.°○ I swear Wheelies on A03 will be finished at some point, whether or not its before I have another life changing thing happen - up for debate.・°
♥︎ Lvl: 21 ♥︎
A little about me!
You can call me Rouge, I have a chronic disability called Myalgic Encephalomylitis and like to write things that typically include chronic issues as I never really see them represented. My husband and I stream together over on Twitch. My favorite book is The Fault in Our Stars, but a close second is The Guinevere Deception and The Ship of Theseus.
I'm mainly using this as a place to provide updates for my stories on A03! However, I will be also posting whatever one shots I write up here!
CFS stands for Chronic fatigue syndrome, though I don’t like anyone calling it that, since it suggests that it’s just feeling a little tired.
It’s so much more than that.
Symptoms manifest differently for everyone, but the one hallmark symptom everyone experiences is PEM.
PEM stands for Post-Exertional Malaise.
Post-Exertional Malaise is a severe worsening of symptoms after even minor physical or mental effort. It can last from days to weeks, and in some cases, it can permanently worsen a person’s baseline.
For people with milder or moderate Me/cfs, it might be triggered by things like walking, showering, or concentrating for too long. For people with severe Me/cfs, even turning in bed, speaking, or light sensory input can be enough to trigger PEM.
For me, Me/cfs means waking up some days unable to feel my limbs or parts of my face.
It means constant dizziness and lightheadedness—I haven't experienced a world that isn't falling under my feet since July 2024.
Brain fog so thick I can’t form a single clear thought.
Being in pain every second of the day—it’s always something that hurts, whether that is my limbs, my head, my stomach, or my throat.
Light sensitivity so bad I can’t leave the house without sunglasses, even when it’s raining outside and everything is cloudy. Screens become the enemy, even on the lowest brightness setting.
I lost my ability to walk, to sit up, to hold my own head up most of the time.
Full body spasms that hurt like hell and don’t ease until my body decides it was mean enough now.
It means having to give up my education, even though I only had three weeks to go until graduation.
Me/cfs means being scared to exist, because you never know when it will get worse.
And much more.
Getting diagnosed with Me/cfs is not easy.
For me, it took years of constant doctor visits, tests, and being sent away without answers. Again and again, my symptoms were dismissed, minimized, or explained as psychological.
It took three years before I finally had any clarity.
Three years of knowing something was seriously wrong in my body, but not being taken seriously enough for it to be properly investigated.
That’s a very common experience for people with ME/CFS. Because it’s still widely misunderstood and not widely known, many patients spend years without diagnosis, or are told it’s “just stress,” “just anxiety,” or “in their head.”
“Maybe it’s depression, have you tried drinking water, exercise more!”
And that delay matters. Not just emotionally, but physically—because managing ME/CFS early can affect how the illness progresses.
I was mild at first, now I’m mostly bedbound. On good days, I can go outside into the garden in my wheelchair for five minutes, but after, I pay for it greatly.
For the future, I hope that people with power will start looking into finding a cure. Right now, Me/cfs is incurable.
But I don’t believe it will always have to be that way.
It does halfway exist! I'm sorry for the long delays between the updates and now. I got very stressed every time I sat to write and have been coxing the story like a scared cat. 😅
isn't it insane though how schizophrenic people are viewed as violent and dangerous by the majority of society when in reality schizophrenic people are nearly 14 times more likely to be on the receiving end of violence than to be the perpetrators...
1) schizophrenia hardly ever causes people to be violent so schizophrenic people aren’t more likely to be violent than anyone else
2) schizophrenic people’s autonomy is often taken away from them because of their schizophrenia. because the authorities and mental healthcare providers often automatically assume schizophrenic people to be violent, they’re more likely to immediately react to schizophrenic people's symptoms with violence, without even knowing for sure said schizophrenic person was going to be violent. all of this causes schizophrenic people to be more likely of being victims of violence and abuse. schizophrenic people also have a harder time getting out of abusive households because of the risk of their autonomy being taken away. if a schizophrenic person’s relative or partner is abusive, often the schizophrenic person has no way out of the situation, both because our disconnect from reality can result in us being easier to manipulate, and because the system is built in a way that it takes away our autonomy because of our condition.
also schizophrenic people and psychotic people in general, please do a lot of research before picking a provider for your own sake, and if they try to treat your psychosis in a way that you think is harmful then don’t hesitate to switch providers. your safety and wellbeing should be a priority over everything else.
Hi there! I'm looking to find people to write with and create longer form stories with. I tend to write with more details and paragraphs, and am a fan of planning ahead. I'm interested in writing for fandoms such as My Hero Academia, Haikyuu, Spider-Man, and Transformers (perhaps Stranger Things, although I have only read fics). If you're interested, please let me know, I would love to write with you.
[image Description: a tweet from Yemen Relief and Reconstruction Foundation. It reads: “Please support our work in #Yemen. World Food program suspended aid to 9.5 million people in December. Over 16 million people are food insecure”. There’s a link after the text to “Yemenfoundation.org/donate”. Attached is a photo of a pile of bags and cartons, presumably full of food. End ID]
"Write," I muttered to myself snappily. Despite my mind being filled with a century's worth of ideas, I could hardly find the words to translate them into stories. Let alone have a solitary idea for where I should take my current story. "Write," I muttered again, this time louder than I'd previously intended, catching the attention of Ratchet.
"It doesn't write for you," Ratchet quipped from his workstation, grumpy as ever. I knew logically that his tone wasn't directed at me, rather a project that he was working on. However, in my sour mood, logic had been thrown out the window, and this was obviously a grump with me.
Pursing my lips together, I held back a snappy comment about technology and that it probably could with text to speech or AI. Nevertheless, I stayed quiet, bubbling with my frustrations that eventually popped into the sad relief of disapair. It was better than the alternative of anger and saying things I shouldn't, but it never seemed better as I slouched into the couch.
After a brief moment, I finally spoke up, "I know," I said while sighing and rubbing my eyes tirelessly. "I just can't write. I haven't been able to for months. I've tried, but the story I'm writing feels disconnected from the other chapters, and it's been months without an upload!" My frustration began to bubble again towards myself, "the one-shots that I've come up with, well I can't find a way to write them. I have these ideas, but they're all crazy, and how do I even begin to put them down to paper? Or detail the events that lead up to that point, Ratchet? I just can't write," I cried out, grateful that it was just us in the base.
Taken aback by my sudden declaration, Ratchet stared at me for a moment before shaking his head. He wasn't upset by my outburst or believed it to be silly (to a certain point). He'd heard every human and/or bot snap and cry out in displeasure at some point, and he was familiar with it within himself. He also understood the frustration of having blocks in work. "It'll go away, give it time," he told me in response to my simple problem.
"It's been months!" I reiterated tirelessly. It was becoming overwhelming, I had so many ideas with no way to release them. Every time I tried to write, it was all wrong; too many details, too little detail, wrong word, wrong sentence, it makes no sense. It was dreadful.
Hanging my head low between my knees, I gave up. I couldn't possibly find the right words to describe what I wanted to say. The soft clanging of his footsteps trodded over, stopping as he stood by the human loft area. I didn't bother to look up. "Tell me a story." He said, a careful softness to his voice.
At his words, I lifted my head in confusion at the request, "What?"
"Tell me a story," he repeated. "You've always described writing as telling a story. So, you talk, get out of your own way, and I'll scribe." He explained, his usual grumpness now back in his voice as he described what he thought was fairly obvious.
Although I would be willing to give it a try, I grumbled to myself, "I'll just pick it to shreds like I always do." The words wouldn't be right, or a sentence would be wrong. The tale would be garbage.
Ratchet rolled his eyes, closing my laptop with the tap of his finger. "Probably, but you could give it a try," he reminded, "a try not taken, is a chance unlived."
With a sigh, I nodded my head and crossed my legs while turning to face him. "Well... I suppose so... there was once a town..."
Peter Parker/ Female!Reader
cw: Violence, reader gets hurt, hurt/comfort, a bit of angst, fluff.
lower-case intended, not edited
can be viewed as any spider-man, but i personally imagined ps4/ps5 peter
what had started out as a regular saturday, with you and peter swinging through new york like any typical patrol around the city turned into something much more than either of you were ready for.
green goblin had escaped from the raft and was causing mayhem within the city, fires and ominous clouds of smoke and ash begin to engulf the city. and here you and peter are trying to get people to safety as well as deal with the goblin.
"Go after him! I've got the civilians!" peter whips his head to your direction, about to argue and say that you both need to stick together. shaking your head "I've got this go! I trust you spider-man!" your tone is final and peter reluctantly leaves you to pursue the goblin.
watching his retreating figure you focus your mind onto what's in front of you. webbing up unstable buildings, pulling people from fiery cars and rubble. stopping for moment to catch your breath you realize that this area is finally okay enough for you to leave it as first responders finally make it to the scene. using your in-suit tracker you quickly find peters location and hastily begin swinging your way there.
getting to peter your eyes immediately catch onto his much more battered form, there are cuts across his chest and through his emblem. but he seems to have the upper hand- having cornered goblin into a abandoned area of construction. quickly shooting a web you swing in, landing a harsh kick to the goblins face.
an enraged roar leaves him as his mask is flung off-wobbling on his glider. Then you see two webs sticking to either side of the goblin, and just as you see those webs you see peter slingshotting himself feet first into the goblins chest. the concrete behind him cracks and the goblin tumbles to the ground, his glider crumbling along with him.
with the goblins figure staying slumped upon the ground both your and peters shoulders slump in relief and exhaustion. then the sound of police sirens filter into the air as dozens of cop cars pull up, ready to detain the menace. "I have some of the anti-serum for him, its not permanent but maybe it'll help with keeping him in custody." peter voice is tired, as he makes his way over to you as you both scan each other for any lethal injuries. nodding you head you watch as peter begins to head towards a vial that was resting upon the ground. you suspected it had gotten flung out of his hand while he fought with the goblin.
then your senses begin screaming at you, BEHIND YOU!
you barely make out peters terrified scream of your name before the disgusting crazed green eyes of the goblin look up at you from the ground with one of his miniature bombs in his hand. then its dark.
~
the familiar sound of air whooshing past your ears along with searing hot pain across your abdomen is what wakes you from your sleep. "pete?" your words are moaned out in pain and confusion. "yeah its me- just hang on we are almost to the hospital. just stay awake for me please." your heart clenches at how desperate peter's voice is, you can do nothing but nod and bury your head further into his chest- hoping that the pain would go away if you did.
peters feet thump heavily into the ground when he finally lands in front of one of the hospitals in new york that was getting not as flooded with survivors from the attacks. and your heart clenches again at peter voice shouting out for help, "i need a doctor, please!"
there voices start to fade out, you catch how peter voice is a near roar as someone tries pulling off your mask. and it sounds like that person is then shoved away by what you assumed was dozens of nurses, he tells them to leave on your mask- but it sounded more like a command. the softness of a bed greets your back, peter having set you onto a gurney. nurses are putting an iv as the quickly roll you further into the hospital- eyes lids growing heavy you succumb to the sleep, hoping that when you awake the pain will be gone.
~
peter's pov.
if not for the mask every one within the waiting room would see my tears flowing feely down my face.
god how did i not realize the goblin wasn't knocked out, why didn't i web him up- how could i be so careless!?
and now you were in the operating room, were i hoped with all of being that you would be saved. looking down to my hands that lay limp to my sides i see- your blood smeared into the red of my suit. biting my lip to snuff out the sob that threatens to escape me. why wasn't it him who got hurt? why was it always someone else taking the blows for him?
i don't know how long i just stood there staring down the hallway that lead towards the operating room with you in it. but eventually the doctor how had pushed away that asshole who tried taking off your mask earlier- and had quickly let me know that he would be operating on you- made his way towards me.
quickly walking towards him, his face isn't sad or drafted instead a hopefully expression takes up his face. "she's ok, no major internal injuries surprisingly, but she has a bunch of stitches and will need to stay here for-" i don't let him finish before i'm tugging him into hug, "thank you, i don't- i, just thank you so much."
a soft laugh leaves the doctor, "with what you two do for this city everyday, there's no need for thanks. i should be thank you both for all the good you've done for this city and its people." stepping back from the hug a chuckle leaves me, "i guess we're at an impasse doc... but um- where is she?" he quickly gives me her room number, then i'm running there.
getting to your room, i see you. sleeping peacefully with your mask still covering your face, walking closer towards the bed i sit down in one of the spare chairs within the room. grasping your hand into mine my body finally begins to lighten as all of the accumulated stress begins to pour off of me. and with the comforting sound of your steady breathing i let myself drift off.
~
reader pov.
its been a few weeks since the goblins attack upon new york, his final one- with him succumbing to his wounds after setting off that miniature bomb. most of my stitches have been taken out and there only remains a very small scar from that day. and with the city repairing itself me and pete have taken a bit of a break from spider-maning... mainly because i needed to recover and peter hasn't want to leave my side. which i'm not complaining about but i can see how much that day hurt peter, though with each day that passes i see that darkness lighten.
and today i continue with that goal of lessening that darkness, having slept in with peter cuddled in your shared bed. gently i brush my fingers through his soft brown locks, "good morning pete." he buries his head deeper into my chest, you can feel him smile against your skin. "i think we are well past morning." an ouch leaves him with my pinch against the skin of his shoulder. "so technical." my tone teasing, a soft kiss is place against the side of my neck as peter raises his head to meet my gaze. beautiful hazel eyes that hold nothing but adoration within them. "good morning." sleep still hold onto his voice making it a bit huskier than normal, his plush lips are planting a sweet kiss against mine.
eyes instinctively shutting at the all to familiar sensation of butterflies within my stomach as my heart relishes in our shared affection. pulling away i bring my hand to his face, caressing his skin.
"i love you, so much peter." a radiant smile blooms across his face, "I love you too." looking into his gaze i'm pleased to find that some of that darkness has nearly disappeared. "you doin' okay pete?" he raises his eyebrow at my question, then lowers when he realizes what i'm asking about. "yeah.. i just- i nearly lost you. and i don't know what i would do if i lost you."
"i know i cant promise you but i will try with everything i have to never let that happen again." peters warm and muscled arms wrap around my torso pulling us chest to chest, with no space between us. "and i'll do the same for you, i never want you to feel what i felt that day."
and with those words peter buries himself further into our embrace, where we both lay relishing in each others presence. warmed by our bodies and the rays of the sun shining through our bedroom curtains, as we stay encased in our plush comforter.
a breath of relief leaves me, brain becoming flooded with peters comforting scent as my heavy heart lightens at our declarations to one another. together we would fight to make sure that both of us came home, make sure that we would have the rest of our live together and not apart.
(omg i just went into a crazed writing spree for like 2 hours, i wrote this at 4am-5am so sorry if there are parts that don't make sense. Hope you enjoyed this :D )
I would love if you could write maybe r hurting her knees and him kneeling to patch her up. maybe r not having the best experience with people touching her but trusting him:))
I hope you are having a good day/week/month!! and absolutely no pressure to write this
I was literally otp with @formulafics when I found this in my inbox and so excited. So cute!! Thank you for the request!
“It hurts.” You whimper pathetically. Peter watches the way you flinch at his fingers sorrowful.
You sit on the bathroom counter of his small apartment, scraped and bruised from a fall outside the spinning doors. You hadn’t seen the skateboard swish past you, and the owner hadn’t turned his head to check if you were okay. His doorman helped you up, embarrassingly, but Peter seemed to have been down the stairs before you could step off the lobby rug. He leans over you know, hands on the counter, head down inspecting the bloody skin.
“Can I touch it?” He murmurs, looking up at you. You stare at him. “I just want to help.”
Your eyes are puffy, a sight from crying, and your nose aches from the way you rub it. You’re sure it’s not the prettiest sight he’s ever seen, and a small rumble of embarrassment vibrates in your belly. You nod anyways.
“Are you sure?” He pushes. You know he wants verbal consent.
“Uh uh.” You frown, tapping your fingers against your knee. “You can.”
“Ok.”
He bends down onto his knees, eye level with the aching scrapes you adorn. Peter sucks his teeth sharply. “This look like it hurts.”
“It does.” You whisper, and Peter feels stupid for the basic observation.
“Can I clean it?” He looks up at you. “It might sting a little.” He’s honest with you. “But it’ll make them feel better.”
You nod, suddenly embarrassed for the show of emotions, feeling little under his stare like a hurt child.
“I’m not trying to embarrass you.” He frowns, like he can read your mind. Suddenly, he laughs like he knows he’s startled you, groaning as he pushes to stand again.
Peter’s got problems with his knees, they ache and creek like an old man’s, but you don’t know what’s could’ve caused that so early in the boys life. They pop as he fully straightens them and he smiles at you, laughing a quiet “Felt good.”
You swallow a smile at his goofy expression.
“Yeah, you can clean them.” You reiterate out loud.
“Perfect.” He beams at you, dancing out the bathroom to earn your smile. He yells from the other room. “Doctor Parker’s over here!”
You wipe your nose quickly before he shows back up. “You didn’t go to med school!”
You hear his disgruntled scoff from the hallway.
Popping back in the bathroom he delights in your laugh. He pulls his hand from his back like a magician, letting tissue float down over his fingers. “A tissue for the lady.”
“Thank you.” Your small laugh is watery as you take the tissue, dabbing your wet cheeks.
“Don’t mention it.” He quips, dropping back down onto his knees to inspect your knees.
“You can’t keep putting so much pressure on your knees like that.” You murmur.
“I always bounce back.” He smiles. “Let’s see” He glances up at you. “Can I?”
You nod, letting him take the back of your knee into his warm hand. The antiseptic burns, something Peter is very apologetic for, and the bandaid tingles, but you’re happy with the light touches Peter graces your leg.
“All done.” He jumps up, using the hands you give him as leverage. “All better?”
“All better.”
“Are you sure?” He drawls with a smile shining towards you. His fingers wiggle towards your stomach teasingly. “Don't lie to me, baby.”
“I’m not.” You giggle, shoving your fingers in his.
“Okay.” He grins. “You better not be fibbing.”
You laugh out loudly. “I’m not.”
“I’m not.” He mimics, pushing away the hands that his him to kiss your lips. His hands work their way down to hold your waist, bracing you to jump off the counter. “Ready for blastoff?”
If you happen to stumble upon an ad that looks like this, DO NOT SCROLL DOWN.
The rest of the ad is a very tall GIF of strobing red light that can potentially cause seizures. You cannot scroll past this ad quickly enough to avoid seeing it.
There seems to be no way to report the ad, so the next best thing is to use an adblocker (if you haven’t already) or even stay off the mobile app.
