#but my energy was just all wonky

[epickiya722]

I fucking love my new theme.

[quintessential-candles]

I really wanted breakfast :(

[malhare]

I'll get to the other readings tomorrow, thanks for being patient with me!

[tvrningout-a]

gonna try to write later tonight!! but forgive me if i’m absent from the dash bc i’m feeling anxious today 😔

[laskume-dragon]

Watercolor practice and Illustrations for my fic :]

[kittykatinabag]

I am allowed to be upset without having to qualify it.

I am allowed to be upset without having to qualify it.

I am allowed to be upset without having to qualify it.

I am allowed to be upset without having to qualify it.

I am allowed to be upset without having to qualify it.

I am allowed to be upset without having to qualify it.

I am allowed to be upset without having to qualify it.

[music-for-them-asses]

I know 30 isn't really old (maybe by Tumblr standards it is) but it's so hard to know what to do with my life!! I hate my job but I needed it to pay off my student loans. I got a fine arts degree that caused me so much burnout I couldn't even make art for fun for years. I don't want to go back to school but I HATE working for corporate America and I want out. But I still have to support myself and I need health insurance for all my shitty disorders. I crave structure but after college the only structure you have is what YOU make and Jesus Christ I'm so tired. All I can focus on is getting through each work day to get to the weekend. I feel like a hamster on a hamster wheel unable to escape.

[kyunsies]

good morning my lovely friends i worked 3 days and today i have a break but i work 3 days in a row again starting tomorrow i’m so sorry for being gone 😭

[rascheln]

fighting for my life in photoshop

[luveline]

Hi Jade!!! I love, love, love your writing. I was wondering if you could write something for Tsam Peter x reader where reader has a concussion and Peter is just generally super sweet about taking care of them? I have a concussion right now and I feel like he would be so sweet about it. If not feel free to ignore this, love you!!! <3

i love u!! fem!reader, 1k

You’re shivering again. Peter looks up from his book suspiciously, squinting at the curve of your where you’re laying on his couch. He should let you rest —you’re allowed to sleep with a concussion, despite what some might think— but he doesn’t like the shivering. It’s weird. 

“I'm coming, baby,” he says, standing up from the armchair to situate himself by your hips. 

Peter pulls the blankets more firmly to your chin. “Are you cold, bub?” he asks. It might appear that he’s talking to you while you’re still sleeping, but the smile you give when he talks proves otherwise. 

“No,” you force out in a mumble. 

“Are you sure?” 

It takes you some time to think about it. Your body’s been thrown for a loop since you hurt yourself, but you’re healing nicely, and your mental stamina is yards better than it had been. Peter asked you yesterday if you wanted a kiss and you couldn’t answer him for a full minute, and when you did it was an uncoordinated lift of your chin. You’re still in there, still his girl, just mildly incapacitated for the time being. 

“I might be,” you decide. 

Peter grabs a throw from under the coffee table and shakes it out over your arms and shoulders. “There. Need a drink?” 

“Do you?” you ask. 

“What?” 

“You’re asking me lots of questions,” you say, slowly, quietly, but not without character. “I thought I’d ask one back.” 

“I don’t need anything.” He tilts his head to align your faces, leaning in, not quite close enough to kiss you. 

“You look very serious right now, Spider-Man.” 

He glares for show. “So serious.” 

“Sorry I can’t really make you a drink.” 

Peter wipes the glare. “I’m sorry you got hurt. I don’t care that you can’t be my serf right now. When you’re better I’m gonna work you twice as hard, that’s all.” 

You raise a tired hand to his jaw. You’re extra careful to offset your wonky hand, stroking a clumsy but tender line from his ear to his chin. “Can you help me up?” 

Peter doesn’t question you. You’ve been recovering for a few days (he hasn’t realised before your injury that some people can take months to get better after a head injury, even without blood clots or fractures) and he’s not felt the urge to baby you beyond waiting on your every whim and want. If you’d like to sit up, that’s okay. The only thing he’d insist on is getting enough sleep at night, and thats something you’ll do happily. 

“Can I give you a hug?” he asks, his eyebrows pinching up at their starts. “I hate seeing you shiver, it makes me sad.” 

“Makes you sad?”

He squeezes your elbow where the blankets have fallen down. “Is that surprising?” 

You want to trade jokes with him but you can’t summon a retort, and your smile quickly fades. It can’t be nice, feeling a shade of yourself. Peter’s heart aches for you twice. 

“C’mere, pretty girl,” he says, slipping his arms under yours, encouraging you to wrap your own behind his head or let them rest behind his shoulders. He loves hugging you like this, almost lifting you, spider strength begging to be used as you sigh and settle into place against him. You feel a little like a shell of yourself, not quite quick with touches, fingertips twitching against his shoulder blade as he nuzzles his face against yours unabashed. “There you are. Where’d you go, huh? I was about to send out the search party.” 

“I’m right here.” 

“Yeah you are. Lucky me, right? Luckiest guy in the world.” 

You sigh happily beside his ear, your face pitching slowly downward until it’s pressing against the curve of his neck, your arms slipping down his front as you run out of energy. He doesn’t mind, bundling you up with no intention of letting you go. 

“How do you feel?” he asks. 

“Still fuzzy, like… it’s like we’re talking to each other through a screen door.” 

“Do you need something? Or want something? I’ll get you anything.” 

“I’m fine.” 

He lets out a sorry sigh. He wishes you’d want something, god knows he’d love to put a smile on your face. If you were feeling better you might ask him to go and get you something for dinner from across the city, or beg him to find you a bunch of flowers (which he’s always willing to buy). But sick, you ask for nothing. You just lay on the couch and wait to get better. Peter doesn’t think it’s super fair. 

“I’m sorry you’re not better yet,” he murmurs, his lips drifting down to your temple, which he kisses weakly, the barest brush of his lips. “Wish I could take it from you.” 

“I’ll be okay soon.” 

“I know you will, but I still wish I could take it. It’s shitty.” 

You think about this for a while. “It’s not shitty,” you work out finally, hand curling against his waist in a tired display of affection. “I have the… best boyfriend ever looking after me.” 

“I’ll be here until you’re better, you know that.” 

“I know.” 

Peter ushers you back and lifts your blankets, slotting himself next to you with a careful arm held behind your back. You show some surprising excitement at the offering of a cuddle and work under his arm, shuffling down the couch to leave you both laying on the same cushion, blankets uneven but warm over your chests. “You should probably go back to sleep,” he says. 

“Nap with me?” you ask, endearingly hopeful. 

He turns his face, intending on drawing lines into your cheek with the tip of his nose until you either fall asleep or can’t take it anymore. “Sure, baby. I bet you’re exhausted, huh? Let’s sleep.” 

He falls asleep before you, breathing snores into your cheek. You have enough wits about you to laugh, and then you fall asleep, too. 

[birdofmay]

"What words are there to describe the situation when I suddenly can't speak anymore?" - Masterlist

If you suddenly can't speak/struggle to speak:

losing words

losing speech/speech loss

no mouth words

out of words

speech loss episode

situational speech loss

going/being silent

becoming/being unspeaking

verbal shutdown

verbal crash

low/weak verbality

Coined by @witchy-fennec :

demi-verbal:

Handle with care (because it can be misunderstood easily as it reminds of selective mutism, which under no circumstances should be mixed up):

autistic mutism

Some general words:

low words

no words

speech averse

voice averse

speech pause

being/becoming voiceless

being tight-lipped/tongue-tied/close-mouthed

being verbally uncommunicative

being untalkative

being tacit/taciturn

If you want to express that you only use nonverbal communication to communicate:

communicating nonverbally/using nonverbal communication - NOT being nonverbal, that doesn't refer to you using nonverbal communication and is something else entirely ☝🏼

If you want to express that internally you're really struggling with speech atm, but you're able to force yourself to speak:

masked-verbal

If you can't speak anymore and can't make sense of language anymore simultaneously:

losing language

If you could speak theoretically, but simply choose not to do so (or to speak less):

word resting (for example if you want to save energy)

choice verbal

on vocal rest (well-known, likely won't raise further questions)

Words by @carpsstuff :

despeechify - when verbal communication begins to slow or shut down. example: i’m about to despeechify, can you hand me my tablet so i can use my app?

larynx laziness - you want to speak, but for whatever reason but at that moment you cannot. example: i am feeling some hardcore larynx laziness, because i really want to use my voice but ugh! i just can’t!

talk tired - being temporarily unable to use verbal communication due to physical, mental, or emotional exhaustion. example: i am so talktired right now, it’s making it hard to speak.

untalkable - being unable to speak in that moment for an indeterminate amount of time due to neurodivergence. example: i am pretty untalkable right now, so i’m using pen and paper to communicate.

voicebox variable - your level of speech capability varies from time to time. example: i am voicebox variable.

wonky worded - saying things like up when you mean down, or left when you mean right, or yes when you mean no, like your words are getting mixed up somewhere along the way from your brain to your mouth. example: i am seriously wonky worded right now, everything is coming out of my mouth all wrong.

Some newly coined terms I find really cool by @archival-arrival , might especially be interesting for those who aren't autistic (definition in the linked post):

nullvox

tacevox/tacetvox

siovox

siofoni

ochifoni/chorisfoni

ochilogia/chorislogia

pagofoni

pagolexei/pagologia

[astroboots]

Issue #6

COLLABORATED WITH @THIRSTWORLDPROBLEMSS

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader

Summary: You and your unfriendly neighborhood Spiderman wind up far from your usual neighborhood and you need to find a way to leave before it's too late.

Word count: 2,600 words.

Series Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist | Astroboot’s Masterlist | thirstworldproblemss’ Masterlist

[Previous] [Next]

Your home is gone. 

Everything is gone. 

All you can see is white. A vast, empty space surrounding you, blank and endless as far as the eye can see. 

You suck in a surprised breath, already flinching because you expect a place so white and sterile to smell like sharp stinging disinfectant, but to your surprise it's the opposite. It smells of nothing in here.

“Mierda!”

You turn at the sound of his voice, and find Blue-Spiderman behind you.

“Shit!” he growls out. His hand comes up to his hair, fingers fisting into the poor strands as he starts tugging at them in frustration again. “Shit, shit, shit!”

“Wha– What happened?”

There was a helicopter, you think… darkness... a loud noise... the wall of your apartment exploding into a cloud of dust and rubble.

"Did... did a fucking helicopter just crash into my apartment!?"

He ignores your question, opting to fidget with his wristwatch instead, swearing and muttering to himself, while you try to make sense of what’s happening. 

“And… And then…” And then the otherworldly light show. At the time, you thought you were dying, but you’re clearly not dead. You’re just… someplace else. “What is this place?”

“We weren’t supposed to end up here,” he says, ignoring your question once again. He smacks at his watch repeatedly before swearing again and then leaves the poor thing alone.

“Come on.” He unceremoniously grabs your arm and starts marching forward, dragging you along.  He seems to have some destination in mind, though you don’t know how he can tell left from right in this expanse of nothingness, let alone where to go.

“Wait, wait,” you protest, “Where are we? What is this place?” Maybe if you repeat yourself enough he’ll finally give you an answer.

“We have to get out of here. We can’t waste time.” There is no pause in his steps, he marches on as if he’s expecting you to calmly accept the situation without further explanation.

"Can you please just stop for a second and tell me what’s going on?!" you say, digging your heels against his strength to try and stop him for even a second. 

He takes a deep breath, nostrils flaring with anger and irritation. “We’re in an interdimensional fabric where the interstitial domain emerges. It’s void of any discernible quantum fluctuations or energy-matter manifestations, constituting an absolute absence of existence or spatial-temporal coherency and–”

He’s still talking, throwing out a string of convoluted science terms, one after another in quick succession, but all you hear is an endless stream of jibberish. 

His words seem strangely far away, like your ears are plugged or something. You raise a hand to rub at one of them, then at your forehead when that doesn't make the sound go back to normal.

Normal. Ha! Who even knows what "normal" is for this place anyway. Everything since you left your apartment has been so bizarre that you're not surprised your head feels a little wonky.

And there's something weird with your hand too. You pull it back from your forehead and hold it in front of your face, staring at it.

Strange. The tone of it seems off, somehow. Opaque and lighter in shade then you’re used to. Almost like it’s fading.

It's only when he moves to stand in front of you that you realize you can see the red and blue of his suit though your hand. The whole of your palm is turning translucent.

“Shit!” he spits out and steps forward, grabbing and yanking your hand towards him as he inspects your palm.

Whatever he sees clearly doesn’t make him happy. His mouth is at an angle of irritation you had not thought was physically possible before.

"What's your name?" he demands.

"You know my name!" You scowl, tired of keeping up this farce, you know he knows it, and you're not playing this game with him. 

His annoyance seems to grow deeper. “Yes, I know your name. I'm asking if you remember it.”

What kind of stupid question is that!? Of course you remember your own name. What a condescending jerk! Does he get off on making everyone around him feel like an idiot?

Your name is… it’s... it's... uhm…

... huh.

The first syllable of your name is on the tip of your tongue. Your lips shape the sound, but nothing comes out because you don't remember what vowel comes next. Or what comes after that.

Your name... Why can't you remember your name?

“I–I don’t...” you hesitate, blinking in confusion. You don’t understand. How did you forget something so simple? “I don’t understand what’s happening. Where are we?”

“I just told you where we are,” he bursts out impatiently.

You wince at his words. God, he did explain, didn't he? You just... can't remember what he said. You know he used a lot of science-y words… Is that why you can't remember what he told you?

 “Look, it’s been a rough day. Can you explain it to me again, please, but like you’re talking to a 5 year old?”

In front of you, his expression softens ever so slightly, and he takes another deep breath before continuing more calmly.

“We’re in a space between worlds,” he explains, this time in plain speech, thank god. “It’s a void. Nothing exists here. If we stay too long, we won’t either.”

“Okay, but what am I supposed to–”

“Think happy thoughts,” he orders with a testy bite, which is not at all very helpful in making you think of happy thoughts.

“What, like think of a joke or…?”

He scowls at your question, as if it wasn’t a perfectly reasonable question to ask in the circumstances.

“No. Close your eyes and think of a happy memory. Something important. And personal. It’ll keep you tethered to your physical body,” he says, and despite the terse snappiness that remains in this rude man’s voice, you don’t put up a protest.

You close your eyes, trading out white for the black behind your eyelids. You try to form a memory—any memory—but nothing comes to you.

“I can’t think of anything,” you say, as worry starts creeping into your chest. You don’t understand why something that should be simple is so hard to do all of a sudden.

Then you hear his voice in the darkness.

“Think of someone you love. A day you spent together, or if you can’t think of something, then just think of their smile, or the color of their eyes,” he continues, and with each quality he lists out to you, there's a warmth that leaks through the hardness of his voice.

In your mind’s eye, a memory unfolds pixel by pixel. One of your favorite childhood memories of going camping upstate with your family. You’re wearing a pink ball cap, and your parents are standing by the tent, watching as the family dog runs up to you with a soggy tennis ball in her mouth.

Your mom is smiling at you as she waves from afar, gentle and patient. Her eyes are squinting against the bright sunlight, but you can’t remember the color of them. 

Gray hazy mist invades the edges of the memory, eating into the vivid colors, the picture distorts until the smiles of your parents morphs into a faceless blob.

Your eyes snap open, and you can’t keep the panic out of your voice. “What’s happening to me!?”

You don’t remember… You don’t remember what they look like. Who they were, you can’t–

“Hey, hey” his voice snaps you out of the fog, His warm palms come up to cup the apple of your cheeks, face mere inches from yours.

“Stay with me.”

And you're trying, you really are, but the panic is already here. Eating through your veins and crawling under your skin with an itch that won't go away.

“I– I can’t– I don’t–”

You can’t feel his hand anymore. Can’t feel your cheeks either. Can’t feel the clattering of your teeth from your trembling or the hard beating of your heart in your chest.

“I don’t remember her eyes.” Your fingers clutch onto his arms, but no matter how hard you dig in with your nails, it sinks into nothingness,  “I don’t– My mom. I– I don’t remember her name, her face, her–” 

Your feet seem to have fused to the spot you are standing on. They feel heavy and weightless at the same time. You try to move, but can't. Your body is no longer listening to you, and you’ve forgotten what it’s like to coordinate your feet, for the right foot to take a step forward and have the left one follow.

“Lyla,” he tells you, thumb smoothing over the apple of your cheeks, and you can feel the rasp of the rough calluses on it. “Your mom’s name was Lyla.”

The panic subsides at the familiar name. 

Lyla.

Your mom's face comes flooding back, the way her eyes would crinkle at the corner when she laughed, the proud smile she wore at your high school graduation, the soft sound of her voice singing you quiet lullabies as you drifted off to sleep.

“She used to make the most disgusting mac ‘n’ cheese, and whenever you’re sad, it’s all you want to eat,” he reminds you and your mouth tingles at the memory of the thick layer of dripping cheap cheese, scalding hot on your tongue. 

You adjust your grip on him, and you can feel the texture of his suit under your fingertips now. Your fingers aren’t as numb anymore, neither is your face. 

“Food worked, huh?” The corner of his mouth tugs into a half smile, eyes soft as he gazes down at you. “Figures.”

He leans down, hunching over until his forehead rests against yours. “You know that pizza place down on Downing street that you always go to the day before payday? With the gross doughy crust and kimchi topping that you love so much? Think of that.”

You can picture it clearly. The brick brownhouses, the familiar waft of oven-baked dough, and hint of coal burning, and slowly but surely, your stomach warms at the thought of it. 

“Think of those ugly pink fur slippers you wear constantly at home when it gets cold,” he says, and you do, gradually become aware of the soles of your feet and the weight of your own body being held up by them.  

He goes on like that, listing off things about you. The way he talks about them is almost insulting, but there’s an undertone of fondness hidden underneath that you can’t make sense of. He describes your favorite cozy sweater, calling it “ratty”; your favorite corner of central park that he thinks reeks of piss; your favorite episode of Grey’s anatomy, the one where Cristina has to get cut out of her wedding dress, which you always watch when you need a good cry.

The sound of his voice seems to shiver through you, the warmth of it settling low in your belly.

The more he talks, the more you remember, memories bleeding back into your consciousness. The simplest things come first... The sensation of running your fingers through soft fabric. Stepping barefoot into grass on a summer day. What it feels like to want someone.

And, as he continues to talk, awareness of your body comes trickling back until you're acutely conscious of his forehead pressing against yours; his hands, big and gentle where they're wrapped around your upper arms; the heat radiating off his big body inches from yours as his deep voice lists off all sorts of intimate things about your life, things he has no business knowing. 

Control of your body is returning to you. You can blink now, even if it requires conscious effort, and you blink up at him as he pulls back to look down at you.

“You back with me?” he asks softly, one big, warm hand rising to cup the back of your neck in a way that makes you lightheaded.

You tip your head ever so slightly until you catch sight of your hands, now totally opaque instead of that eerily ghostly sheen, and you nod back at him. 

“I– I think so.”

“Good.” 

You’re still a little bit frazzled. Disorientated by the whole experience that it takes you a while longer to gather your thoughts together. 

You still don’t know where you are. You don’t know what the hell just happened. Or what this place is supposed to be. Calling it a ‘void’ doesn’t really explain as much as he seems to think it does. How on earth did you just lose control over your body like that? Why did your body literally start to disappear, fading into the nothingness? 

A chill trickles down your spine as you recall the lack of sensation, and you grip his arm underneath your fingers just a little bit tighter to remind yourself that, yeah, he’s still here. 

It makes you feel just the tiniest bit safer. 

With one arm still wrapped around your shoulders, he brings his other wrist to his mouth and speaks into the watch. “Lyla, have you got a lock down?” 

Huh? Lyla? What is he– You don’t understand. Wait, is he talking to your mom? What does he mean he’s locking down your mom!? 

There’s a crackle of static in your ears, and the endless white gives way to a burst of color as reality reforms around the two of you. A wall of masonry appears brick by brick before you, nothing but blue clear skies above. There’s a crunch of gravel on the concrete tiles beneath your feet, and when you look down to your right, you see the New York skyline below you. The bird’s eye view of the city is familiar. It’s one you’ve seen many, many times before. 

You’re on top of the Chrysler building. 

For a second you panic at the height. You clutch onto the man who has once again saved your life, and he lets you, holding you steady, with one big palm resting on the small of your back. 

“You’re okay,” he says, shushing you until you relax in his arms. “You’re okay.” 

You stay like that for some time, held in the safety of his arms, until your heartbeat slows, until the pulse racing in your throat is no longer in a clustered lump and you feel like you can breathe and think again. 

And now that you can think again, your brain is racing a mile a minute. All the things that have happened… All the things that this man said to you to bring you back to yourself. 

Things that no one except for you would know about. It’s too personal and intimate. Even if he had somehow been stalking you, he wouldn’t know these things unless he has been stalking you from childhood. The things he knows about you only comes through years of being with a person. Your habits. Your likes. Your dislikes. The things that upset you. The things that make it better when everything else has gone wrong. He knows all these things about you that he really only should know if he’s known you for a lifetime.  

"Who are you?" you ask him again, pulling back slightly to stare up into those blood red eyes inches away from your own, "Who are you really?"

"My name is Miguel O'Hara,” he says, holding your gaze, “and I’m Spiderman from another dimension."

~ Next

Dedication & Credits: To my sister clown in arms @thirstworldproblemss thank you for putting up with me since this series started, I have been bugging his poor woman every second of her waking day. Please give her all the love because I couldn't do this without her or even if I did, I wouldn't have 1/100000000000000000 of the fun I have now with her.

[alllgator-blood]

I gotta post this quick and hop off for the day, but I LITERALLY STAYED UP ALL NIGHT *AGAIN* TO MAKE SURE SHAMURA GOT FINISHED. They're pretty crinkly in some areas because I have to like manually fix their crown + spider butt thing + spider legs after moving them, and I just didn't care enough to retake the photos. I like the wonkiness of them because I just wanted them to have the energy of like, a very old and well-loved scrungly creature

I wanna slam some energy drinks and do like an ask doodle marathon soon because there's some great ones in there I haven't gotten around to, I think I'm done sewing for the time being so heket + leshy + narinder will have to wait to be brought into existence

I did NOT end up doing their extra spider legs on their torso because they kept getting in the way. Honestly one of the biggest concerns for me was figuring out how their body would work because I've never like...though all that hard about what shamura looks like under their cloak? I was debating making their body like mystic seller's where it's just void and space, then I remembered a really old hc I have where the bandages you see under their cloak in their eldritch form are like a binder, so I was torn between both and somehow chose neither. I'm gonna be retouching all the plushies I make eventually so maybe I'll end up doing one. I have an olldddd comic where they're pressured into taking their cloak off and it's just like eldritch horror that melts your face like that indiana jones scene. I would post it but it's VERY graphic lmao

Also shoutout to my cousin for beading me the asexual + nonbinary earrings in the third-to-last pic, every fuckin person in my family can do epic beadwork except me apparently >:( I am a FAKE FAN of my OWN CULTURE. I'VE BEEN TYPING TOO LONG I GOTTA STOP EVERYONE IS WONDERING WHERE I'M AT BUT I NEEDED TO POST THIS!!!!!!

[dianneking]

The Affair - Chapter 1 (Larissa/Reader)

Hiya! As part of my weekly writing challenge, I wrote this chapter over two writing sessions, and I chose not to wait for the fic to be finished before posting. It'll probably be a couple of chapters all together.

Pairing: Larissa Weems/You Rating: Mature

Tags: Morally Ambiguous Character, Swearing, Boss/Employee Relationship, Infidelity, Second-person POV, Teacher Reader.

Link to AO3 in the title

Next Chapter >

The Affair - Chapter 1

Waiting in the snow for a married woman , you thought, moodily pulling your scarf up to cover your freezing nose as yet another car passed, how the fuck did my life come to this?

You had never been one for thrills in life. If anything, you had been pretty boring: you’d always liked English class at school, always got straight As, never stepped a foot out of line. You never felt the need to, nor the appeal of being rebellious. You’d gone on to get a bachelor’s degree and teacher’s certification, and then you’d gone on to teach English in a string of small town schools.

There was only one aspect out of the ordinary in your life up until now; you could never settle down in one place.. You felt a restlessness, a pull towards something you still hadn’t found, and after a couple of years in a place, it inevitably built up until it was too strong to resist. And so you packed your bags, applied for a job somewhere else, and started anew. 

You didn’t think Jericho would be much different. Small town, 5 thousand inhabitants, only spots of interest a tacky historical reconstruction site and a school full of outcasts. The same one you had applied to. Nothing much to offer. You’d give it a year or two at most. 

You didn’t really care about the fact that you were teaching outcasts. They might drink blood or howl at the moon or whatever in their spare time, but they were teenagers that had to learn to write a proper essay just like anyone else. You prided yourself in your work ethic and told that to the board when they interviewed you. Apparently they appreciated that. Or there was nobody else who had applied. There had been some accidents during the last school year, apparently. The board had repeated several times that it had been a one-off and it had been taken care of definitively.They had all seemed very defensive about the topic. 

Once again, you shrugged it off. You had no time to waste on rumors and things of the past. The school had its quirks, sure, but all schools had, each in their own way. You settled in your quarters on the school grounds, and started reviewing your lesson plans taking into account the notes left by the previous teacher. You settled in for your usual routine of lessons, tests, marking that you were familiar with by now. 

And then she barged into your life, throwing routine and predictability to the wind. 

Even with your aversion to gossip, you’d heard about her. Larissa Weems, the best principal Nevermore had ever had, mysteriously injured in the line of work, supposedly trying to protect the school, and hospitalized for months after that. When talking about her, voices dropped to a whisper out of respect - or fear, you hadn’t been able to ascertain that. 

The day she had come back, you’d have thought royalty was about to visit the school, with the amount of fretting, of preparations, of nervous energy filling the halls and rooms. You’d had to let your classes work on assignments because they had been unable to listen to one word of what you were explaining. You had rolled your eyes in the privacy of your room. Seriously, you’d seen plenty of disruptive principals in your years of teaching, but one who could be so distracting even before she had set foot back in school? That was a first. 

You felt obliged to show up as well to the welcoming committee. The whole staff was there, as well as the student body. Some had even prepared signs, and there was a white banner draped along the balcony on which was written, in red paint, a very wonky Welcome back Princ. Weems . 

It was cute that she was so beloved by her school, you thought, but you were also thinking of how to recover the day of missed lessons, and how to optimize the next days’ so as to go back on track. You tried not to be too miffed about it. 

All of the thoughts of lesson plans and all of the lingering irritation at them being disrupted fled your brain at the sight of the first foot stepping out of the car. Shiny, varnished black shoes, showing off a milky ankle, and a shapely calf that look longer than any you’d seen (not that you made a point of looking at women’s legs all the time, but sometimes your eyes did wander…)

The skin on show was sadly cut off below the knee by the modest hemline of a woolen dress and it was at that point that Nevermore’s principal exited the car in all of her towering beauty, and your mind went completely blank, cause in all of their gossip everyone in Nevermore had forgotten to mention a small, key detail about the principal.

She was stunning. 

The most beautiful woman you’d ever seen was standing before you, waving and smiling regally, as the whole school cheered. You almost didn’t notice all the jubilant ruckus, your eyes too busy raking all over her figure, as if trying to commit every single detail to memory. Her slender, elegant hands, wrapped in leather gloves. The perfectly-tailored coat, in the same fabric and color as the dress. The sparkle of her gold jewelry in the pale winter sun. The perfect proportion of her face, the way the bright red lipstick brought attention to her smile.

Her light eyes were roaming all over the crowd, as if taking stock of known faces and new entries. Finally her gaze fixed on you, and you could see a spark of amusement flicker on her face at seeing you.

You belatedly realized that you had been gaping at her like a fish out of water.

The day after you had still been beating yourself up about the humiliation at being caught slack-jawed staring at your boss when she visited you in your classroom after you were done with the day’s lessons.

She rapped against the doorframe, but strode in before you could say anything. You scrambled to your feet, awkwardly, while she covered the distance from the door to your desk in a couple of long steps. She was wearing another dress today, a tartan dress with a belt that cinched her waist, underlying the shape of her hips and chest while still being completely work-appropriate.  

“So you’re the new teacher they have hired to replace poor Collins.” It wasn’t a question, but you nodded anyway. “I’m Larissa Weems. Usually, I have the final word on new hires. The board does a wonderful job but sometimes they lack a certain sort of practicality in their assessment of candidates, as it happened with the last hire. I wasn’t convinced by her spiel, but the board insisted and…well. I should have trusted my gut instinct.” Her eyes grew distant for a second, before focusing back on you with a hard gaze. You could see the speckles of lighter and darker blue mixing in her irises, and the perfectly applied make-up that highlighted their natural beauty.  You tried to shake yourself out of her charm. She could be trying to fire you, and you were busy ogling her! That’s not the kind of person you were! You cleared your voice, trying to think up something to say to help your case.

“I…”

“I know you have been hired already, and I am sure you are a perfect fit for the role. I’d just like to have a little chat together, nothing too formal, just getting to know each other a little bit better.” She smiled as she said that, and while you were sure it was supposed to be a polite smile, you couldn’t help the shiver that went down your spine at that. 

She looks like a predator closing in on prey , your mind unhelpfully suggested. 

You swallowed, suddenly conscious of your sweaty palms and increasing heart rate. 

“O-of course, ma'am." was all you could meekily say. 

"Perfect." she purred. "Meet me at seven sharp at the Lilac Lounge. I'll have a private booth reserved."

To be continued...

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[espiepuffs]

Valentine’s Day Hcs!

Headcannons of how you celebrate and spend Valentine’s Day with your partner!

Characters: N, Shauna, Hop, Kieran, Carmine!

Note: Happy Valentines to those who celebrate it! I made some head cannons with my favourite characters, but I won’t be taking requests for Shauna or N yet!

N - Ferris wheel ride

For Valentines, be prepared to be out and about for most of the day!

He’s been practically everywhere in Unova. He’s not going to go to places with plenty of people there, oh no.

He’s going to take you places you’ve never seen before, places so remote that you can be sure that they’re only known to the two of you.

This man is so thoughtful too, he’s only going to take you to places that he knows for sure that you’ll like.

I can imagine him taking you to a really pretty flower field to take a look at all the Lilligant and Whimsicott frolicking through!

He would also try and make you a flower crown but he hasn’t made one in years.

(He fails horribly, silly goof.)

By sunset, the two of you get to Nimbasa city, and although it’s crowded, he leads you to the Rondez-View ferris wheel together.

On the ferris wheel, he’d sit really close to you as well, he’s a sucker for physical contact and touch.

After that he’d hold your hand and talk about how he loves spending time with you, and how he loved today.

He’s good with words too, he’ll say it in the most poetic way possible, but it doesn’t sound cheesy, though you wouldn’t care if it was.

And at the very top of the ferris wheel, with the sunset on full view, he gives you a quick, sweet kiss on the lips! How romantic!

It’s a perfect end to a perfect Valentine’s Day!

Shauna - Fireworks

Shauna’s so excited for Valentines, she’s about to bust your door down the moment she gets to your house,, don’t worry, she’s just really excited to go on a date with you today!

The two of you go all over Lumiose city together! You both decide the places that you want to go together, you don’t really have anything planned.

Valentines with her seems like a bit more of an outing than a date, but that doesn’t make it less enjoyable or romantic in any way.

Shauna is a very outgoing and bubbly girl, and the sort of energy she carries around her is able to make any experience with her 10 times better!

You start by going to a cafe together and eating Poképuffs together. Even better, they’ve been doing Valentine’s themed foods there and she gushes over how adorable they are!

After that, you pretty much walk through the entire city together. There’s so much to do!

A lot of shopping is done. It’s a case of her finding something cute on a shop window and her dragging you in. It’s super fun to see the different things in store, Lumiose has so much to offer!

You take walks down the avenues and boulevards, as well as the plazas!

Although it doesn’t sound like a lot, these activities took up most of the day. Lumiose is a ginormous place…

But there’s one more place that she’s adamant to take you to!

It took a little while, but she takes you to a place called the Parfum Palace! It’s a public museum, and she’s got a surprise for you there!

She takes you to a balcony, where you and her stand together.

She can barely hold in her excitement, and she’s elated when fireworks start shooting off! She’s bouncing off the walls, and you can tell how happy she is when you feel how tight her hand is gripping yours!

The fireworks are gorgeous, no wonder she was so determined to bring you here. It was worth it, seeing all the beautiful Valentines themed patterns, and the colours to go with them!

Shauna does her best for valentines, and although it may be quite an exhilarating event, it’s a romantic event that the both of you won’t ever forget!

Hop- Gorgeous sightseeing

Happy Valentines! I hope you like travelling and sightseeing, because Hop is taking you to the best Galar has to offer!

Sure, the weather in Galar is wonky with it being rainy one day, stormy the other- and a lot of it is filled with ruins- so what could you find romantic about that?

Hop has been all through this wretched region, he knows the best places to take you for a day as special as today. As long as you’re up to it (you are) he’ll be taking you to the prettiest places there!

Although he’s put an incredible amount of thought in for the places to go, he can’t help but feel normal as the two of you converse on the train

He starts with Glimwood tangle. Although it’s mysterious, it’s quite a serene place, with not much to be heard apart from the occasional rustling that comes from Impidimp scouring through.

He takes this chance to hold your hand as you stroll through and head to Ballonlea (smart move, hop)!The town itself may not be too romantic, but it’s a pretty sight, right?

He also takes you to Wyndon. It’s a wonderful sight, even though it’s crowded.

You go for a stroll up the gardens, and the two of you look back on your moments together, even way back from when you were just friends.

(If you paid close attention to his voice, you could hear it trembling slightly…)

He’s got one more place to show you after you finish a lap around Wyndon, and he hopes he can make it work!

It takes a while to get there, having to go from Wyndon all the way to Postwick was time consuming, but you have each other!

On the train ride there, you end up leaning onto Hop’s shoulder, and he gets so flustered!

The two of you have been dating for a while, but he still never fails to grow warm under your touch. He ends up leaning onto you too.

The two of you head inside the slumbering Weald, making sure to avoid the Weezing and Musharna floating about so that you could get to your destination quickly.

You’ve arrived, and at this point Hop puts his hands over your eyes. When he opens them, you’re met with the gorgeous sight of an altar, well hidden by the trees, and the sun gleaming down at the waters.

Hop also had matching bracelets to give to you- the two being your favourite colours with some other white beads, and a message spelling ‘I love you’ !

The rest of you spend your time peacefully talking together at the Slumbering Weald. Celebrating Valentines with Hop is him making his appreciation to you known in (what he thinks are) the best ways possible!

Kieran- Appletun pie

This is Kieran’s first Valentine’s Day with you, so he wants to make it special and last.

He’s never really been the type to plan and do extravagant things, so he settles for something that he thinks would be fun for the both of you.

And that’s through baking!

Unfortunately, the Apple trees over at Apple hills are far from blossoming at this time of year, but it’s okay! He’s got a bunch of fresh ones the two of you can use!

(His Hydrapple picks out the sweetest apples for him. Even before the two of you started dating that thing has been nothing but a wingman!)

On the day, he’s so happy when he arrives at your house!

He’s got the biggest smild smile on his face too!

“Happy Valentines S/O ! I bought you somethin’ as well :DD!”

He wants this to go as well as possible, he brings some choclate too!

Anyways, the two of you use an Appletun apple pie recipe, it’s a pie that looks plenty similar to the aforementioned Pokémon!

He’s a noob at baking too, but that does make it fun, right? If you can bake? He’s happy that there’s some experience to tag along! If not? The two of you fooling around makes it plenty enjoyable!

Speaking of fooling around… FLOUR FIGHTS >:)))

You’d probably instigate it while you’re waiting for the pie to bake in the oven, but that does not mean that Kieran is backing down in any way!

Kieran’s a competitive guy, even though you may not know it. And in some cases, his friendly competitiveness goes beyond battling on the BB Academy courts!

He’s going to reach over to smear it on your face and leave handprints on your clothes. The two of you were throwing it all over the kitchen, and boy, was it fun.

Kieran’s Hydrapple was downright terrified though. While the two of you were having fun, this poor dude was imagining the possibilities of Carmine coming in…

(She did peek in the kitchen and see the two of you fighting and she was absolutely fuming. She was about to give the both of you a piece of her mind, but even she saw how much fun the two of you were having. She must’ve felt merciful, because she left you two alone despite being livid at the mess. She was just glad to see Kieran happy in love :))

The timer for the pie goes off, and you eventually clean the kitchen to the best of your abilities. He has a spare washcloth that he lets you use to wipe the flour off where you can. Just have to hope nobody else notices the flour!

After, the two of you split the Appletun pie so there’s some for his family and some for yours!

Kieran thinks he left a memorable impression for a first Valentine’s date, and he hopes for many more!

Carmine- Late nights

Carmine would probably have a sleepover with you. But it’d be an event where the two of you go all out!

Carmine is the sort of person to do so. Going on an outing around Kitakami just isn’t her thing.

When you show up at the door, she’s got everything for the night.

Movies? Face masks? Board games? Checked right off!

She’s even decorated the living room for the occasion, taking her red blankets and pillows all down so the two of you’re cozy.

She’s so excited to spend time with you! What do you want to do first? She suggests wearing face masks while watching the all the movies she’s got to watch!

Carmine also loves physical contact, she gets super cuddly at night. For tonight, you’ll be her stuffed animal while you watch beauty and the ultra beast.

The two of you had tossed on face masks while watching the Princess and the Froakie, and all of a sudden you hear a loud yell and it’s none other than Carmine’s brother, Kieran!

He knows what a face mask is but he always gets so startled when he sees his sister wearing one…

Carmine shoos him away as soon as possible so the two of you can continue watching the movie!

Carmine is a little pouty after that mishap, but she’ll be fine.

The entire night is just a sleepover for you to focus on each other, and Carmine loves that. She loves spending time with you, and you staying over at hers is what she loves the most. She loves Kitakami, and there are good places for romantic outings, but to her what could possibly be more romantic than staying at home with your partner?

And whatever you’re doing, you should play with her hair, brush it or style it in any way you want. Carmine adores it when you do that to her, she feels so close with you!

(You enjoy it too, you’re able to get a full view of your girlfriend’s face, gazing warmly at yours.)

When you’re all settled down for the night, you and her have late night talks. She’s so in love, she could talk ti you about the most mundane things ever and she’d still look at you with the most lovesick look on her face.

Also, more cuddles, yay! She’s a big spoon, so prepare to be wrapped around her!

It’s a pretty ideal Valentine’s Day (or night in this case). Compared to the others, you simply get to laze around with your girlfriend while still having fun! And you don’t need to run everywhere!

[writing-for-marvel]

"I dream of you. all i do, is dream of you."

If I Can’t Have Everything, Then Let Me Just Have You

Andy Barber x Fem!Reader

Summary: When Andy gets jealous of you talking with his colleague, you reassure him he’s everything you’ll ever need.

Warnings: age gap and although exact ages are never mentioned everyone is well and truly of age, jealous Andy

Word count: 700

A/N: this is for @nickfowlerrr’s the seven writing challenge - I spun the wheel for the seven deadly sins and got envy. A big thank you my darling friend @flordeamatista, queen of Andy fics, for not only providing the inspiration for this fic, but helping me with writing Andy for the first time and being my constant cheerleader 🩷 banners by @vase-of-lilies

Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Library

Andy hated attending after work functions with his colleagues. He could barely stand dealing with them during the working week, but then to also be forced to give up his Saturday night so his boss could show off the house his old family money had bought him was another level of torture.

You were his saving grace. Part of him felt guilty for dragging the woman he loved along to these grandstanding cocktail parties where you were forced to make small talk with people you didn’t enjoy the company of, but you were also the only person who stopped him from going completely insane.

But at this moment, while he was stuck hearing about how his boss’s fantasy football team was performing, as if he didn’t hear enough about it at the office, Andy saw red as he was subjected to watch Dylan, the office womaniser, chatting you up.

In the back of his mind he knew with absolute certainty that you wouldn’t cheat on him, but the reason his heart clenched and acidic jealousy bubbled in his stomach was because of what Dylan represented: everything Andy couldn’t offer you.

He wasn’t young anymore, he was well aware the prime of his life was past him at this point in time. He had settled into a comfortable routine which didn’t involve a thriving social life which he remembered having with Laurie when they were your age. He was surely not as flexible or had as much energy as a young man fifteen years his junior.

He wanted to be able to give you the world, but all he had to offer was the trauma developed from his tarnished past, which was still following him around like a shadow, his back problems, wonky knee and the remainder of his life which would be distinctly shorter than Dylan, or someone of his age, could promise to spend with you.

The root of his envy was insecurity.

And he was green with envy.

Excusing himself from the one-sided conversation his boss was having, Andy set off with purpose, making a beeline to you, only to find you were already making your way over to him. Relief eased the tension in his shoulders as your gaze found his and a smile tugged at the corners of your mouth.

“Your colleague, the guy behind me, is a creep.” You commented, hooking your fingers through his belt loops and pulling him protectively into you. Andy leaned down and placed a small, sweet kiss to your forehead, not needing to look behind you to know exactly who you were referring to. A sense of satisfaction filled his chest with the notion that you were clearly averse to Dylan’s pursuits.

“That’s not what most young women around the office think.”

“Well he is.” You stated firmly, a look of disgust flashing over your features. “Why does it take me telling him I have a boyfriend to respect that I’m not interested. Why would I want a boy like him, when I already have a man like you?”

Andy smiled, coming to the realisation that he had no reason to be jealous. Perhaps he couldn’t offer you his callow youth, but he did have maturity and experience, which would surely be much more valuable in a devoted relationship.

“You are a dream come true, you know that?” In response to this you scrunched your nose and smiled in a way that made Andy’s heart fill with pure adoration and devotion.

You truly were all he would ever need for the remainder of his life.

“You’re my dream come true too, Andy.” Standing on your tiptoes, arms sling around his neck, you placed a delicate kiss against his lips, neither of you paying any mind to his colleagues who could be watching on. “You’re everything I’ve ever dreamed of.”

Taking a beat to commit the moment to memory, Andy made a promise to himself that he would never take his second chance at love for granted.

“Let’s go home, handsome.” You suggested, tugging gently on his tie with that mischievous grin which always promised a sinfully pleasurable time. “I have plans for us that definitely don’t involve the rest of you colleagues.”