urge to snuggle up against him. They know if he did Pest would give him a few scars to take to his next party.

Poob was so focused on Pest's face that they didn't notice them getting weaker, until Pest clawed gently at their hoodie and they were brought back to attention. Poob stopped, moving their hands away from their neck and scooting away from them nervously. Pest, still giggling, rubbed at their face with a small growl, bringing their now-free legs up to his chest. They refused to acknowledge the feelings that moment left him, of Poob staring at him with a happy and caring look, making them melt into laughter that felt so unlike him.

They opened one eye, staring straight at Poob in the corner of the elevator with an unreadable expression. Right as they did that, a ding played and the door opened to the subway, their stop. Pest quickly got up, slipping a little on the floor, ignoring Poob's offer at help, and bolted straight out the door, not looking back. Poob watched them go, a little disappointed, but not like that was out of character for Pest to do... however, Poob didn't miss the blush still on their face as they ran out of the elevator.

[totallyexhausted]

Windbreaker H/C:

Sakura getting really sick a few days after a fight because the dumbass didn’t take care of an injury properly. Group to rescue, lecture from Umemiya.

Sakura getting serious migraines after a fight due to the amount of blows he took (there is a nice fic like this already but I’m greedy). He fights through a good portion until he can’t; nose bleeds and everything. Group to rescue.

Sakura getting jumped/ held down by several in a fight and getting the crap kicked out of him. Of course the kid held his own but several people held him down. Group to rescue.

Sakura being sick during a fight, getting way worse after when they all meet up at the cafe. Kotoha (obviously at this point everyone knows something is wrong with the loud mouth) goes to feel his forehead, and Sakura freaks, stumbling backward, knocking his chair down (basically flashbacks from his childhood). Group to rescue. Lecture from Umemiya.

Sakura getting heat stroke either during class or after fight because the damn kid won’t take off his jacket. Basically he passes out and to help cool him off, someone takes off his jacket/ shirt…. And they are all the scars from his childhood.

Sakura getting overwhelmed by the treatment of the townspeople, his classmates or friends and has a panic attack. Group to the rescue.

Sakura gets wasted one night/ afternoon. The townspeople can be a bit too generous sometimes- he blames Nirei for knowing everyone. Group/ Umemiya to the rescue.

Sakura‘s been hella quiet on the way back from a fight - maybe like they meet up with Togame and Chijo/ their gang every now and then to spare for fun. Anyway, he’s been real quiet and trailing behind, snapping at anyone who mentions it… he passes out at one point.

Or

Sakura gets caught up on helping Grandpa Yama when all he wants to do is finish patrol early, go home and sleep off whatever the hell is wrong with him. He ends up passing out from fever, waking up with several street people hovering over him; Umemiya crouching next to him (they called Umemiya when Sakura went down)…. Basically Umemiya to the rescue.

Actually thinking about writing one of these as I have a title lmfao….

Also side note, anyone else think the soundtrack is bangin?

Because I did an injustice (and I can’t link to save my life right now so apologies):

The migraine fic I was referencing is on Ao3:

Sakura’s a Migraine Girlie Fr Fr by SoupMonarchWrites

Hey @soupmonarchart is this you?? Also thank you for calling me out because I would want the fic too 😊😊

And this one I check out today with him having the flu:

Sakura Hakura and His Worst Enemy (the Cold) by Blowingyourmind

Hope it’s okay to reference- if I can figure out linking on mobile, I’ll add :) sorry for the injustice everyone!!