#but i want to try being a little more active again

[thesecondhandwoman]

I’ll think of the jist

When reader is well enough to work for ambessa she uses a rollator (walker with like a table/seat) so she can carry multiple things at once that she couldn’t with a cane.

reader interrupts a meeting quietly to give Ambessa something, the room is full of big strong people who look down on sick ppl even if it’s genetic (:/)

They comment on her ability to work and ambessas like Nuh uh she fine brotha and Ambessa thinks nothing of it, reader thinks a lot of it and can’t sleep

lol thank you goodbye

MORE THAN ENOUGH

Ambessa x f!reader

Synopsis: Being Ambessa’s assistant and having chronic pain was difficult, but it was always worse when you tried to help on more manageable days only be to told that you are incapable.

Request: @possessedmagpie

A/N: This is part two of Chronically Ill

The soft light of morning slipped through the towering windows of Ambessa Medarda’s estate, a golden glow painting the cold stone walls. The days always started early in Noxus, the city that never slept, but for you, mornings weren’t a signal to begin. They were another checkpoint in the never-ending cycle of managing your body’s rebellion against itself.

You shifted beneath the thick covers, testing your limbs carefully. The ache that usually gripped you like iron shackles had ebbed to a low thrum today. It wasn’t gone, but it was manageable. Relief flickered in your chest, tempered by caution. You had learned long ago that even “good days” came with limits.

The other constant in your mornings lay beside you, Ambessa, her powerful frame still as she slept, her features softened in the pale light. Despite the countless demands on her time and energy, she always made space for you. She had stayed the night again, likely at your insistence, despite her busy schedule. She’d never admit it, but you suspected she worried about you constantly.

As if sensing your gaze, Ambessa stirred, her amber eyes blinking open. A small smile tugged at her lips as she caught you watching her.

“Good morning, little one,” she murmured, her voice low and warm, still laced with sleep.

“Good morning,” you replied, voice hushed, as though speaking too loudly would break the delicate peace between you.

Her eyes searched your face, her brow furrowing slightly. “How are you feeling?” she asked, the question laden with genuine care.

You considered her words, stretching carefully to test the limits of your body. “Better,” you said after a moment. “Not great, but I think I can manage today.”

Ambessa propped herself up on one elbow, her expression skeptical but not dismissive. “Are you sure?”

You nodded. “I want to try. I can’t stand feeling useless, Ambessa.”

“You’re never useless,” she said firmly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Your value isn’t measured by how much you can do. You know that, don’t you?”

“I know,” you murmured, though the weight in your chest said otherwise.

Her hand lingered against your cheek, her touch both grounding and reassuring. “Alright,” she said after a moment. “But promise me you’ll be careful. No pushing yourself too hard. If you need to stop, you stop. Understood?”

“Understood,” you said softly, leaning into her palm.

She pressed a kiss to your forehead, her lips lingering just long enough to make your heart ache in the best way.

By mid-morning, the estate was bustling with activity. Servants and guards moved swiftly through the halls, their boots echoing against the polished stone floors. The sheer size of the estate could be overwhelming, even intimidating, but today you felt determined.

The rollator was your lifeline, its sturdy frame and built-in seat allowing you to navigate the estate without collapsing. It wasn’t a perfect solution—there were still moments when the pain flared unexpectedly, threatening to rob you of the strength to keep going—but it gave you a sense of independence.

Today, you carried an important correspondence marked with the crest of General Vessar. The message had arrived early, its contents urgent enough to require Ambessa’s immediate attention. Despite the challenges of moving through the estate, you were determined to deliver it personally.

The grand hall where Ambessa was meeting her advisors loomed ahead, the heavy double doors closed but not impenetrable. Pausing just outside, you took a deep breath, steadying yourself against the ache radiating through your legs.

The moment you entered, the room fell silent. The rollator’s wheels squeaked faintly as you moved across the polished floor, your presence a disruption in the midst of their intense discussions.

At the head of the long table, Ambessa sat tall and imposing, her amber eyes sharp and focused. The sight of her sent a pang of comfort through your chest; she was the one constant in a world that often felt too harsh to navigate.

“Ambessa,” you said, your voice soft but steady.

Her gaze snapped to you, her expression shifting immediately. The hard edge she wore in these meetings melted away, replaced by a warmth that seemed out of place amidst the cold, calculating figures around her.

“Little one,” she greeted, her voice low and tender.

You grabbed the sealed letter on the table of your rollator as you moved it a bit closer and held it out to her. “This arrived this morning. From General Vessar.”

She shifted in her chair slightly as she turned to face you, taking the letter from your hands with a subtle nod. Her fingers brushed yours briefly—a fleeting touch that carried more reassurance than words ever could.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice soft enough that only you could hear.

But the moment was short-lived.

“She’s still working for you?” a voice called from the far end of the table.

Your chest tightened.

The man who spoke leaned back in his chair, his tone dripping with disbelief. “How can someone in her condition handle the responsibilities you’ve given her?”

Another advisor chimed in, her voice quieter but no less cutting. “It does seem unwise. The demands of this role require someone—”

“Capable,” the first man interrupted. “Someone who isn’t constantly compromised.”

The words struck like a blade, each syllable carving into your carefully built armor.

Ambessa’s chair scraped against the floor as she stood, her movements deliberate and commanding.

“Enough,” she said, her voice sharp and unforgiving.

The room fell silent.

Ambessa’s gaze swept over the advisors like a storm about to break. Her presence was a force of nature, and for a moment, you pitied the fools who dared challenge her judgment.

“You will not question her competence,” she said, her tone cold enough to freeze fire. “Do any of you doubt my ability to judge who is fit for their role?”

No one dared respond.

“Let me make something very clear,” she continued, her voice like a blade. “Y/N has proven her worth time and time again. She is stronger and more useful than any of you could hope to be, and I will not tolerate such ignorance in my presence.”

Her words were a shield, protecting you from their scorn, but they couldn’t stop the tears that welled in your eyes. You wanted to speak, to defend yourself, but the weight of their judgment was crushing.

Ambessa turned to you, her expression softening. “Go rest, little one,” she said gently.

You nodded, your throat too tight to form words. As you left the room, the rollator steady beneath your hands, you couldn’t shake the sting of their words.

Back in your quarters, the pain returned, not the physical ache in your joints, but the sharp, unrelenting sting of humiliation and self-doubt. You sank onto the edge of your bed, burying your face in your hands.

The echoes of their voices replayed in your mind, each word a reminder of what you couldn’t do, of how the world saw you. No matter how hard you worked, no matter how much you gave, it was never enough.

You didn’t hear the door open, but you felt the mattress dip beside you. A familiar hand rested on your shoulder, warm and grounding.

“Little one,” Ambessa said softly.

You wiped at your eyes, turning away from her. “I’m fine,” you lied.

She didn’t respond immediately. Instead, she wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close until your head rested against her shoulder.

“They don’t understand,” she said after a moment. “They never will. But you don’t need their approval.”

“I just… I wanted to help,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I wanted to prove I could still do something right.”

“You’ve done more than enough,” she said, pressing a kiss to your temple. “You’re more than enough. Don’t let them take that away from you.”

Her words wrapped around you like a lifeline, pulling you back from the edge of despair.

“I’m tired,” you admitted, the weight of the day pressing heavily on your chest. “I’m so tired, Ambessa.”

“I know,” she murmured, her voice full of quiet empathy. “But you don’t have to carry this alone. I’m here, I always will be.”

You whimpered a little, holding back tears as you sunk into her arms as she lied down on the bed with you, stroking the back of your head for comfort.

She stayed with you long into the night, her presence a steady anchor in the storm of your emotions. When sleep finally came, it was with the comforting knowledge that no matter how heavy the world felt, Ambessa would always be there to share the burden.

A/N: I got a peace offering to write this, loving it.

[so-i-did-this-thing]

im sorry this might not be the place to ask for advice/help but im doomscrolling about the news and the soon to be president and im seeing so much to be scared shitless about, invasions, removal of vaccines, cost of living increases, revoking of trans rights and how it might make it all the more impossible to get the surgeries i wanted... its just too fucking scary to breathe right now what do i do with myself

Hey, Anon. I'm here. A lot of us are here right with you.

It's scary, to be sure. And I'm not going to sugarcoat the possibilities of things going south very quickly. So, let's jump into some survival tactics.

This post on burnout is a great place to start. There is a lot of overlap with burnout and the anxiety you're feeling.

Allow yourself to slow down and unplug. You are allowed to step away from the news cycle -- events out of your control will unfold regardless.

Don't feel guilty by letting yourself relax. I find it especially helpful to do activities that don't involve the internet -- I've been decorating my house, mending broken crockery, and sketching some embroidery ideas. I try to take the time to get dressed and groomed every day, to remind myself that I matter. I spend more time outdoors.

As you find the ability to relax, you'll be able to focus better on the things you can do to be resilient. Things I have been doing to improve myself and make me a better helper:

Staying on top of my medical appointments and any preventive care I can do

Working to be physically healthier overall to mitigate future medical issues

Getting all my paperwork in order, including passports

Tweaking my financial budget

Researching what estate & family documentation needs to be done to protect my relationship in case my marriage gets dissolved

Brushing up on job skills, getting new certifications to stay competitively employable

Stocking up on my medical and general emergency supplies, especially for bad weather events

Getting in the habit of mindful purchases, curbing my habit of impulse shopping

Selling things I don't want or need anymore to have a little extra money and be able to move house easier, if need be

Building a habit of fixing/maintaining my possessions instead of trashing broken things

Canceling online subscriptions and quitting social networks that make me feel in danger

Getting my personal and any queer-related files out of the cloud and onto redundant solid state drives

Downloading / printing out queer resources and buying queer art that may be banned or monitored in the future

Enjoying physical media again and hunting for old favorites

Keeping in touch with queer friends and allies and making plans in case people (even myself) need to flee

Being visible when I can and knowing when it's best to lay low

Allowing myself the luxury to dig into things Old Me would have saved for "special" events -- aka, wearing the nice clothes and eating off the fine china as an everyday thing

Shutting the fuck up, especially online, when I think my words could be used against me

In a way, I am trying to simply become a better version of myself, one who is calm & self-sufficient, mindful about his actions, and available to help those in need. It sucks that the driving factor is fear, but I intend to use that fear as a catalyst to be stronger and survive.

There is a lot to be done, but there was always going to be work, new regime or not. But please, start with that burnout article so you can jump into your own plans with new hope and energy. ❤️

[milktrician]

Hello hello! :D

SQH-SY siblings au for the ask game, please?

I'm pretty sure I wrote this after someone wrote a text post about the idea but idk if I would be able to track that down, or if it existed at all and I'm misremembering. Anyway, I didn't really have a set plot in mind after I wrote this short snippet other than it would be very funny for Shen Yuan to try and actively sabotague Shang Qinghua's efforts to become head disciple of An Ding while looking as innocent as possible. I don't think I'm going to write anymore for this idea as I have other wips I want to focus on but feel free anyone to write out their own interpretation! Anyways, here's what I wrote a few weeks back:

[ Activation code: “Dumbfuck author, dumbfuck novel.” System automatically triggered ]

What? What the fuck is this?

[ Host is in the midst of transmigration! ]

No—what? This is a dream, Airplane’s stupid fucking writing must have made me pass out!

Rrgh! I need to punch the fucker IRL!

[ Host would like to see Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky? ]

YES!

[ Beginning transmigration… ]

What?

“Oh! It’s a boy!”

“W-Wait what? Doctor, didn’t you say it was going to be a girl?”

What the hell?

He feels himself get wrapped within a cloth, and suddenly he's enveloped in warmth. He’s being…held?

Any attempt to move his limbs is caught by the cloth wrapped around him. His tongue presses against toothless gums, and his vision is too blurry to make out anything.

No…

“Haha, well surprises always happen! Did you have a name in mind if you two had another son?”

“Ah, well I suppose we never gave any thought to it. A-Yu, you’re always good at coming up with names with your little stories, how about you name your little brother?”

No…

“You…ah, shouldn’t it be up to you two? Like erm. Tradition or something? Like this is a whole baby I sh-shouldn’t be responsible for the name he’ll be called for the rest of his life!”

A woman then laughs above him, 

“A-Yu, I think I’m much too tired to think right now. You’re a smart boy, any name you come up with I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.”

He…died. 

Transmigration’s real!?

AND HE’S A BABY!

Oh—whoever this person is, please don’t name him something stupid.

[ Don’t worry Host! This System has you covered! ]

“…Yuan?” Whoever “A-Yu” is, he said that like he wasn’t even sure of it himself! Thank god he still has his old name in this life at least.

“Shang Yuan…I like that.”

System…where have I transmigrated?

[ This System operates in line with the design concept “YOU CAN YOU UP, NO CAN NO BB”; we hope to provide you with the best possible experience. It is our sincere wish that during your time, you can fulfill your desires and, in accordance to your wish, ‘see Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky’ ]

[ Congratulations! Congratulations! Congratulations! Important things must be said three times! ]

What now?!

[ User has completed his wish! ]

I…did?

[ Entering Limited Sandbox Mode! Feel free to explore within the constraints of the plot! ]

[ We hope you enjoy the world of Proud Immortal Demon Way! ]

WHAT?

“Ah! He’s crying, give him here.”

“Ahh. You’re so cute lil bro! Cutest baby in the whole wide world!”

A-Yu, or Shang Hongyu, is his new older brother in this life and is maybe eight or nine years older than him. He’s apparently very smart for his age, and their parents are already tutoring him to take over their father’s business.

He hears his older brother sniffle,

“Too bad you’ll probably never see me again in a few years.” he says, “I’ve gotta head to Cang Qiong and make my way up An Ding in the next few years.”

Hold on a second.

His older brother holds him tight against his chest, and from here he can feel his breath shudder.

“I’ve never had a sibling by blood before.”

He’s brought to his sibling’s bed and his brother lays next to him lazily.

“Just a few more years and you guys won’t have to see me again.” his brother says to noone, “They’re…surprisingly good parents, didi. Once they don’t have me to worry about, they can spoil you as much as you want.”

Geez, what kind of weird complex do you have?

Though. Shang surely is a common surname right? Lots of Shangs to go to An Ding!

System where in the timeline are we?

[ System is currently in maintenance for future updates! ]

Fine. He’ll figure it out his own way!

His own chubby fingers are able to grab onto his brother’s robe.

“Gege.” He says, to the best of his ability with his shitty little baby mouth.

He doesn’t expect his brother to burst out crying and start to hug him tight.

[fanfictiongirlie]

Supernatural: It Comes With The Job

Parings: Dean Winchester x Reader

Description: Reader and Dean go on a hunt and Reader puts herself in danger, once back at the motel the two have an argument about it, voices are raised, but in the end they make up.

Rating: Teen Audiences and Up

Warnings: Angst, arguing, swearing

Words: 1,635

I don't often write fluffy stuff with no smut. But I wanted to write something for Supernatural, I may end up writing a part two with smut, but I'm not sure yet. I wrote this at like 5am, so if there's any mistakes, kindly ignore them. Thanks! Anyways, enjoy! Let me know what you think! (Be kind!)

The tension was thick when you and Dean walked into your shared motel room, Sam had his own room, not wanting to share with you and Dean, knowing the activities you usually got up to. 

You had just gotten back from a relatively successful case. Successful because the vampire you had been hunting was dead, but it left you a little banged up, covered in bruises and a few cuts. And all because you decided to make a reckless decision, using yourself as bait. It had worked in the end, and you survived, but Dean was pissed. 

"You could of died" He finally snapped. 

"I got us out of there, didn't I?" You snapped back, not looking at him, you shrugged your coat off and threw it on the armchair. 

"You almost got yourself killed!" His voice raised, and his jaw clenched, from behind you, he glared. His hands were clenched by his sides. 

"That literally comes with the job Dean!" You yell, still not looking round, you weren't sure if you'd yell louder or cry if you met his gaze right now. You were in pain and wanted nothing more than to curl up into bed, but that wasn't looking likely. 

"That doesn't mean you need to be reckless about it!" He argues. 

"Says you, you're always reckless" 

"It's different!" He says sharply. You whipped round, anger pulsing through you now, he was closer than you expected, towering over you. You shot daggers from your eyes, feeling your face redden. 

"That better not be some bullshit, because I'm a girl thing!"

"That's not what I mean, and you know it" He stated, his tone dark "You put yourself in that scenario and you have gotten yourself-" 

He let the words hang in his throat and looked away, his eyes closing for a moment. You were still sneering at him, you sighed and looked at the pain in his expression. 

"Dean" You say quietly and a little softer "I knew I'd be okay"

"That doesn't matter!" He snapped, his tone a lot louder. "You almost weren't!"

You stepped back slightly, his yelling making you falter slightly. You hated when he yelled, it had always made you feel more stressed, and more angry. There was something about a men yelling at you, even Dean, that enraged you. Made you see red. 

"You're too damn reckless sometimes" He mutters. 

"And you're too damn overprotective sometimes" You mutter back, matching his tone. He scoffs and folds his arms over his chest. 

"Well, excuse me for trying to keep you alive" He retorts dryly. 

"I can keep myself alive" You mutter, copping his stance, folding your arms over your chest. 

"Obviously not if you're going to keep putting yourself in ridiculously dangerous situations" He mutters, looking away from you. 

"I don't know if you noticed, but I'm alive right now" You say a little louder than before. Dean finally turned back to look at you, his expression hardened. 

"I did notice. I also noticed the fact that you could be dead right now, because of your stupid actions" He yells, his voice louder than your tone, it pissed you off. A lot. Enough to not think about what you say next. 

"At least if I were dead, I wouldn't be standing here being yelled at like some friggin' kid!" You snap, regretting the words as soon as you say them. Dean froze, his eyes widened slightly. 

He started at you for a moment, hurt clearly written across his face. He swallowed hard and looked away again, his jaw clenching. 

"Fine" He grumbles "Maybe you should leave then. So you won't have to 'tolerate' me anymore" 

"Dean" You say quietly, his words hurting you "I'm...I'm sorry"

"Save it" He replies in a monotone. It wasn't good when he shut down like this, especially when it was towards you. He stood there, staring at the wall, his hands balling into fists. 

You nodded, knowing he needed some time to cool down. 

"I'll be back later" You say quietly, grabbing your coat again. He didn't say anything. So you left the motel and walked across the carpark to the dinghy bar opposite the motel. It was lively, you grumbled slightly, not wanting to be around this many people, but you couldn't go back to the motel, so you ordered a drink for yourself. 

Dean had stayed at the motel for a while after you left, staring at the same piece of wall, fighting the urge to go out looking for you. 

Eventually, he decided to walk across to the bar, unknowing that's where you were. He walked inside and there you were, he spotted you sitting alone at the bar with a drink in your hand. 

Your eyes caught him, and your heart ached for him. You wanted to stop arguing. So you decided to play yours and Dean's favourite game. You often went to bars, pretending not to know one another, and then start flirting. You stood up and walked over to him, hoping he'd play alone. 

"Hi handsome, here alone?" You ask, smirking up at him. 

He was surprised for a moment, not expecting you to come up to him. Especially after your fight earlier. He understood the game you were playing and smirked, raising an eyebrow at you. 

"All by my lonesome" He answered, tilting his head as he took you in, clearly checking you out and taking in his fill of your form. 

"What a shame, why don't you let me buy you a drink?" You ask him, placing your hand on his arm, squeezing his muscles lightly. 

"Mm, that'd be lovely" He answered and put on his most charming smile, the one that made you melt every time. He ran his eyes over you again, and gestured to the booth closest to you, silently telling you to sit. 

You ordered him a drink and another for yourself, he took the drink from you with a quiet 'Thanks' and took a swallow of it. He shuffled into the booth, sliding all the way to lean against the wall, you slide in after him, opting to sit next to him. 

"Dean..."You say quietly "I'm sorry"

He was quiet for a moment, and you really thought he'd still be angry. His expression softened and he met your eye. You hoped he could see the sincerity in my apologetic look. 

"I'm sorry too" He murmured "Things just got out of hand, but I shouldn't have said what I said in my anger. I should've never let things get to that point in the first place"

"No, I said some horrible things, I didn't mean it" You say sadly. 

"I know you didn't" He replies, offering a small, reassuring smile. He reaches out, hesitating for a moment before placing his hand over yours, giving a gentle squeeze. 

"I'm also sorry I did something stupid on the hunt" 

"Are you ever not doing something stupid when you're hunting though?" He questions, with a smirk and a raised brow, though he tone was completely teasing.

"I could ask you the same thing" You say, matching his smirk. 

"Hey, I only do stupid when necessary" He retorts, his voice lighter than before, his tone still teasing. He smirks and squeezes your hand again, whilst also taking a sip of his drink. 

"Let's not argue anymore?" You say hopeful. 

"Now that I can do" He agrees with you. His thumb absentmindedly caresses your knuckles gently. 

"Though, I have heard that make up sex is really good" You say with a wink. He chuckles and raises an eyebrow, eyeing you up, obviously liking the idea. 

"Oh yeah, you've heard that, have you?" He asks coyly. 

"I have, it's facts, trust me" You say, moving a little closer to him. 

"Mmhmm, I'd like to see the source on that" He says, he smirks and closed to gap between you, pressing his leg against yours, his arm moving to hold your waist. 

"Luckily for you, I'm a hands on teacher"

A breathless chuckles escapes him at your words, his fingers on your waist gave a gentle squeeze. 

"Is that so?" He asks, lowering his voice and leaning close so that his breath tickles your ear. You nod and then move slightly, wrapping your arms around his neck bringing him into a tight hug. You needed it, after the arguing. His hands slide around to your lower back, gently you closer. He buries his face against your shoulder, breathing in your unique scent and letting it wash over him. 

"I hate fighting" You mumble into his jacket. 

"I do too, and I hate that I let my anger get the better of me" He admits, his voice muffled against your shoulder. He nuzzles against the crook of your neck, his embrace tightening just a little. 

"Me too"

"Then promise me one thing?" He murmurs, pulling away from you just slightly so that he could look you in the eye. 

"Yes Dean?"

"Promise me you won't pull another stupid stunt like the one you pulled on the hunt today?" He asks, looking into your eyes, a serious expression in his eyes. 

"I promise Dean" You whisper, hugging him tightly again. He held a tight grip on you in return, almost crushing you to him. He lets out a deep sigh against your throat as he buries his face against it. Kissing it softly, gently as a sigh of his appreciation. 

You held onto him, probably looking strange, hugging in the middle of a bar but right now, you didn't care, you had stopped arguing and that was all that mattered. He places a soft kiss to your skin again, and you forgot all about the arguing, just happy you still had him and you were happy with each other once more. 

[girlcrushart]

You guys, @pigeonfoo has decided to be more active on tumblr again, which I love, but apparently a bunch of you are ruining it by being weirdos and asking obnoxious questions and it's getting her down. I'm hoping this poster doesn't upset her. Foo, if you see this and are all, no way, bitch! Don't use my pictures to make your stupid little posters! then please please tell me that and I'll get rid of it. My intent is to promote Foo's awesome content and float the idea that you could send her asks that don't have anything to do with sex toy shapes or which holes they go in (for the record, the tongue one is super hot and who wouldn't want to try it in all the holes?) but like, ya sometimes girls like being asked about their interests and just because a girl posts about sex a lot and also posts very sexy pics doesn't mean that's all she's interested in or wants to talk about. Like, I bet she'd like asks about Yokai, for example. It might make her day to get some asks about Yokai. Just a thought. Today's girlcrushart guardian is Pigeon Foo.

[miraculouslyfine]

stay with me.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Synopsis: just a regular day with your boyfriend, who happens to fight crime sometimes //nothing but pure fluff lol, slightly dramatic reader

(word count: 2k)

“You ever think your dad might secretly hate me?”

“Oh, yeah. All the time”

“Y/n, I'm being serious”

She snorted. Oh, yeah. Tony Stark secretly hating Peter Parker. That was a good one. Tony, the same guy who was practically begging May to let him adopt her nephew before he found out Peter was dating his child (he quickly dropped the idea as if May was even considering it, saying he didn't want any weird Alabama stuff happening under his roof). The guy who praised Peter (to be fair never in front of him) so much to the point where both Y/n and Morgan were starting to feel like Peter was the favorite child amongst them. Yeah, he hated him alright.

“No, Peter, I don't think my dad hates you. Where is this even coming from?”

“It's just... okay, listen, I was thinking-”

“That's never a good sign”

"Shut up.”, he glared at her, unimpressed by her comment. “As I was saying, I was thinking, Tony's...well... Tony Stark, Iron Man, a literal genius and I am... well... me. I feel like he secretly wishes I'd choke on something and die so I'll leave you alone...What I'm trying to say is that I feel like he doesn't think I'm good enough for you”, he sighed feeling a bit nervous now.

“Are you kidding? If anything, he thinks I'm not good enough for you. Everyone and their mom know he likes you more than me”

“I don't know... He still has the whole Iron Man and world-famous billionaire thing. You've got two parents who are like...two of the most important and influential people in the world. And I'm the nerdy dude with the mask...who gets good grades. Not exactly what they'd pair you with on Tinder”

“If it's any consolation, I'd totally swipe right on you”, she said with a wink.

He rolled his eyes, trying to look like he wasn't enjoying every second of this. “You're so cheeky, you know that?”

“And you looooove it. Just like you looooove me”, her tone was light and playful as she dragged out the words. Her arms wrapped around his neck without much thought; it had become second nature for her to be touching him in some way.

Peter's own arms wrapped around her waist almost instinctively, bringing her body closer to his. He sighed, still trying and failing to act annoyed as a small smile made its way to his face. “Oh, yeah. I'm crazy about you”

She mockingly rolled her eyes at him just like he had done a second ago. “Is that little sarcastic tone supposed to throw me off? Prove you're not? You're not fooling anyone, Petey. We both know it's true, so you better drop the attitude mister”, she grinned and pressed a light kiss on his lips, quickly pulling back.

“Don't push it”, he said in a half-serious/half-joking tone. “You're getting a little too sassy” He cupped her face and stole a longer kiss, gently holding her in place.

“Peter and Y/n, sitting on a tree, k-i-s-s-hmfm"

Peter's all-time favorite activity is kissing his girlfriend. It's especially enjoyable when he does it when she's being annoying, to shut her up. And that's exactly what he did now. He kissed her again, this time with a little more intensity. She's so close and so beautiful and so annoying in the best way possible and she's his and how did he get lucky enough to wind up with her?

He pulled her even closer. His hand held her by the hip, the other gently cupping her face. He finally broke the kiss, his breathing a bit heavy. “You're driving me crazy”

“Crazy? I was crazy once. They locked me in a room- okay, fine I'll stop, I'll stop, jeez”, she muttered under her breath once she saw the look Peter was giving her. “I love you?”

“Is that a question?”, he asked slightly amused at her attempt to get in his good graces.

“No, I definitely love you. And I'm very much in love with you”

He rolled his eyes again but smiled nonetheless. “And I'm in love with you”, he said affectionately, resting his forehead against hers for a moment. He just wanted to stay there like that, with her, for the rest of the day but he knew he had a patrol to get to.

“Oh no”

He raised an eyebrow skeptically at her sudden comment. “’Oh no’ what? What happened?”

“You're doing the face”, she said with a small frown.

He feigned innocence, like he didn't know what she was talking about. He totally knew what she was talking about. “What face? I'm not doing anything”

“You're doing the ‘I-have-SpiderManing-to-do' face”, her frown further deepened.

“Yeah, okay, I'll give you that”, he sighed sheepishly, taking the tiniest step back. “I need to go out and, y’know, save people in peril and all that. Being a hero and all. You know I have to”, his tone was just as soft as his touch when he gently cupped her cheek with his hand.

She instinctively leaned into his touch, looking into his eyes all soft and lovingly, making Peter's heart melt. “Do you really have to, though? How about you save your own girlfriend instead?”, she said playfully with an exaggerated pouty expression.

He brushed his thumb over her bottom lip, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. A sly grin formed on his face. “Oh yeah?”, he asked, playing into this. “And how's my girlfriend in need of saving?”

She smiled, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I'm glad you asked, Spidey"

She -very dramatically, in Peter's opinion -flopped on the bed, basically throwing herself on it. "I'm about to experience 'broken heart syndrome'. My boyfriend is about to abandon me"

Peter can’t help but laugh at her theatrics. She sounded like someone auditioning for the role of 'most unfortunate soul' in a melodrama. “You’re so dramatic. I’m not abandoning you; I’m just going out on patrol. I’m doing my job.”

"Same difference", she huffed before jumping up, now speaking in an overly cheerful tone. "But fear not, kind Spider-Man! There is a way to prevent this!"

“Oh yeah?” Peter chuckled. He had no idea where this was going, but he’d be damned if he didn’t continue indulging her. He’s weak for this girl. “And what’s that?”

With an exaggerated sigh, she pressed the back of her hand to her forehead, tilting her head back as if the weight of her woes was simply too much to bear.

"You have to spend the rest of the day here, with me. The streets of New York mustn't see you at all.” In a graceful, almost theatrical collapse, she draped herself across the armrest of the fainting couch (Peter swore the only reason she even had this thing was for dramatic falls like this one); the picture of overly dramatic defeat.

“Or else we're doomed!"

Peter couldn't help but start laughing. “The streets of New York mustn't, huh?”, he joked. He pulled her closer, looking at her with a grin. “And what, pray tell, exactly would be the terrible, awful consequence if I were to leave?” he teased, playing into her overly theatrical bit for her.

“I'd burst into glitter and confetti and the Earth would explode, naturally”, she said in a serious tone with a nod.

Peter laughed again. “That’s an, eh… interesting consequence,” he joked, holding her even closer. “So let me get this straight: you go kaboom unless I stay here?”

"Kaboom into glitter, yes", she nodded.

“Oh no, we can’t have that happening, can we?” he said, still amused. He gently pushed a piece of hair away from her face. “Who’s gonna be my girlfriend if you burst into glitter?"

"No one because I'm gonna haunt all your hoes away. Just kidding, that kind of language is unacceptable, all girls are beautiful, no girl's a hoe. But no other girlfriends for you, just me"

“No other girlfriends. Only you,” he chuckled with a smile. The thought alone that there would be any other girlfriends wasn’t even in his mind. She was the only girl he wanted. He gently lifted her chin so she was looking at him. “What else can I do for my amazing, beautiful, slightly dramatic girlfriend?”

"Stay with meeeee, I don't want you to leeeeaaaveeee", she said dramatically in the tone of that one Cigarettes After Sex song.

No way she broke out in a song right now-Peter shook his head and smiled, laughing at her overdramatic tone. “Oh my god, you are so over the top,” he joked. He took a few seconds, then in mock dramatics, he relented. “Okay, okay. I’ll stay. I can’t have you bursting into glitter.”

But she was far too into her role now; she had already fallen on her knees in front of him. "No, Peter, you don't understand, you have to stay-"

Her tone was overly pleading -it really sounded like she was on the verge of crying-, as if she were begging him, before she registered what he said, a big smile appearing on her face.

"Wait you're staying?"

Peter was taken aback by her being on her knees, and he couldn't stop himself from laughing at her melodramatic performance. “Oh, you really are committed to the bit, huh?”

When she asked him if he was staying, he pretended to sigh, as if this was some great burden, and nodded. “Yes. I’m staying.”

"Wait, really?", she stood up abruptly. "What about the people of New York? People are kind of dumb, they'll definitely need help with something at some point- I mean, everything's under control, people are so responsible. No crime happening at all. Ever. Don't leave"

He rolled his eyes again but smiled. He liked knowing she wanted him around as much as he did. "They'll be okay... I think. I hope. I could use a break anyway."

She smiled back at him, her gaze softening. "You don't have to stay, y'know. I wouldn't want you to worry whether an alien invasion is happening or not"

He gave her a look. "Don't joke about that. It has happened before-"

She lifted her hands in mock surrender. "Right, right, sorry, I thought we were allowed to joke about it now since it's been a while. Guess not", she said with a playful eye roll before her tone turned more soft, almost shy "But you'll stay?"

Peter paused, the weight of the decision heavy on his shoulders. The responsibilities he'd carried for so long tugged at him, a persistent reminder of duty and expectation. But then his gaze settled on Y/n —eyes wide, a mix of surprise and uncertainty flickering in her expression.

"I’ll stay," he repeated softly, the words almost foreign on his lips.

Y/n blinked, as if she hadn’t truly expected the offer to be taken seriously. Her mouth opened, then closed, a hesitant smile trying to find its place.

"You don’t have to—"

"I know," Peter interrupted, the corners of his mouth curving into a faint smile. For once, the weight of obligation loosened its grip, and he allowed himself to simply be. "I want to"

Peter pulled her into a hug, holding her as close to him as possible.

He wrapped his arms around Y/n, his movements unhurried, as if savoring the quiet rebellion of staying here a little longer. The embrace was firm yet relaxed, neither dramatic nor fleeting, just enough to feel the steady rhythm of each other's breathing.For a moment, time seemed to hold its breath, allowing them to settle perfectly into the comfort of each other's presence, unspoken gratitude passing between them like a gentle current.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

"So, you usually don't want to, is what you're saying-"

"You're unbelievable"

[fireandiceland]

drabble time!! this is inspired by a conversation I had with @esperjester and @arternestkirkland over in the usukus lounge.

Here's a little usukus in the context of CanWales and ScotFra dragging England along to their couples activities 🤭

🇺🇸 ~ 💚 ~ 🇬🇧 ~ 💙 ~ 🇺🇸 ~ 💚 ~ 🇬🇧 ~ 💙 ~ 🇺🇸 ~ 💚 ~ 🇬🇧 ~ 💙 ~ 🇺🇸 ~ 💚

“England?”

“Huh?” The addressed nation lightly shakes his head. He had zoned out completely and stared at the plastic clip of the ballpoint pen in his hands that was about to break off- oh. Nevermind. The pen clatters when it drops on the table next to the broken off clip.

Before England can answer France, who looks at him expectantly and way too cheerfully - making England knit his brows together in a frown -, Scotland takes over the conversation. “Franny asked if yer comin’ for brunch this weekend,” he clarifies, shooting his brother a reprobative look.

“Of course he’s joining!” England turns his head to his left where Wales apparently made the decision of his participation for him. “Right, England?” Wales wants to make sure while putting one hand onto England’s arm, squeezing most amicably. If he wasn’t his brother England would have shooed him off already.

“Oh, I’m-“ England scans the people around him, all waiting for a Yes from him: France sitting in Scotland’s lap on his right, Wales sitting way too close to him on his left side, Canada leaning against the table next to Wales and smiling while observing the scene playing out in front of him.

It’s not as if he doesn’t like hanging out with his brothers and their partners, but always being the literal fifth wheel, being surrounded by happy couples talking about their couple’s things and being all lovey-dovey with each other while trying to enjoy a big breakfast… It’s not the most enjoyable sometimes, being the only single among his taken brothers.

“Hey guy! What are you talking about?”

The muscles in England’s shoulders relax the moment he hears America’s voice. As annoying that voice could be in certain moments, this was not one of them. He rolls his shoulders once. He had been more tense than he thought.

America chimes into the conversation, into the group, without any regard for Scotland’s scowl and France lightly swatting his arm, smile as bright as ever. He puts his hands on England’s shoulders, leans into him from behind and just one gentle rub of his thumbs into England’s shoulder blades makes any leftover tension disappear entirely.

“We’re just making plans for the weekend,” Canada teases, knowing exactly what his brother is going to say.

“Awesome! Can I join?” It’s barely a request. America’s tone and flashing smile don’t allow for anyone saying no, paired with eyes shining with a light of excitement no one dares to dim.

England almost lets a smile slip onto his lips and is glad America is behind him. If he had to look at that silly smile and brilliant eyes of him, he knows he wouldn’t be able to keep himself from grinning like an absolute buffoon at the prospect of America joining the double date he was supposed to fifth-wheel.

“You really want to spend your Saturday morning having English breakfast with two of my brothers and the frog?” England asks, but the question is more of a statement not demanding an answer. He cranes back his neck to look at America and there it is again: that goddamn lopsided smile that makes his stomach flutter. Who allowed America to be this bloody adorable?!

“And my brother!” America adds with a wink at Canada, voice loud and cheerful as usually before it turns a little more quiet and he looks down at England. “And you… right?”

The butterflies in England’s gut take off again, making him feel almost nauseous. He is lost in the image of a triple date in front of his inner eye for a moment – Canada and Wales, France and Scotland, and… and America and him.

“Yes,” England confirms eventually and reaches up to touch America’s left hand on his shoulder, “I’ll be there too.”

The contact between America’s hand and his only lasts for a second, but he can feel a little squeeze confirming America noticed how grounding his presence is to England.

England doesn’t enjoy being the fifth wheel to his brothers and their partners, but a triple date might not be so bad with his America there.

[werewolfbneimitzvah]

Listen i was definitely being a little humorous up there and was also thinking of throwing in a "try picking up a published book and get an idea for how often they use just the names and pronouns even with two or more people with the same pronouns," but what the hell, i can just show you. Here's a page each from two edited and published books i had nearby with two people using the same pronouns interacting on the page. Text transcribed in the alt text.

Look that second one is a good example because there is some referring to of the doctor as "the doctor" even though there's his name there too but there's a difference! Both because of the emotional distance between the POV character and the doctor, compared to the guy he's with in the second part (who he's fucking, unlike the doctor), but also the doctor's identity as a doctor is extremely directly relevant to the scene because they are discussing how a guy they know is doing after a nasty accident. The age differences between any of these people (and there's a big one, since some of them are vampires), their physical traits, etc aren't used to refer to them because you don't need to and that would distract everyone.

And at no point in the first one are either of these women referred to by their physical traits (and there's a very easy difference since one is a redhead and one is a brunette), their age difference (one is notably younger), or even their different statuses in their team other than Phoebe bringing it up in dialogue (Grace being the captain of their soccer team). They aren't brought up both because Grace isn't acting in her capacity as the captain while they're talking about her injury and flirting, nor are their physical traits or age directly relevant to the scene beyond being attracted to each other, and there's intimacy here between them (because they fucked and will fuck again). If Phoebe wasn't as intimately close to Grace, and there was a scene where Grace was directy addressing the locker room or even just Phoebe while acting in her capacity as captain, THEN it would make sense for there to be something like, "The captain scowled at Phoebe," or whatever, like with the doctor thing.

Look I'm not saying never ever do it, you can do it sometimes, the bisexual vampire hockey one definitely did use "the other man" at one point, I saw it when I was looking for a page that was all people using the same pronouns but was also SFW/didn't have anything too weird and specific to the book (though the fact that it was used sparingly enough that it didn't stand out to me until i was actively looking says a lot I think). in fact you can do anything you want forever and you can ignore me and everyone else who makes posts about this and people will still rightfully leave you nice reviews thanking you for your work that you're sharing with us for free. Thank you, that is very nice of you! For real! And I'm not claiming these books are the height of literature, because they're definitely not. I am not reading these books because they're the height of literature. But you really really really can use names or pronouns way more than you are. I promise. It is not boring, it's good. Please. Please. please no more pop quizzes in fan fiction please please

okay thank you for your time i love you bye

Please just use characters' names and pronouns please please please you don't have to say "the mage" "the older man" "the taller" please you DON'T you don't you don't just say their name or pronoun i KNOW it feels boring and repetitive to you who's writing it but it is an entirely different thing to read vs write something. You are making the reader have to interrupt their thought process to remember which character is older or taller or has a different eye color or whatever and this knowledge is not automatic the same way the NAME is. The name fades into the background, it isn't anything. I appreciate that you're trying and you're writing and you are giving me something beautiful to read i love that i love that you are doing that I've done writing too i know how hard it is just please please understand that you are making it harder for people to read and enjoy your work when you are including what is essentially a pop quiz in your work about what traits a character has. I'm sorry but you are giving me a pop quiz. You are. I'm sorry. Please i know it's hard i know PLEASE. thank you i love you

[yandereshingeki]

peaks head in through door. hi what I miss

[gaybearwedding]

hi hi hello i have been gone forever due to various reasons such as “work” and “mental illness” and “having developed a kpop hyperfixation that has been occupying most of my attention recently” but i need everyone to know that i saw off book live twice last week (in philly with a friend and then in nyc with my girlfriend) and it was truly so everything. i didn’t get many pictures but i did get a few and none of them are very good but one of them is of jess’ amazing stool balancing act and that’s all i need really

[renrenlady]

“Don’t you ever miss being a child?” “You had so much free time as a kid!” “You’ll never experience a Christmas class party again” no I absolutely do NOT miss being a child. Your childhood and my childhood? They do not equate. Our experiences are not fucking universal. I don’t know what kind of childhood YOU had but if I woke up one day and found myself 7 years old again??? I would jump off the fucking roof. What do you mean you want to be a kid again? Like what do you MEAN? It certainly can’t be what you think it means. Listen. Right now I can order Wingstop Parmesan Garlic Tenders with as much Blue Cheese Sauce as I want with my OWN money and NO ONE can give me shit about it and I can DRIVE MYSELF there. Hell I could walk myself there! Do I miss being a CHILD? Do I miss existing as a being with no autonomy and at the mercy of adults who should know better? God know. Fuck no. I love being an adult. I fucking love it. Life started for me at nineteen. Every day I wake up absolutely PUMPED that I survived that batshit insane period of my life. If you genuinely wish you could be a child again, you’re doing something wrong with your adult life now.

[chihuahuawashere]

AAAAHHHHHHHHHHH HONESTLY?????

I WASNT EXPECTING SOMEONE TO REPLY THAT FAST I LOVE IT!!!!

I want to think that master fu tries to be in denial at first that the butterfly miraculous can still do that I’ll like to believe he knew all along and /hoped/ that lb/cn would come to the conclusion faster but then again their like canconcally 13-14 so in this AU I want to bump up their ages to maybe s1 their 15 and each season they age up? Because I refuse to believe that from s1-s5 their like still 13-14 so I want them to get older and really feel the pressure of their friends being gone for years and when everything ends and everything and Hawkmonth is gone I want them to be 18-19 so their whole teen years have been filled with horror basically.

In the beginning of s1 in cannon they teased one another when one of them got akumatized but now I really want marinettes to start not trusting one another near the the end of the s1. I mean that whole class got akumatized like there was no tomorrow near the end all the teasing has stopped completely. Make it even /taboo/ to even mention the names of the akumatized victims who disappeared. It feels like the more you think about your lost ones the faster you’ll end up like them.

I want the other classes of students in that school to be afraid of even /walking near/ that room, kids making up rumors about how that class is “infected with them” to the point no one is talking to them- pointing and staring at them and avoiding them like the plague. Hell even the teachers are afraid to teach those students. But little do they know their helping them feel more isolated which in turn causes more even more akumas.

On another note I absolutely love Alya urging people to be more happy. It becomes a mato at this point where the news catches it during early s2… so bascally all of season one was COMPLETELY normal until like half of the kids are gone and near like the last 3 episodes of season1 that’s when people are realizing and starting to worry about all of the missing people but ALYA IS A SMART FUCKEN GIRL 👏 👏 👏

I want her to me on top on all of this, yes your right at first the ladyblog was about lb/cn and “omg we have Heroes is Paris now but after awhile it becames a memorabilia of all the missing citizens and how/why/when/where/who it actually is some cases help the police get leads since the police have so much rules and regulations to follow. HELL NOT ALYA. So the police support her 100% percent on this they just als her to be careful.

But yea that all goes to waste wjen she becomes an akuma and Paris has like a week of silence for her I think? And with that master fu eyes are finally open and it like “shit I guess I can’t keep ignoring this” and actively seeks Alya out. By the time he gets there she’s just on stage one with the mood swings and she documenting /everything/ all her symptoms her thought processes her body temperature E.V.E.R.Y.T.H.I.N.G.

When master fu comes to pick her up she basically looks like this

I want a mater fu and Alya team up and that where your idea come into play! Since master fu caught her so quickly before any damages can happen to her so their quick to try and make a cure. Master fu basically tells her everything she needs to know about the miraculous in exchange of her going silent on the ladyblog.

After about a couple of weeks of Alya being gone the public kinda turns on lb/cn because their also just as confused and in the dark as the citizens and there’s still no show of any of the missing people returning so they all of course- think of the worse. And how can blame them something so truamatic happens to their loved ones a fucken masked man took over their mind/body completely changing them and after then shit themselves inside their rooms terrifyied to even leave it then they go missing!!

The solution at the time was the jewels that lb/cn where giving out but that only /delayed/ it for a bit. Probably like 2-3 weeks before stage one of the mood swings and with the people who get akumatized more then once weelllllll I want to make a whole different post about that in honesty more detail becuase I have something for Chloe, Lila and pigeon man so you just gotta wait 😉

But again sorry if this feels rushed I’m writing all of this before work!! So sorry for the misspellings and grammar and yes you can write about this as long as I get credit I want to see your ideas on this au as well I’m excited that you like this so much!

I watched MLP as a kid and sadly was one of the victims that got scared out of their minds when watching it on YouTube and clicked baited into watching those scary trauma inducing MLP videos.

But i blocked those out of my mind for the longest of time until i want back into it more years later reading all of the infected aus and it kinda me wondering. What if instead of infected MLP aus it was MLB?

Now stay with me, what if HawkMoths akumas infected the akumatized victims into slowing becoming monsters? Like at first okay you get akumatized and that’s okay because ladybug and chat noir will fix you in a day and yes that’s true but after that your mood feels different like you can never /truly/ be happy it’s like there’s a cloud or fog in your mind and you think your just obviously just going through the motions of what just happened.

But then you start to feel a little different, the primal instincts in your gut is telling you that something is going to happen and all your mental alarms are ringing like crazy but at this point it’s been a couple of weeks after your “accident” and nothing bad really happened aside from the normal akumazited victims that’s came after you.

So you feel like you shouldn’t be /too/ worried but after awhile it truly feels like your not in your own skin on top of that your intrusive thoughts become more and more louder. They’re so /loud/ and different from your other thoughts that you think someone else is in your head it feels so out of place that it genuinely scares you.

It’s not just that “oh f**k it let’s shave your head” no it’s so horrid and gruesome that your scared of even leaving your house in fears of hurting someone at that point it might be a month in since the “accident” and again nothing really changed in the world so you really think your going crazy but no.

Because now your body is literally physically changing. -like for example let’s use Nino since (after looking it up) he was the first akumatized victim. After going through the mood swings body aches and paranoia thoughts his skin is starting to change, he’s eyes are getting sucken and with black rings around it, (he thought it was because of the lack of sleep) but he also sees his face is a tab bit blue? But his chest looks red? And he’s hands and feet are turning black he chalks it up to his paranoia and locks himself completely in his room, he has alittle brother and doesn’t want to hurt him with aggressive his thought are getting.

The next time he looks into the mirror he’s arms and legs and stomach are swollen like they’ve been stung by a thousand bees and the different colors of blues yellows reds and blacks all more apparent now his body aches all the time and feels like it’s on fire even breathing feels like there’s fire in his lungs at this point it’s just straight up body horror. His skin is trying to recreate his akumatized body. And at this points It’s hard to even strung thoughts together to even come up with that conclusion on his own now all he feels is rage. And for what? What’s the reason for all this aggression?

He doesn’t know it’s just pure white hate in his mind and thought and at this point he’s to far gone. He can’t go to anyone for help.

(I honestly don’t know how he’ll get find out maybe by his parents worried why there sun hasn’t left his room or his little brother being curious of where his big bro went or many even Adrien checking up on how is friend is doing)

But I know that with all the other akumtized victims designs they’re body horror will go crazy and more and more of Marinette and Adrian’s classmates will going missing after their akumatized moments and the rest of the class plus the school PLUS everyone in Paris will be paranoid and making conspiracy theories on where they went and who’ll be next as tension rises in Paris (which ironically lead to more akumas) while even more pressure lies on Ladybug and chat noirs shoulders and the citizens of Paris are now aggressive towards them wondering what happened to their kids/loved ones and why is this happening.

Either way I’m gonna end it here I wanna hear your thought and ideas and expand further on this becuase I think it’ll be really fun to talk about it might even turn into the apocalypse they also went to china and New York. Sorry if there’s misspelling or bad grammar and I made all of this in a rush but hopefully you all like this idea! I don’t really know what to call this au other than infected MLB au so please interact/talk to me so we can all have fun and expand this AU further !

♥️

[call-me-pup2]

Everyone say good job pup!

[theflyingfeeling]

yes it's just me whining about the same thing for the billionth time, pls just scroll past nothing new to see here 👋

[altruistic-meme]

sigh.

[lightblueminecraftorchid]

My roommate and I had a conversation last night and I keep rotating it in my brain and I Don’t Like It