#someone needs to get better at getting out of the house

[alchemistc]

Found this in my drafts and decided to finish it up, written before the Abby reveal so we're just pretending that never happened, have some outsider pov of the alt timeline where Tommy and Buck met before Buck was at the 118.

Tommy is being weird. That's the only way Hen can describe it. He's been quiet on calls, none of the usual banter and posturing she's used to; he's been quiet in the station, prone to staring at the space between his lap and the dinner table even as Chim spouts off some ironic quote that would have had him cheesing it up a few weeks previous; he's been quiet as he packs his shit and heads out for his truck. Each afternoon since he'd quietly announced his transfer to the 217, he's been quiet, and it's weird.

Hen's not entirely surprised. Tommy's nothing if not protective of his own feelings - years and years of Gerrard all hanging over their heads even though he'd admitted a few drinks deep one night that he was pretty positive his professionally scathing complaint about Gerrard was very likely what tipped the scales ("Could have been Sal's, though," he'd said with a shrug as his eyes drifted to the head on his beer.). From what she's gleaned off Chim, there's a good chance he'd been an ass in part to protect himself from feeling too bad about losing someone, too (again) - not that that's any type of excuse for the shit he'd had a hand in putting her through. An excuse for the things he's said, in the heat of the moment, in the quiet caverns of life under a shitty captain.

(Stumbled apologies, serious expressions on a face softened only by the shots he'd been buying all night, words said and unsaid between them and the gaping maw between a Chim happy to accept and move on while Hen downed her tequila and waited for the other shoe to drop.)

It's been years since then. Years and years winding between them all, a dozen captains and more than a few transfers of good firefighters away from the 118, and something good and warm and special brewing in their house with the arrival of the captain who'd made family dinners a daily occurrence.

She'd sort of expected Tommy might finally open up, when those family dinners kept going and Nash kept staying and things started to settle into something closer to friendly instead of the soldiers of war camaraderie they'd grown so used to. And maybe he has, to someone who isn't Hen - who'd taken his little efforts to change at face value and refused to put in more work than that for a colleague who'd made mostly bare minimum efforts post-Gerrard, always accepting the new status quo, refusing to make waves. She respects Tommy. Trusts him on the job, and sometimes off of it when they've had a shitty shift and need to decompress before they go home to the people in their lives who can never really understand losing someone to the heat of a fire, to blood loss and blunt force trauma. Doesn't care for him the way Chim seems to, doesn't really desire a closer relationship than the one they've maintained through the turnover of captains and the 48's they pull on occasion.

But Tommy's being weird, and Hen's pretty sure she's the only one who sees it.

She waits until she's sure Chim has a date to hit up Tommy for an after shift drink, and his eyes crinkle around the corners in suspicion because he knows just as well as she that she's putting them in an awkward position without the buffer zone of an extra coworker to fill in the blank spots of the things they don't say to each other. He'll be gone in a week. There's not a single fucking reason for her to try to get to know him better now.

"Sure thing, Wilson," he says, and when he offers to drive them both Hen makes up some excuse about needing her car in case of some Denny related emergency.

---

She expects it to take a while. Ply him with a few drinks, figure out what it is about Howie that always puts Tommy at ease so quickly when they're out like this and try to replicate it - he keeps things close to the vest but Hen has ways of weaseling things out of people once she's got them where she wants them.

Tommy sighs and picks at the label on his bottle. Thins his lips, and stares at her sideways. "I'm seeing someone," he says, in an undertone, and Hen hasn't even taken her first sip from the bottle he'd ordered for her, too, while she scrounged up one of the smaller booths. His eyes dart, like he's checking to make sure no one else is listening, that no one here recognizes him, and Hen - Hen knows that look. She just can't square that look with Mr. Toxic Heterosexuality himself.

Hen takes a sip. Forces herself not to vibrate out of her own skin because - because - because she's gotta wait this shit out. Could be he's found himself attracted to some weird goth chick, or a woman with meat on her bones, in which case he's in for a big ole smack to the head or one of the looks she reserves for when the boys get a little too caught up in their locker room talk.

He darts his gaze up. Meets hers, steady on, for the first time in...weeks, actually, now that she's thinking about it, and the guilt there in his eyes sure is something to behold.

"He's younger," Tommy says, and Hen rolls her tongue over her teeth so she doesn't do something stupid like hone in on that pronoun with either glee or full-on righteous anger.

Hen narrows her eyes instead, and is surprised that he keeps her gaze. She's expecting - unnecessary contrition, or maybe a ducked head or excuses. He chews on the inside of his lip and chuffs out a self deprecating laugh.

"I don't have a fucking clue what I'm doing and he still lives in a frat house."

Hen's mind goes somewhere inappropriate, and she has to stop herself from making a truly horrible hand gesture because he can't possibly mean -

He rolls his eyes. "I know where to stick it, Wilson, that's not the issue."

She has about half a million questions queueing - things she's not sure they're close enough to ask, things she doesn't actually want the answer to but stick there in the back of her mind anyway, things she'd never ask someone who'd been kind to her from the outset. "How'd you do it?" he asks, and Hen remembers the way he'd stood, arms crossed and face blank and something sad and vulnerable in his face while she lectured from her red and chrome pulpit. Jesus. He's known. He's known a while.

"I've never exactly been passing," she tells him, and winces at the aggression in her voice, in that statement, in the very existence of the idea. He shoots her a bitchy look that's far more familiar, in line with their normal dynamic. It has her rolling her shoulders back, has her sitting up a little more in her seat. "Is that - are you asking me how to come out?"

Tommy shrugs. Tips his head. "You're the one who wanted to get drinks."

"And if I hadn't asked?"

She knows the answer. The dumbass would have transferred out of the 118 with no one the wiser. Probably fallen off all the group chats, squared with himself for however long it took, decided one way or another who to tell from there. But he's here now, talking to Hen. Telling Hen, the person he's probably the least close to.

Hen sighs. Takes a longer drag off her beer this time while Tommy folds up a piece of the label he's ripped off. She's not gonna be his fucking gay guru. They're not anywhere approaching that close.

He could have lied, though, is the thing. Seems like he's maybe been lying for a while, if the uncharacteristic fidgeting is anything to go by. She knows him under stress, knows him when he's walking through literal fire. Figurative fire is an entirely different matter. She doesn't know that Tommy.

The words that fall out of her mouth aren't the ones she's aiming for. "You and Sal." she says, and then bites down the rest of that sentence like it'll burn them both. His eyes dart up. He shifts in his seat.

"The only reason I'm saying a word is because the answer is no," he says, and - yeah that's fair. Everyone has the right to come out of the closet in their own fucking time.

"So this kid," Hen says, moving on, and - oh. There's that look. It's a little dreamy-eyed, the way he's been getting sometimes when he's looking down at his phone and trying his hardest to keep a straight face. "What's the deal there?"

"He's new," Tommy says, and Hen can feel her brow tic up of it's own accord, because he says it with the authority of someone who isn't new. Hen has to wonder exactly how many times the perpetually single Tommy joke had been made while Tommy was less than single. God, that had to have stung, hadn't it? "He's - apparently he didn't realize he was flirting until I kissed him about it."

That's remarkably brave for a man who isn't out to a single person he and Hen are mutually acquainted with. At least as far as she knows - Chim can't keep a secret to save his damn life so at least she knows he doesn't know.

"You know you didn't have to tell me any of this."

His expression is wry. He bites his lip, curls his tongue over his teeth, shakes his head like he's clearing cobwebs. "The transfer isn't the only thing I had on the docket for major life changes."

Karen's gonna be pissed if Hen doesn't get the dirt, she tells herself as she leans forward, so she throws a teasing edge to her voice as she quirks a brow. "This life change have anything to do with your baby gay or is that just a natural progression of the coming out process?"

Tommy's posture eases, just a little. He gives her a look that she's more familiar with seeing when Chim's in the booth next to him, or they're elbow deep in shit-talk at the station.

"Happy accident, actually," he says, and Hen leans in to listen to him dish when his eyes go all soft and gooey.

___

She's known Evan Buckley a total of six hours the first time he mentions his boyfriend. There's a nervous edge to it, like he's still testing the word out, like the syllables are unfamiliar, and he glances down at the phone in his lap right after he says it, like he's double checking something. Hen wouldn't have pegged him for it, for all that she tends not to make assumptions. It's just. He's so.

Hen shoves back against the stereotypical bullshit and throws him a bone, because he looks like he's fucking desperate to share information on the fact that someone cares enough about him to let him call them his boyfriend. She lobs a layup, something relatable about 'my wife, Karen'.

"Yeah, Tommy said you were married."

Hen pauses. Wonders if she can turn her head like an owl so that she doesn't have to shift her weight to look behind her at where Buck is happily washing dishes, elbow-deep in sudsy water. There's no one else up here with them - most of the shift is working off dinner downstairs.

"We never have meals like this at home, I'm lucky if the guys I live with don't steal my last packet of ramen before I can get to it," he'd said, and she remembers Tommy grinning at the memory of this Evan he'd been seeing being inordinately impressed by the fact that Tommy could grill a steak. ("Jesus, Kinard, are you sure you're not robbing the fucking cradle?")

Hen shifts. Eyes him a little more carefully as he turns his head to meet her gaze, and - holy shit, she's actually feeling a little protective of Tommy Kinard right now. "He know you're out here sharing his business?" It's not the tone she's going for - admonishing instead of exploratory, but Buck just grins at her over his shoulder, like he's pleased Tommy has someone watching out for him. Shit. She'd been a little concerned that Tommy was in over his head, stuck up on the idea of being out out and clinging to the first boy that batted his lashes, but it feels like maybe there's more to it than that. She can't square that with what has to be at least a decade of years between them, but -

Love is love, and all that.

"We, uh. We've been talking about it."

Hen raises an eyebrow, because that's not actually a green light to air Tommy's business.

"He - well last night we talked about it again. So. I mean it's not like Facebook official or anything. But he said it was cool to talk to you. A-all of you. He's - everyone at Harbor knows me."

It hurts a bit to know that Tommy's been there less than six months and felt more comfortable being himself with a bunch of strangers, but...

It's good. That he has that. That he's not walking the world just shoving bits and pieces of himself away.

Hen watches him rinse his arms and square his shoulders and shift to face her. "How'd you two meet, anyway?" she asks, because Tommy had been so stuck on the trying to figure out how to have an honest relationship piece that she'd never gotten around to asking.

Buck's expression could be easily mistaken for a solar flare, for the way it lights up the whole loft.

[threeacttragedy]

Entry 17: The One About All the Hot Air

Oh, hey, hey, hey – what is that over there?

No, not that –

That!

Ah, fuck.

Is that what I think it is?

Yeah, yeah, it looks like some sort of hot air balloon.

Ugh, it’s that fucking wannabe Wizard! Get that manipulative shit-fuck outta here!

Seriously, don’t let it set foot on land. It’s not welcome on this side of Oz.

Someone release the flying monkeys! Like, now. Knock it out of the sky.

Wait, I thought the Wizard liked green. This weirdo has a red balloon.

Bitch, I didn’t say it was the Wizard; I said it was a wannabe Wizard.

Oh, no wonder it’s steering that balloon like a fucking clown.

Hell, I don’t even think we need the monkeys. That idiot is going to crash and burn itself straight into the glass walls of the Emerald Palace.

Well, you know what they say when you start throwing stones in a glass house…

It is slightly amusing (and a tad concerning) to me that children are always led to believe that the villain of “The Wonderful Wizard of Oz” is that bitch of a Witch of the West when the worst character traits are actually portrayed by the Wizard himself. And, by “worst character traits,” I mean that he was a master manipulator who conned an entire city into believing he held some form of great power.

Did you know that in the original story the Emerald City wasn’t really that green? Sure, it was made from green glass and emeralds, but the Wizard required everyone to wear green-colored glasses so that everything appeared greener than it actually was. Weird, that. And, even more weird, people bought it! “Here, put these glasses on and you’ll see everything exactly the way I want you to see it.”

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I’m fully aware “The Wonderful Wizard of Oz” is a work of fiction, but the idea that people can be easily manipulated – especially by someone with “power” – is not fiction.

That’s what today’s piece of “hot air” is about – fandom manipulation and the power of suggestion. And who better than to manipulate an entire fandom than the media? It’s unfortunate that I have to give the media power in this story – and even more unfortunate that I have to give it to rag-mags and social media – but the reality is information is power, regardless of whether it’s misinformation. In fact, MIT Sloan did a study in 2018 demonstrating how false information spreads through social media, namely, Twitter, six times faster than true information. Disturbing, right? I don’t even want to know what the going rate for misinformation is in 2025.

And, of course, since I opened today’s story with a visit to the Land of Oz, we may as well take a day trip over to Australia. Remember how I told you Australia deserved an entry of its own? Well, this is it. No, not really. I did say this was a day trip, not a sleep-over, so it’s not going to be chucked full of shiny bracelets or ways to “keep a good girl down.” It’s just our starting point today.

In my first entry, I briefly described what brought me into this fandom. It was something Luke said – and not really what he said, but how he said it – that left me intrigued. He was being interviewed on the Bowral red carpet by “Gretchen from the Philippines.” Yes, that’s literally how she introduced herself! Could I instead refer to the nice lady by her real name (Gretchen Fullido)? Sure, but “Gretchen from the Philippines” is far more fun. Plus, it sounds kind of whimsical. Any ways, Gretchen (from the Philippines) asked Luke if, “in real life,” he’d support friends-to-lovers. Luke’s response was, well, a bit jumbled, which was what sparked my curiosity because his previous answers that day were, for the most part, articulate: “I would – I would support friends – I feel like it’s not something that – that I have in my li – that I resonate with – that I’ve experienced. But, you know, if my – if my friends wanted to explore a relationship with one their friends, go for it. I’ll support it.”

Something in the way Luke answered that question was like suddenly being able to see the forest for the trees. At that moment, I was convinced Luke had always been in love with Nicola, and everything else that went on during that particular red-carpet event (and thereafter) simply christened the USS Lukola. However, that comment by Luke – and a subsequent one he made in New York – would result in the addition of a lot of trees to our enchanted forest.

Now – I apologize – we need to borrow a hot air balloon, preferably one that can travel through time, and jump forward to November 5, London-time. I promise, we will return to Oz momentarily.

Oh, fuck.

What now?

That ridiculous faux Wizard is right behind us. I thought I told you to send in the monkeys!

Dammit, you said we didn’t need them! I left those fuckers back in Oz.

Well, umm, I think we might need them now.

Why??

Uhh, do you see those four-legged beasts on the ground chasing our balloon?

Oh, you mean those coyote-like creatures?

Yeah, but we’re not in the Americas – and those ain’t coyotes…

Ah, here we are: November 5, Claridge’s, London. This was the evening Nicola attended the Harper’s Bazaar Women of the Year awards. We’re only stopping in real quick to steal a piece of the speech Nicola gave that evening. Okay, got it! Let’s get the fuck out of here!

The part of the speech I wanted to share was this: “I did a six-month press tour for Bridgerton, the show which I love, and I’m so proud of. The amount of inappropriate questions I got asked about my appearance, about my relationship…”

Hold up. Relationship? What relationship?

Did she say “relationship” or “relationships?”

Does it fucking matter?

Well, I guess not. But what does it mean?

I could tell you what I think it means… Wait a hot-air-balloon-minute – where the fuck have you taken us? I told you we needed to go back to April 21, Aussie-time. This looks like Soho in January.

Shit, sorry. Let me fix that. Here we go…

>>> 

Umm, hey, where’s that weird little red Wizard? I swear it was just behind us…

Eh, probably got stuck in Soho, hahaha. Guess it missed its exit.

Do you think that’s a good idea?

Yeah, sure. It’ll be fine…

We’ve returned to April 21, Bowral, Australia. Now, at this point in the timeline, World Tour interviews were already well underway. In fact, the first two parts of EmEdits on YouTube are entirely pre-Australia interviews, making up roughly 6 ½ hours of screen time. I’m not the least bit surprised that “Gretchen from the Philippines” asked Luke what his thoughts were on “real life” friends-to-lovers. The chemistry between Luke and Nicola was hard to ignore.

The Australian red carpet also introduced the hand holding, which – if we took another magical mystery tour over to May 9, Italy – Nicola and Luke agreed was a sign of “love.” I suppose I could buy the excuse that one or both had so much anxiety they needed the other’s hand to remain calm on the red carpet. But, nah, I wouldn’t buy that at all – for one very specific reason. When Luke and Nicola were seen leaving (I believe) the Milton Park Country House on April 23, Luke instinctively reached for Nicola’s hand as they were descending the steps. Why? This reflex by Cool Hand Luke was as natural as a pregnant woman touching her stomach. I ask again – why?

There’s only one answer.

It’s the answer that fits with the Claddagh ring. It’s the answer that fits with the side jaunt to Galway. It’s the answer that fits with their natural chemistry, the hand holding, the canned “shared experience” and “unique relationship” responses, the playful sexual innuendos. It’s the answer that fits with Luke’s “the best foundation for love is friendship” bracelet. It’s the answer that fits with Nicola’s remark about “[t]he amount of inappropriate questions I got asked…about my relationship…” It’s the only fucking answer that makes sense.

But, the real kicker is, why don’t people believe that is the answer?

Why is it so hard to believe that Luke and Nicola could be in a real-life relationship?

That’s easy – because the Man Behind the Curtain told us so.

Who is the Man Behind the Curtain? Well, that’s also easy. It’s collectively the rag-mags and the social media creators on the prowl for a following. It’s the spread of misinformation at its worst and it’s so incredibly easy to do with, say, a pair of green-colored glasses.

Like I said, “…put these glasses on and you’ll see everything exactly the way I want you to see it.”

There was one major plot twist that came out of the World Tour, and you already know what that is. The seed was planted with a New Year’s Eve kiss, fertilized with blurry pictures, a compulsory hallway hug, and copycat photos, and encouraged to grow with a bit of junk news and a lot of social media innuendo. Now, I’m not saying the video and photographic evidence that was presented was fabricated; I’m simply suggesting the narrative that came out that evidence was skewed. The media, namely, social media creators, pushed us to plant Lutonia trees while Luke’s actions (i.e., not acknowledging the existence of Lutonia) told us to “pay no attention to the Man Behind the Curtain.”

Uh, so, what you’re saying is we shouldn’t have left that wannabe Wizard in Soho?

Ah, shit! I forgot about that fucker!

The unfortunate thing about the Lutonia narrative was that it was bolstered by insinuation that Luke would never be interested in Nicola. Now, whether these remarks were deliberately planted, or they were simply seedpods carried away by a storm, they were not overlooked by Lukolas – or Nicola. In fact, Nicola herself brushed upon it in her Harper’s Bazaar speech: “The amount of inappropriate questions I got asked about my appearance…” Yes, I’m referring to the suggestion that Luke preferred “brunettes�� over “blondes.” Somehow this narrative was conveniently supported by the existence of – lo and behold! – the brunette “friend of a friend” Antonia, who happened to be slender. Again, whether it was intentional or not, the push by, initially, social media creators (and later gossip rags) to link Luke to Antonia inadvertently called the blonde in our story – Nicola – fat. I refuse to dance around that word because it is exactly what this disgusting narrative implied when it chose to compare Antonia to Nicola. Regardless of whether these gossipmongers “corrected” themselves by replacing “thin” with “brunette” and “fat” with “blonde,” the implication was that Luke would never be interested in Nicola because she had thick blonde hair. This was incredibly upsetting and confusing to many Lukolas because it was contrary to Luke’s behavior towards Nicola throughout the World Tour (and in Bridgerton behind-the-scenes clips).

I decided months ago that Luke was incredibly transparent. And, by that, I mean he’s terrible at keeping secrets. Luke himself admitted his “tell” to this was pulling at his ear – now go watch the World Tour with that information in mind. It’ll give you something to do, at the very least. Luke’s sincerity is also why the blonde versus brunette nonsense just doesn’t take flight for me. Any ways, as I hinted at earlier, Luke’s comments on the Bowral red carpet and his later comments in New York City about friends-to-lovers would – again, unfortunately – give the Man Behind the Curtain ammunition to debunk any real-life relationship between Luke and Nicola. Luke was quickly labeled as being “…dismissive of something ever happening between him and Nicola…” Those are literally the words The Tab used in an article dated May 22 to explain Luke and Nicola’s differing commentary about real-life friends-to-lovers. In fact, the article is titled, “Luke Newton has revealed the reason he’d never date Bridgerton co-star Nicola Coughlan.” Oddly – but not really given the source – Luke never actually said he would never date Nicola. But that fact didn’t stop it from becoming a theme of the World Tour – Luke didn’t believe in friends-to-lovers therefore he would never date Nicola – even though, by the end of the tour, Luke’s stance on this had seemingly changed. That’s not to say the rag-mags misquoted Luke – they didn’t – but the narrative they coiled around his words attempted to shut down the idea that Luke and Nicola would ever date in real life because Luke wasn’t interested. But what Luke was saying was that he believed in love-at-first sight. “I actually don’t think friends-to-lovers is something that happens in my life. If I meet someone, I know immediately.” Now, take that statement with the fact that Luke has repeatedly stated he remembers everything about the moment he met Nicola.

The above examples of gossip and innuendo are simply par for the course. The media manipulates facts all the time – whether it be through social media chatter or rag-mags putting their own spin on ordinary commentary – but this type of manipulation is not what puts the fandom in danger of itself. In fact, most of the gossip and innuendo that took root during the World Tour would have dissipated almost immediately after it ended – if it hadn’t been for Papsmear.

Yeah. That was disastrous.

Come to think of it, it was awfully convenient, too, don’t you think?

Absolutely. And you know what else was convenient? That little wannabe Wizard was –

Oh, yeah, I heard that, too! That clown has been trying to hand out green-colored glasses ever since!

Yep. Tried to give me a pair and I told it to go fuck itself and its little glass cat, too. I mean, they weren’t even name brand glasses. Fake ass, bitch.

All jesting aside, if you haven’t noticed already, I do, on occasion, use my writing to call out the fandom, usually as a whole. I mean, we are in this together, right? Actually, no; we ceased being Collectively Delulu after a few unsavory characters were bitten by the Hunter’s Moon and followed Nicola through the streets of New York and London. There was a major – and rather unexpected – shift in the fandom when the rabid Jakolas appeared from the dark corners of our enchanted forest. And I’m sure you’ve realized at this point in my story that I have one particular – oh, shit, I just realized I don’t even know to which fandom our wannabe Wizard belongs. Ruh-roh. Regardless, that motherfucker is in my peep sight because it is a perfect example of how fandom manipulation has reached a new level of toxicity.

Typically, I don’t care what part of the fandom you’re on. My general attitude is, to each their own. If you’re a Jakola and you find yourself spending an average of 15 minutes each week reading my Lukola blog, I applaud you for peeking outside of the den hole. Best not let Alpha find out, though. It’s all in good fun, right? I often find myself getting a good laugh from Jakola stories, especially when they theorize on the Woman Behind the Curtain. Question, though – did you find her? In all seriousness, if I didn’t consider Jakola and Lutonia perspectives, I would be borderline Conscientiously Stupid, now, wouldn’t I? After all, the desire for knowledge is what ultimately gave our Scarecrow his brain.

However, what I don’t find “in good fun” is when social media creators prey on more than one side of the fandom under phony pretense, namely, that they “just want Nicola to be happy.” Oh, these Cowardly Lions may argue that they’re simply being “neutral” – and, yes, I’m sure some instances of this do exist – however, neutrality does not embrace openly ridiculing one fandom over another, especially on a platform that is touted by its owners as being a “safe space” for everyone. The problem with these so-called “neutral creators” is that they’re only here for social media engagement – the clicks and the giggles – and they defect to the other side when the going gets tough. If you, too, take issue with this kind of creator, be soothed in knowing that when you play two sides, you find yourself with two-times the number of enemies.

What makes these so-called “neutral creators” – actually, let’s just call them the “Defectors” – so poisonous to the fandom is that they are made from the grease drippings found at the bottom of the barrel of the Conscientiously Stupid. The Conscientiously Stupid are one thing – they are the ones using their platforms to spread misinformation because they choose to ignore exculpatory evidence (i.e., they’re headstrong in their beliefs) – but the Defectors are typically the ones creating the misinformation and feeding it to the Conscientiously Stupid and then hanging them out to dry when the information proves to be false. The Conscientiously Stupid who refuse to “lose the battle” then resort to bullying (more so than usual) the Sincerely Ignorant of an opposing fandom. And in defense of their Sincerely Ignorant comrades (or simply because they’re sick and tired of the Conscientiously Stupid preventing anyone from having nice things), the Fact Finders – unceremoniously, I might add – have taken their own place on the battlefield (oh, yes, they are absolutely your tactical commanders). Now, the entire fandom is at war with each other – all because some wannabe Wizard – a Defector – convinced people to look through a pair of shiny, green-colored glasses. More than once.

Is it appropriate – or perhaps a bit catty – to put “ceasefire” here?

Ah, yes, well, uh, we have found ourselves a bit far from Oz at this point, haven’t we?

I suppose – but we are trying to help Dorothy find her way back home, and at least we now have an idea as to how she got lost.

Maybe one day we will get her back to Kansas.

Yeah, maybe.

Oh, silly me! I forgot to sneak in a sly reference to Dorothy’s third companion – the Tin Man! He’s perfect for the end of our story. You know, in the book, the Wizard was just an ordinary man who stumbled into his Ozian existence on a magnificent hot air balloon and took advantage of the power that Emerald citizens bestowed upon him. Yeah, yeah, yeah, the Wizard preyed on the naïve using deception and the power of suggestion and invoked fear in anyone who dared to question his authority –

Uh, where are you going with this?

Give me a minute!

Like I said – shit, where was I? – Oh, yes, the Wizard was just an ordinary man, and ordinary people are flawed. We all make mistakes. This is where our Tin Man comes in as he represents love and empathy. Yes, empathy; the ability to put yourself in someone else’s shoes, to understand and forgive, to take into consideration someone’s redeeming qualities –

You know that Wizard defected in his hot air balloon before taking Dorothy home, right?

Wait, what?

Okay, okay. It was Toto’s fault but the Wizard sure as shit didn’t come back for her!

Hmm, you’d almost think Toto knew the Wizard’s true colors all along…

“Au revoir, Wiz.”

[estranhossonhos]

It's obviously not a requirement I look for, whenever I meet someone (friends, bf/gf, doesn't matter - I mean people I want to keep around and nourish a relationship with); but I would love to have a significant other with this kind of mindset. That cooks with joy, plans every mealtime with ease, and feeds on other people's reactions to their food. In fact, whenever I get invited to eat at someone's house, and they complain that the food didn't turn up how they envisioned, or state that «it's nothing fancy» - oh, you have no idea how moments like this warm my body, heart and soul. And I wish I was writing all of this out of nostalgia, with that magical, slow-motion like remembrance about everyone gathered around a table, enjoying themselves, talking, laughing, ... but for me, it goes beyond that.

tw: mental health + unhealthy eating patterns

I try not to feel ashamed by confessing this, but I can't help but notice how people look at me weird. It's such an automated/basic thing everyone does, and I can't do it? «What do you mean? You need food to live, yet you can't cook nor do the groceries? ». Not quite, but I do need a whole day to do it, and a few days in advance to get myself ready for this mundane task. You see, my brain shuts off whenever I look at what's inside my fridge or pantry - if there's even anything in there to begin. I simply cannot put combine ingredients like you do (and it's not due to lack of knowledge). And whenever I can, it will most likely become my go-to meal for the next few weeks. It's a logistical nightmare to even consider going out to the supermarket. Yes, I could order online - but that's another task on itself. 80% of the times this gets me so overstimulated that, I've ended up (discreetly, I hope) crying in public, on a few occasions.

Don't worry, it's not an everyday occurrence. And for better or for worse, I am too self-conscious and pragmatic for this bad habit to take over. But whenever my neurodivergent brain is going through the slumps (you know: those occasional rough patches that resurface every once in a while, sprinkled with anxiety and depression), I prefer to stay in bed, disassociate and lose track of time, with an empty stomach. Even though I merely switched that moment with another filled with more guilt and shame towards myself. And yes, that also includes going out to eat. That's why I (while trying to play it cool) usually choose what somebody else ordered, or what the waiter recommended. This way nobody suspects anything is wrong with me, right?

Now, if this all seems childish and overly dramatic, congratulations: you are a typical functioning human-being. Believe me when I say this: I feel the same way you do, whenever I hear myself complaining about this «first world problem». But unfortunately, this drains the little energy we have to navigate our daily lives as neurodivergent individuals in a neurotypical world. Especially for those with a very tight monthly budget, who live alone or share a place with people they are not close with. Just like you, I used to find unnecessary and environmentally unfriendly all of those pre-packed, peeled and/or frozen meals, veggies and fruits. Nowadays I am thankful whenever I find them, since they quite literally have saved my life multiple times. Chemicals? Not healthy? Never heard of them. I need fuel to get out of bed and to not rot away. And if that fuel is a frozen lasagne with a weird ingredient list, so be it. I promise I'll compensate in a near future, when I am mentally and physically out of the slump, and I feel capable of asking for help (if needed) or to mask myself again as a typical functioning human-being 💪 So, next time you catch yourself complaining about those «unhealthy and ready to eat meals» or any other «unnacessary invention» that promises to make someone's life easier: take a deep breath, question everything but always try to do it out of pure curiosity. This way you're always reach the correct answer, be apart of less judgemental world, with more acessibility, compassion and solidarity towards one another.

Cooking for you is my love language.

[ordinary-barbie]

scary dog privileges.

summary: Nobody's messing with you as long as Rafe Cameron is around.

pairing: rafe x sweet!pogue!reader

word count: 1.7k

tags: fem!reader, swearing, a guy acts like a creep towards reader, fingering, cunnilingus, p in v sex (protected), mutual orgasms

note: dipping my toes into obx fanfic after hyperfixating/crushing on Drew Starkey and reading a ton of Rafe stories, haha. I have not seen the show but I'm shooting my shot here anyway!

~~~~

They say that opposites attract, which couldn't be more accurate regarding your relationship with Rafe Cameron.

Rafe was the Kook king of Kildare Island, someone who oozed cockiness and arrogance. Meanwhile, you were a soft-spoken Pogue. When people spotted the two of you together, they couldn't wrap their heads around it, and frankly, neither could you. Rafe had his pick of any girl on the island - especially the Kooks - but somehow he only had eyes for you, which warmed your heart.

It all started last year, with a party at Tannyhill to celebrate your class graduating from high school. You were content to stay under your covers, binging Love Island Australia on Hulu, but your friend Olivia had begged you to come with her. Eventually, you relented, your curiosity about one of Rafe Cameron's famous parties getting the better of you.

Within five minutes, you'd ran into Rafe—literally. You'd been swaying to the music and accidentally bumped into him, spilling your drink all over his shirt. You'd been mortified, apologizing profusely and insisting on helping him clean up.

Rafe was a goner ever since.

Now it was time for another Tannyhill bash to celebrate the start of summer, and you were squarely by Rafe's side. In the year you'd been together, you'd discovered how protective your boyfriend was. He held onto you like an anchor, always having an arm wrapped around your waist or shoulders, no matter if he was talking to Topper and Kelce or kicking some rando's ass at beer pong. You appreciated it; parties often made you feel like a nervous baby deer, and it was nice to have someone to hold on to.

Unfortunately, you couldn't always be joined at the hip. "I'm gonna piss but I'll be right back, baby," Rafe promised, giving your ass a light squeeze on the way to the bathroom. As soon as your boyfriend was out of sight, your smile dropped. While you'd made an effort to get to know Rafe's friends, you were still incredibly nervous in a house full of Kooks.

To kill some time, you scrolled through Instagram, giggling at Olivia's latest story. She'd posted herself having a "friendly pizza sesh" with a guy, but you knew she'd had a huge crush on him since high school.

Suddenly, a shadow passed over you. "What's got you laughing like that, pretty girl?" You jumped, startled by the unfamiliar male voice.

A smirking guy with short, curly dark brown hair and glinting hazel eyes sauntered up to you. "Hey, I'm Aidan. I'm new in town—but maybe a cute thing like you could show me around?" he lazily drawled.

Your skin prickled with discomfort. You suddenly wanted to shrink into yourself, but you forced yourself to smile anyway. "Sorry, I'm not interested."

Aidan laughed, undeterred, and leaned into you. "Playing hard to get, huh? That's kinda hot," he whispered into your ear, making your stomach churn.

"I said no thanks," you responded, laughing nervously. You should run. You needed to get out of there. But for some reason, you found yourself rooted to the spot, trapped with Aidan and the pungent stench of his cologne.

Aidan pouted, using his arms to pin you against the wall. "C'mon babe, just give me a chance. I don't bite."

"How many times is she gonna tell you to fuck off before you get the point?" Relief flooded your chest at the sound of your boyfriend's voice.

Aidan rolled his eyes. "Why don't you fuck off, dude? We were having a moment."

Rafe glared at Aidan, his eyes blazing with rage, and grabbed the other boy by the collar of his Lacoste polo. "That's my girlfriend, you jackass. And you're gonna step the fuck away from her. Now."

You suddenly felt a zinging sensation in your core, turned on by Rafe's behavior. He was so sweet and silly and kind but could turn into a snarling dog in an instant — definitely not someone to fuck around with.

Rafe released Aidan's collar and the brunette gulped, suddenly trembling with fear.

"I - I'm sorry man. I had no idea," Aidan stammered. "I'll leave her alone."

Rafe wrapped a protective arm around your waist, scowling at Aidan. "Get the fuck out of my house."

Aidan meekly nodded, scurrying out of Tannyhill. The party filled with laughter, with people cheering Rafe on. But Rafe ignored the commotion, only focused on you.

"I'm so sorry baby. I should've been there to protect you from that—that asshat," Rafe apologetically said, tenderly stroking your cheek. You leaned into his touch, instantly comforted by the warmth radiating from his body.

"It's okay, Rafe," you assured him. "It's not like you could take me into the bathroom with you."

Rafe frowned, kissing the top of your head. "Maybe I should. Can't have these fuckin creeps tryna mess with my girl."

You laughed, shaking your head at your well-meaning boyfriend. "I adore you, but I'm not gonna stand there and watch you pee."

Rafe flashed you a lopsided grin. "Why not? We've done way worse things in there. That poor sink has seen some shit."

You playfully shoved Rafe's shoulder. "Rafe Alexander Cameron! I can't believe my knight in shining armor is so crass."

"Don't act like you don't love it, baby," he casually replied, kissing your neck. You let out a soft moan, tilting upward so Rafe could have more access.

The two of you were interrupted by the sound of Topper fake retching. "Begging y'all to please get a room," he pleaded. You couldn't help but snicker at Topper's dramatics.

Rafe lazily flipped off his friend before whisking you off to his bedroom and locking the door. "Get on the bed for me, pretty girl," Rafe said huskily, brushing his lips against your ear. Damn, that nickname sounded so much sexier from Rafe's lips than that douche from earlier. (Aaron? Andrew?)

You kicked off your sandals and laid down on top of Rafe's king-sized bed, pulling off your dress and underwear. Rafe quickly shed himself of his clothes and laid on top of you, kissing down every inch of your body.

"So I'm your knight in shining armor, huh? Well let me give my princess the treatment she deserves," Rafe drawled, relishing in the way your body reacted to his touch.

He plunged two fingers inside you, pumping them in and curling them right against your sweet spot. You gasped, loving the way he stretched you out. Rafe had been the only guy you'd ever slept with and at this point, you couldn't imagine yourself with anyone else; how could you, when you've only experienced the best?

You began to crave more than just his fingers, however. "Rafey," you whined, fully overcome with lust.

Rafe chuckled, lazily rubbing at your clit. "Use your words, princess. Tell me how to make you feel good."

You gulped, still feeling a little timid when it came to expressing your desires in the bedroom. "I need—I need your mouth, Rafey. Please."

Rafe knitted his eyebrows in mock confusion. "Where, baby? Your lips? Your cheek? Your forehead?"

"Rafe Cameron. Eat my pussy before I explode," you begged, your horniness taking over.

Rafe smirked, pulling his fingers out of you before slowly running his tongue across your folds. “Fuck, I love it when you talk dirty. Almost as much as I love this sweet little pussy. She's already so wet for me, holy shit."

You whimpered, arching your back in ecstasy as Rafe continued to pleasure you, kissing and sucking at your clit. You felt that familiar fire in your stomach, a sure sign that your climax was fast approaching.

"Oh, Rafe—'m gonna cum," you moaned, your legs shaking. Rafe sped up his movements, rubbing your clit with his thumb and index finger while pumping his tongue in and out of your hole. Eventually the dam burst and you felt your orgasm wash over you as your legs clamped down on either side of Rafe's head.

You took a minute to come down from your high, admiring the sight of your boyfriend with mussed-up hair and your glistening slick decorating his face. Even while looking totally disheveled, Rafe was a work of art.

Rafe wiped his face with the back of his hand, savoring the rest of your juices on his fingers. "Always my favorite meal baby," he purred. "But now I need to be inside you. Turn around for me, princess."

You shifted your position on the bed so you were lying on your stomach while Rafe rummaged in his bedside drawer for a condom. You heard him unwrapping the foil packet and rolling the condom on before feeling the head of Rafe's cock teasing your hole. You let out a breathy moan, loving and loathing the teasing simultaneously.

Rafe held on to your hips as he pushed into you, thrusting in and out at a steady pace. "Can't get enough of this pussy," he grunted. "So warm and tight f'me."

The din of the party going on downstairs faded away, and you could only focus on the sounds of sex occurring in the room: the duet of moans between Rafe and you, the creak of the bed, the sound of skin slapping against skin. A year ago, you couldn't imagine coming out of your shell like this. But now? Well—

"Gonna cum again, Rafey," you breathily blurted out, feeling your pussy clench down on Rafe's cock.

"Fuck yeah, princess, just come all over my cock," Rafe groaned.

Almost as if on cue, you felt your climax wash over you, and Rafe helped you ride out your orgasm before spilling his load into the condom. You had a fleeting thought about Rafe shooting his cum inside you instead, but you weren't quite ready for that yet.

You and Rafe took a minute to catch your breaths before he took off the condom and tied it up, tossing it into the wastebasket next to his bed. He rolled over on his side, enveloping you in his arms and burying his head in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent.

"Baby, you're incredible," Rafe murmured, kissing your shoulder.

You smiled, feeling light and airy inside. "Rafe, you're incredible. Thanks for being my scary dog earlier."

"I'm sorry, 'scary dog?'" Rafe repeated with a laugh.

"Scary dog privilege. It's something I saw on TikTok," you explained. "Basically it means that if you're with an intimidating-looking person, people will leave you alone because they don't want to mess with a scary dog. And seeing you be protective like that? It was pretty hot."

Rafe fondly gazed at you, stroking your hip. "Well shit, I'll be your scary dog anytime then, baby."

[sheep-from-rad]

About the Reader who became Jason's roommate and all. I wonder what if they were so cold and distant with the family, they made sure for them to know that they are not a family. (They already closed their heart).

It can be things like, in class they won't talk with Tim unless they have to, like having a project together and if they do they'll only talk about the project if he tries to talk about something else she changes the subject or shut it down. All with a smile on their face, the way they talk is too professional and they won't let him involve emotions. "We are only talking about what needs to be talked about" they say.

The less subtle with Dick, Bruce and Damian because they come to them as vigilantes. Waking up to Batman and Robin cuddling them. They snap at them. Because first, "when did dressing as a furry and making kids fight crime with you turned to doing that to stalking civilians? And you claim to be my 'family' yet what family breaks into the house of someone and touches them in their sleep? That's not like family behavior but one of creeps!!"

They also snap at Dick for coming to them in his Nightwing costume. "Are you trying to put me in danger by associating me with your vigilant persona? What a good hero- what a good 'brother' you are."

With Jason, what if the reader didn't snap at him till now and told him about the three show up as vigilantes to a civilian, using his protectiveness against them in that way.

I don't know how may readers treat Jason but I can imagine that they don't cook for him and they don't eat what he cooks for them. They keep personal stuff like tooth brush and all of the personal things in their room. If he comes with injuries they will give him a first aid kit and clean the mess he made but mostly won't help him unless it is something he really needs help in like bandaging his back. Stay in their room for most of the time they are in the apartment.

I can imagine reader apartment hunting after Bruce by there's and stuff but also what if Reader got a better job that can help in that? What if the Reader decided that they will pay Bruce rent because to them he is nothing but their landlord? What if Reader managed to find another place to live in and became the roommate of a friend?

If the fam asked them to hang out or visit the manor they'd use the same words who were used against them when they were in the manor like "not now" "I have more important stuff to do" "don't you have other things to do?" "Go bother someone else" "stop nagging me". So it's like how they used to treat the reader at the manor.

I also feel like what they are trying to do is swipe things under the rug so, I can imagine them reaching the point where they try to confront reader and they just say "after treating me like nothing in my most valuable times of my life you think you can waltz back in my life and play family and I'd welcome you whit open arms? What kind of delusion is this?" "You are not my family and made it clear from day one. You can't just take it back, not after all the damage you've done."

Original fic: Jason's sidecar (Yandere Batfam x Neglected!Reader)

Masterlist

Jason had anticipated it. He was a child of neglect as well not just from his original parents but also partly from Bruce. He blames himself too when it comes to you. He’s the smart one next to Tim and he had read a lot of books on how to end the cycles of neglect and emotional abuse and yet he wasn’t able to help you. He may not say it but he feels like he deserves the current treatment he’s getting from you. And honestly, he’s fine with it. He’s fine with the coldness, he’s fine with the emotional distance. He’s fine by just being the shadow in your apartment who tucks you in your sleep at night whenever Bruce and Damian are out. 

Tim is not satisfied with it. He will pull strings to make sure that you and him will always be on the same assignments and projects. If he’s not in the same group with you then he will quickly bribe the weakest link in your group to swap with him. Tim would also use his bad sleep habits as a weapon. It started with him passing out of the class and the professor having to call you to get him home and now the professor has you on speed dial (do people still use speed dial) whenever it happens. Most of the time it’s just a ploy for you to go home to the mansion because sometimes you can’t just say no to Alfred. 

Bruce and Dick were hurt but it makes sense. The cowl and the masks protect the cities but too much attention is just as dangerous. At the end of the day even when they are tired, they have made it a habit to change clothes before coming to see you. Bruce is saddened over the fact that his relationship with you became transactional but much like Tim he would find ways to outsmart you. Whenever you pay him rent every month, he would slip back a hundred or two in the less conspicuous places. Most of the time you end up thinking it’s just money you forgot about. If you have those physical piggy banks, he will surely slip the rent back little by little. Dick would make it a part of his routine to be on constant lookout on Gotham’s apartment rent and leasing. Everytime an apartment lowers its initial rent, he would immediately book it and give it to a poor citizen (he’ll do it in secret and help citizens pay for the rent and even find a stable job to keep the apartment). He is also on the constant lookout in other cities as well with help of his other friends. 

Damian hates it. He thinks you’re being a brat and that you’re doing it for attention. The estate is the safest place in Gotham and you left it for independence? Why would you ever gamble your life for it? He wasn’t in the whole ‘get you back home’ plan and he respects your decision on leaving even though he hates it. He wasn’t on it until he found his fist clenching hard as he stood inside your now empty room at the estate. He knows of emptiness and yet the feeling of you being missing in that very room felt like he’s falling down the abyss. Bruce holds you two tight every night but Damian will hold you tighter. Arms tight on your midsection and head on your chest. He’s partly glad those grip training worked off.

[harrywavycurly]

Worth The Fight: Civil

Masterlist: Here

CW: language, arguing, angsty bits, pregnancy things

A/N: This one is a necessary sort of painful because we all know Harry needs a wake up call and this might just be it✨

Tag List: @kookjipao @msolbesg @lomlolivia @namoreno @outofthisworl-d @mema10 @watarmelon212 @natykn @sassamanda77 @st-ev-ie @ghayda0 @hannah9921 @indierockgirrl @chaoticthoughts2022 @lizsogolden @gmikaelson @styleswithaseaview @sofaritsalrightt @babegoals @fangirl509east @one-sweet-gubler @stylesftcher @umadirectioner @last-saturday-night @montgomery-929496 @laughterismytherapy @hisparentsgallerryy @jerseygirlinca @behindmygreyeyes

Summary: You ask Harry if he really wants to be a dad and it makes him rethink somethings everything and ends up with him having a impromptu therapy session with one of his bestfriends while you as usual pour your heart at to the only man that listens, Paris✨

Harry let’s out a groan as he tosses his phone onto the couch as he walks into his living room, not bothering to look to make sure it landed safely because right now he sort of wants to throw it at the wall and watch it break into pieces. Niall raises an eyebrow as he observes Harry from him spot on the loveseat, he watches with only a small amount of concern as Harry runs both hands through his hair giving it a few tugs as he lets out a frustrated sigh. Niall knows better than to ask questions when Harry is in one of his moods so he just sits back and lets his bestfriend pace the length of the couch with furrowed brows and what Niall would call an angry looking snarl on his face as if he’s fighting off the urge to hit something with the hands that are now balled into fists at his sides.

“Have you ever met someone who just,” Harry lets out a noise of pure aggravation as he pauses his pacing to look at Niall. “Makes you so irritated by just the simplest little thing but at the same time you don’t want to be mad or angry at them you just want to be around them and they-they keep making it impossible?” Niall rubs his lips together and nods as he watches Harry try his best to vocalize how he’s feeling in this exact moment.

“You mean someone who makes every emotion you feel seem like it’s dialed all the way to eleven?” Harry quirks a brow at Niall’s question as he places a hand on his hip. Niall just chuckles as he takes this as a queue to explain himself further.

“Like when you’re happy with them you’re the happiest you’ve ever been but when you’re mad it’s as if all you can see is red and you want to punch every wall in the house just to make yourself feel better and sometimes it’s like you’re always sort of mad at them and you don’t know why?” Harry nods his head as he turns and grips the back of the couch as he looks at Niall who seems to understand a bit of what Harry is going through right now emotionally.

“Yes it’s as if the only emotion I can feel around them is annoyance and it’s driving me mental.” Niall gives him a reassuring smile making him narrow his eyes into a glare at his friend who just laughs in response.

“Yeah Harry I’ve met someone like that.”

“What did you do about how they made you feel?”

“I asked her to be my girlfriend.” Harry feels his cheeks get pink at Niall’s answer, not expecting the person he was talking about to be his current partner. “Been going strong for a few years now so I’d say maybe get your head outta your ass and just ask this person out?” Niall suggests with a shrug making Harry let out a scoff as his grip on the back of the couch tightens.

“You’ve gone fully mental if you think that’s the solution to my problem.”

“The problem is you’re just mixing up your emotions that’s all.”

“What does that mean? I’m pretty sure I know the feeling of being irritated quite well thanks to sharing a tour bus with you for almost six years of my life.”

“I’m sure she’s irritating you but you need to take a look at why she’s making you feel like this. You said it yourself you just want to be around her and she’s making it hard right? How is she making it hard exactly?”

“Because she always has to be right and most of the time she is and instead of just acknowledging the fact she’s right I for some reason choose to say the stupidest shit and I end up back at square one.” Harry let’s out a sigh as he hangs his head down and closes his eyes as his mind flashes back to the conversation he just ended with you over text and how he just couldn’t admit that you needing time to forgive him for what he’s done is okay, he had to go and be the asshole you’ve grown used to him being.

“You wanna know why I think you really say the stupid shit you do to this poor girl?” Harry doesn’t bother to look up or open his eyes as he nods his head making Niall let out a sigh as he leans forward and rests his forearms on the tops of his thighs. “I think it’s because you’ve pushed your real feelings for her so deep down into yourself that the only emotions you have left to feel around her is anger and irritability. Not to mention you do bloody fucking hate admitting when someone else is right so her being right all the time probably makes you annoyed and it triggers you to say stupid and hurtful shit.” Harry slowly raises his head and opens his eyes so he can look at Niall who is already staring right at him.

“When the hell did you get to be so smart about all this kind of stuff?”

“You’re not the only one who goes to therapy you jackass.”

“Well it’s working wonders.” Niall just rolls his eyes as Harry bites his bottom lip as he tries to make a little sense of how he really feels about you. “I don’t-I don’t know how I really feel about her.” He admits quietly making Niall just nod as he stands up from the love seat.

“It’s the girl you met at that karaoke bar isn’t it? The one I met at Anne’s?” Harry debates in this moment if he should tell Niall just why you were at his mom’s house because maybe then he would understand why this whole thing is causing Harry so much stress.

“Yeah she’s uhm she’s actually pregnant.” Harry watches Niall’s eyes go wide as he turns his whole body so he’s facing Harry who is still gripping the back of his couch as if it’s the only thing capable of keeping him from collapsing to the floor in an emotional breakdown. “With my twins.” He adds making Niall’s mouth fall open but he catches himself a few moments later and closes it as he runs a hand over his face.

“Holy fucking shit.” Niall has both hands on his hips as he stares at Harry in pure shock. “You mean to tell me the girl you met at that bar and said you had a crazy connection with is the same girl I met at Anne’s and is also your baby momma?” Harry just nods and chews on his bottom lip as Niall lets out a huff. “And this is the girl you keep saying mean and hurtful shit to?”

“Yes Niall it’s all the same girl. She’s the one.”

“Yeah I’ll say she’s the one alight Harry you’ve gone and knocked up the girl you said you could picture yourself with after just one night at a fucking bar with her.”

“Don’t be so dramatic Niall I didn’t say that.”

“I’m not the dramatic one here mate. You said you can’t wait to see her again and even told her you’d call her the next day because you didn’t want to wait too long.”

“I would-would never tell anyone I’ll call them that’s tacky.”

“Let me just ask you something really quick Harry.”

“What?”

“How do you not know how you feel about her right now when you were so sure how you felt that night?”

“Because I can’t-” Niall watches Harry’s eyes go a few shades darker as they appear almost glassy looking as they stare back at him. “I can’t remember that night or at least good chunks of it-it’s just gone? I know I met her and clearly I enjoyed her company in more ways than one because she has my actual cellphone number but I can’t l-I can’t even remember details about that night so I sure as fuck can’t remember how I felt about her.” Harry swallows the lump of emotions in his throat as he admits the biggest issue he’s been dealing with ever since the first time you texted him all those weeks ago, the fact he can’t fully remember the night the two of you met.

“Fuck Harry I’m-I’m sorry.” Harry just shrugs as Niall’s shoulders slump down at hearing his bestfriend sadly admit why he can’t figure out his feelings towards you. “If it means anything I know how happy you sounded when you called me at four in the damn morning going on and on about her and-and I mean you have to know deep down that you feel something for her because if you didn’t then she wouldn’t be able to get these sort of reactions out of you. Because I don’t know if you’ve noticed but you’re sort of a fucking wreck right now and all I’ve seen you do is text someone-”

“It doesn’t matter how I feel about her now because this time I really fucked it up.” Harry snaps cutting Niall off.

“Fucked it up how?” He asks with concern because one thing he knows Harry is good at is saying things he doesn’t mean and causing situations to get out of control quickly.

“She asked me if I really want to be a dad right now. Like literally not even ten minutes ago she asked me that and I somehow managed to turn it all around and made her feel like shit for not being able to forgive me for something I did at the very beginning of all of this and now-now I don’t think I can fix it so we can even be friends? I think this was my last chance and I blew it.” Harry blinks back the tears he knows what to spill over and roll down his cheeks as Niall lets out a sad sigh and runs a hand through his hair.

“I mean that’s a valid question for her to ask because well I don’t know-do you want to be a dad right now?” Niall isn’t shocked at how quickly Harry answers because he knows the man standing in front of him with tears in his eyes has always wanted this, maybe not in this exact way but he’s always wanted to be a dad.

“Yes. More than anything.”

“And did you tell her that?”

“No.” Niall wants to roll his eyes but he doesn’t because he can clearly see the vulnerable and emotional state Harry is in. “I just got mad and that’s when I said the stupid things and now she thinks I’m an asshole.”

“Fuck okay well just walk me through all the shit that’s happened and the things you’ve said and maybe-maybe there’s still hope for you two being able to be friends at the very least.” Harry just nods as Niall heads over to the couch and takes a seat while Harry reaches down and grabs his phone off the cushion so he can scroll to your messages while he begins to tell Niall everything that’s happened between the two of you from the very beginning.

“We don’t hate him.” You say with a sigh as you look down at the orange cat cuddled up in your lap taking over half of the book you had started reading before you decided to reach out to Harry. “He’s their father and we don’t hate him.” You explain as you place your phone on your nightstand before you reach down and place a hand on Paris’s back giving him a nice pet.

“But we do dislike him a whole hell of a lot right now because he’s being an asshole.” You whisper to yourself as if you don’t want the two lemon sized babies in your belly to hear you talk poorly of their father. “He just doesn’t get it Paris and I don’t think he ever will.” The orange cat slowly opens his eyes and lets out a yawn as he stretches his front legs out before looking at you with a tilt of his head.

“So maybe we should just let it go? That would be easiest but-but it would also make it seem like me being upset with him and not trusting him doesn’t matter? And I don’t want him to think he can get away with things like that but I also,” you let out a shaky breath making Paris sit up so he can nuzzle his head against your cheek letting out a string of purrs in the process. “I’m so tired of fighting with him. I’m just so tired of it so fine I can be the bigger person and just-just move on.” You add with a sniffle as a few tears fall down your face as you give your cat a few loving pets making him purr and lean into your touch.

“The truly sad part is that when we met I really thought I might like him? It’s like the universe has me trapped in some sort of sick joke because the man who can’t seem to know how to do anything other than make me cry is someone I thought I could actually see myself with.” You let out a wet laugh as you wipe your cheeks and just shake your head at the idea of you ever having feelings for Harry especially now because the only feeling you get when you think about him is hurt.

[wstviewvidal]

cabernet sauvignon- w. maximoff

pairing: rich!wanda x reader

summary: jealousy leads to beautiful beginnings

a/n: hi!! final chapter of dirty cash. i’m so grateful to everyone who took the time to read this series! i’d be so happy and excited to do any one shots u guys may have ideas for!

minors do not interact

wanda’s day leading up to dinner was nothing short of frantic. she’d spent the entire day before deep cleaning her whole house, afraid that you’d end up in her medicine cabinet somehow or inspecting every crevice of her house. that thought lone had her spending hours crouched underneath tables, standing on stools, even using a micro brush to ensure there was no dust on any surface of her house.

it’s been a week since she took you and your niece out for a girls day. she went home giddy that night and sent a dinner invitation to you as soon as she parked in her driveway.

so, here she was trying her best to find the perfect outfit that looked put together but not too try hard. she stared at the pile of rejected clothes laying on her bed, teetering the fine line between excitement and frantic.

she groaned silently and threw her head back, “why don’t i have any clothes?”

her entire room was in disarray, shirts haphazardly thrown on her bed and jeans laid out on her desk chair. she pulled out piece after piece, holding each article of clothing up to her body in the mirror before throwing it away.

she spent the next twenty minutes scouring and searching for an outfit, only to end up with a blue and white striped button down and dark jeans— an everyday uniform for her.

hi! i’m at the store grabbing wine, do you need anything from here before i head your way?

wanda’s phone chimed with a text message from you and she immediately picked up and read. she smiled down at the message, her heart blooming with warmth at the sight of your name in her phone.

no, everything’s ready! just drive safe.

the next few minutes consisted of wanda fluffing pillows and angling picture frames in an aesthetically pleasing way. taking a few deep breaths, she calmed herself down when she saw you pull into her driveway. she straightened her shirt out and smoothed her hair, taking a deep breath.

but when she saw your car pull into her driveway, all her cool evaporated into thin air.

you didn’t even get the chance to knock on her door before she opened it for you, a wide grin on her face.

“hi,” she breathed out, her grin someone becoming wider now that she’s laid her yes on you, “come in.”

so you do.

and her home is beautiful. you take in the smell of food, the movie playing in the background, the pictures adorning her wall.

you turn to look at her, “your home is beautiful.”

although your body angled toward her, your eyes are too busy looking over how her home is decorated. all the while, wanda is frozen in time at the sight of you. you seem to be enamored by the cozy atmosphere she’s built, and wanda can’t help but be enamored by the way your eyes twinkle in awe.

smiling, she moves toward you to grab the bottle of wine, “thank you. come into the kitchen so we can eat,” your fingers momentarily brush against one another, but wanda didn’t let it linger too long— her nerves getting the better of her.

you follow her, watching wanda’s brown hair flowing gracefully behind her as she leads you further into her house. walking into the kitchen, you’re hit with the rich savory aroma of her home cooked meal.

you take in the smell, letting out a small sigh, “didn’t know you could cook,” you tease as you look over her shoulder at the red hued dish on the stove.

wanda scoffs, glancing back at you in faux offense, “of course i made this! what, you think i can’t cook?”

you nod playfully, your lips curving into a mocking pout, “oh, i know better now.”

wanda smirks subtly, giving you a once over, “good,” her eyes drag over you for a moment before returning back to the stove.

her voice drops slightly, her tone carrying a tease— you can’t help but flush at the way she looked at you. the air between you is warm and charged, you can’t help but wonder what tonight could lead to.

the two of you plate the food and sit at her kitchen table, soft music playing in the background. the light from the overhead fixture casts a comforting glow around the room.

as wanda’s speaks, you watch as she fiddles with her rings, a nervous habit of hers you’ve picked up on. you can’t help but let out a small giggle in amusement.

wanda’s brows furrow, “what’s so funny?”

you shrug nonchalantly, “you’re nervous,” you say matter-of-factly, “you’re normally not like this,” you lean back in your chair as you analyze her.

tilting her head, she she narrows her eyes at you, “i’m not nervous.”

raising an eyebrow and scoffing softly, “so you’re lying to me now?” your voice has a playful tone to it, and it works— wanda visibly loosens up and her lips twitch into a smile.

she rolls her eyes and stays quiet, her cheeks a soft shade of pink.

you side eye her a bit, then nod in agreement with her, “okay, then you’re not nervous.”

she begins to chuckle, “you’re impossible, you know that?” her smile widens and she shakes her head at you.

“maybe,” you quip, your your teasing grin widens.

the playful exchange lightens the atmosphere and wanda’s nerves slowly work themselves out. wanda glances over at you, her expression softening— almost like she’s trying to memorize this moment. for the first time tonight, you wonder to yourself if she’s feeling as caught up in this as you are.

the dinner is filled with easy conversation, the two of you laughing over shared memories and you gazing at wanda when she isn’t looking.

nearing the end of the dinner, you look over at wanda, “this was amazing, wands,” you say gently as you look at her, “you’ve been holding out on me. i had no idea you could cook like this.”

wanda props her chin in her hand, smiling as you thank her for the meal, “in all honesty, i didn’t think it’d come out this good,” she admits softly, “i just think it just tasted better because you were here.”

caught off guard, you blink. the warmth in her voice feels intentional, not overwhelming, but it makes your heart race. she takes a sip from her wine glass, acting as though the moment was not meant to linger.

you two sit on her couch, sipping the wine you brought over. wanda turns her attention to you, “i’m really happy you came tonight,” her voice low and sincere, “i can’t remember the last time i enjoyed dinner this much.”

you tilt your head at her, noting the way her words felt more meaningful than casual, “what, dinner with your exes wasn’t this thrilling?”

you knew you were possibly crossing a line and fishing for something you didn’t want to catch. part of you wonders if you’re treading too close to something vulnerable.

wanda smirks, a playful light in her eyes as she looks at you, “dinner with my exes involved a lot less conversation and a lot more… awkward silence,” a soft laugh bubbles up as she recalls how she couldn’t have meaningful conversations with them like she has with you. she picks up her glass, looking over the rim at you as she takes a sip, “but you? you make it easy.”

wanda watches your reaction with a laugh, shaking her head at how easily flustered you can get. the red on your face is hard to ignore and you can feel your ears hot.

she laughs lowly once more, “you’re easy to fluster.”

before you can recover, she changes the subject, not allowing you the chance to recover, “so, does this mean i’ll be having you over more often for dinner?”

you clear your throat, putting the wine glass down on her coffee table, “i’ll have to be back. i may need a second round to make sure this wasn’t a fluke.”

wanda nods, a smug smile on her face. internally, she was celebrating and already planning for next time. but outwardly she’s nodding and leaning her cheek into her hand.

“didn’t take you for the demanding type,” she says, her tone laced with amusement.

rolling your eyes, you face your body towards her on the couch, pulling your legs beneath you, “i’m not demanding, i’m thorough. there’s a very big difference.”

tilting her head, she narrows her eyes as if she’s analyzing you, “don’t worry, i noticed it after we spending time together,” she looks away from you, her voice dropping a few octaves, “but it wasn’t the first thing i noticed.”

you watch her as she looks away from you, noticing how she flirts but never pushes too far afterward. you decide to change the subject.

“wanda,” you say causally, “how do you know jesse?”

wanda raises an eyebrow, clearly caught off guard, “i don’t,” her fingers fiddling with her necklace, “valerie mentioned her at the aquarium. why?”

nodding along, attempting to sound unaffected, “i just didn’t think i she’d bring her up, that’s all.”

wanda tilts her head, noticing your sudden mood change, she places a soft hand on your own, “don’t worry about it,” she brushes the topic off with ease, “besides, i have my own share of exes who like to linger.”

you snap your head toward her, eyebrows furrowed, “linger?”

wanda hums, a smug smile tugging on her lips at your reaction, “matter of fact, one of them texted me yesterday. she wants to get dinner this week.”

your jaw tightens before you can even help it, “that’s nice,” your words comes out clipped.

wanda fights the urge to laugh, reveling in your reaction, “yeah, i haven’t responded yet. who knows?”

she watches you as you hum and busy yourself with the movie playing in front of you two, but your concentration is far too deliberate to be real. she knows she should ease your worries— she could, but something about the face that you don’t want her to go is making her heart flutter.

you get up to leave a short while after the movie ends, helping wanda clean up the living room you two lounged in.

wanda leads you out, a familiar hand on your back as always, “text me when you get home please.”

you nod and smile up at her, “of course,” wanda looks at you with a grin and twinkling eyes.

she lingers, her contact with you not wavering, her eyes tracing every detail of your face with a deep smile. before you can even think better of it, your arms loop around her neck while her hands find a comfortable spot on the sides of your waist.

you pull back slightly, looking into her eyes, unsure if you should speak your mind. wanda looks down at you, her heart beating rapidly at the contact with you.

“wanda?” you say, almost silently.

“hm?” wanda can hardly focus on anything other than the fact that you’re holding onto her and looking at her with a lovestruck smile. her heart is pounding so loudly she’s surprised you can’t hear it. there is no denying the tenderness behind her expression.

you notice as her eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips, a subtle smile on her face as she gazes into your eyes.

“don’t go to dinner with your ex,” you say rather quickly, “please.”

an amused grin appears on wanda’s face as she holds you, tilting her head, “why?” her face inches just the slightest and you can feel her breath on your cheek.

you’re unsure if you’ve crossed a line, but the way she’s looking into your eyes so intensely— the way she’s holding you gently makes you throw caution to the wind.

you don’t answer her question with words. instead, you lean in, hesitation for just a brief moment to see if she pulls away. she doesn’t. her lips meet yours, softly, tenderly even, as if she’s been waiting for this moment.

wanda doesn’t pull away. instead, her hand presses softly against your lower back, pulling you in. she holds you close with such tenderness that it makes your heart ache. when you pull back, her grin is still there, but this time it is softer now.

your cheeks flush,“don’t go to dinner with your ex,” your voice is steadier now, “please.”

wanda’s grin softens into something more sincere. her thumb rubbing against your waist absentmindedly as she nods, “okay.”

she speaks simply as she watches you sigh, as if the decision was ever in question.

wanda leans in, pressing a kiss to your forehead, her lips lingering like she doesn’t want to let you go, “text me when you get home.”

you nod, your hear full as you step back, awaiting when you can see her again.

wanda watches you leave, leaning against her doorframe with a giddy smile, her bottom lip in between her teeth. neither of you say it, but you both know it’s different now. there’s promise there, a promise of something more.

finally.

[divinedelusional]

how rafe would treat his gf on her period

rafe cameron x fem reader

word count: 796

warnings: menstruation, mentions of toxic relationship and period sex

a/n: yeah this is how rafe treats his girl on her period but also how he would be like in a relationship throughout the seasons? i got carried away, sorry not sorry

s1 rafe: sooo i feel like fratboy!rafe genuinely doesn't give a fuck, i don't even know if he would be capable of being in a relationship. i see him being involved with a girl but only for sex and he would only know she's on her period bc she would just text him that they can't meet today bc of it and he'd be like "uh huh cool" and would go jerk off

s2 rafe: here i think situation would be slightly different. i think our psycho bby could acc develop feelings for a girl, it would mostly be just sex but he could start falling for someone. so i think he'd fight a battle in his mind if he should come over to the girl's house and be there for her on her period or to completely neglect her. it's just he doesn't have a clue what to do and tbh he's occupied with other shit, he uses sex with her to forget. i think it's very similar to s1 rafe but with guilt and feelings creeping in (and obvious denial for this emotions)

s3 rafe: so okay we all know the shift from curtain bangs psycho rafey to buzz cut man of the house rafe who looked like he's getting his shit together. of course that means he's different when it comes to relationships. he still deals with a lot, but he finds you. and he kinda sees you as this light. a small light who he has to be very careful with so it won't go out. he is attentive to you. treats you right, but with some sort of distance and you don't blame him. he doesn't spend every day with you, he didn't even ask you to be his girlfriend yet, didn't make it official but he will and somehow you know it. when you're on your period you become quiet. you don't text him, but he finds out as he had a feeling that he should drop by your house. he finds you on your couch with a heating bag and cookies. you told him you weren't feeling well and he ordered you hot soup and made a quick run to pharmacy for some medicine. he still was clueless and thought you caught a cold. "rafe im not sick im just on my period" "oh" it's not like he avoids you, no. he visits you everday for the next four days but doesn't stay for long, always excusing himself with some meeting or business. you know he means the best for you but wish that he's going to be able to let you in soon. you're really patient with him, but start having doubts.

s4 rafe: is now fully committed to you. you talked to him how you really felt about this relationship. that you really cared and wanted to give him as much time as he needed, but also you couldn't waste it anymore waiting for him. and rafe realized that nobody else would have such patience for him. he was thinking about you a lot and he admitted to himself that you were the one. he made your relationship official and two months later you were living together. he was spoiling you, really. taking you on dates, buying you gifts and most importantly giving you his time. getting to know you, observing your daily habits, remembering stuff you said. your likes and dislikes. no wonder he became pussy whipped. and started to feel like he knows you better than yourself.

that's why when it's that time of the month you don't have to say anything. rafe knows. just by the way you whine when you wake up, he knows if you'd be able to get out of bed and get on with your day or you'd want to stay in bed cuddling, because he's your personal heater, makes back pain go away. gives you massages. cuddles with you all morning untill your stomach start to signal that it's time for some food. oh and he doesn't care about his schedule. he could clear it off, cancel the meetings, but he doesn't bother. his girl is the most important, his business associates don't even deserve a phone call on a day his girl is in pain. also he's not opposed to period sex at. all. orgasm is a great way to reduce cramps, so if that works for you and you want him to help you, he is the happiest to do so. if you're not comfortable with having sex these days he totally understands. wouldn't even thought of forcing you to do something, on your period or not. when he discovered that he has so much love in him, his only interest is to give it to you♡

dividers by: @bernardsbendystraws

tagging: @sugaraanddiesel @cherrylipglossss hope they'll enjoy it and @cameronsprincess bc maybe it will put a smile on her face♡

[jester-lover]

Batfam with a Desi! S/O

CWs: Fem! aligned reader discussions of discrimination, angst, spoilers, but overall fluff

AN: I'm desi and I rarely see desi! reader content out here, so I felt the need to deliver, would love feedback! Also, I'm very new to the Batfamily dynamic, so please don't think anything OOC is intentional.

Bruce

You’ve got to be a really smart person to catch his eye; when you’ve got him, he’s absolutely ensnared by you. Bruce worships the damn ground you walk on, and he respects your culture from the get-go.

As a businessman, he’s met people from all countries. He knows how to behave respectfully towards your family without much nagging. By that I mean, he’ll take his shoes off when he gets to your place.

You know those big gold bangles and accessories you’ve always wanted? You’ll get them. Bruce knows what an investment gold can be, and he’s insistent on only the best for you.

Desi culture is very family-oriented, and while at first, he’s a little put off by how close everyone is, he warms up to it. Your family adores him because they know he can take care of you, and he actually puts in effort to connect with your identity.

He encourages you to wear traditional clothes to every press event you attend, and whenever you’re at desi events together, he’ll wear a kurta too. Imagine going to a desi wedding with a billionaire in tow, and he starts throwing hundreds on the dance floor lol.

You worry about him regarding his double life, but he tries to keep the crime in Gotham away from you the best he can.

Dick

He’s so down bad about you his own teammates make fun of him for it.

Dick would see you doing something like oiling your hair and beg to try it out too, so now you oil his hair once weekly. He tells everyone it’s a secret, but they all know it got better as soon as he was with you.

He would love watching sappy old Bollywood/Tollywood movies with you; the plots and slang might be outdated, but he loves the ornateness of it all. Like he’s a sucker for good background and costume design.

Your family loves how much attention he pays to himself and his body, and he practically soaks in the adoration of any number of little cousins he can pick up and spin around at family functions.

Speaking of functions, you know he’s gonna be in the middle of the dance floor. Does he know even a single song or move? Absolutely he does not, but is he gonna try to replicate SRK from his heart? Yes, he is.

He might shed a little tear the first time he sees you in traditional clothes; you just look so pretty to him. He loves seeing you in lehengas and saris, especially the long, flowy fabric that makes you look like a princess to him.

Jason

I really don’t think your family would like him at first, but he’s committed to you, and he’s gonna be with you as long as you’ll have him. He’ll happily immerse himself in your culture and eventually gain their trust, albeit, hanging on a thread.

Similarly to Dick, he’ll ask for you to try oiling his hair, but he’d love oiling your hair too, helping you tend to it during slow days. 

While none of the other people here would be quiet in the face of you facing discrimination, Jason would be the most willing to cause equal or worse harm. God forbid someone acts rude or racist towards you; they will find their lives slowly falling apart around them. From flat tires to burnt-down houses, he will willingly cause misery for those who have upset you over something you couldn’t possibly control.

Loves to help you cook; seeing a dish come together makes him feel all domestic and giddy inside. Even if it’s something simple, like a cup of chai or basic daal, he loves the richness of the flavors and spice. His spice tolerance is also high, so you don’t need to make your shared meals blander.

Worrying about clothes is a little out of his general interest, but he loves how opulent your traditional clothes are, like the amount of attention to detail and elegance. He thinks you look pretty even after the event, shoes in hand and hair messy after dancing for hours. He’ll carry you to the car if you ask him.

On the topic of clothes, Jason would look so gorgeous in a silky black kurta; I just know it.

Tim

One of my favorite gora pakoras.

He’d love to visit your country of origin someday; warm weather, good food, meeting your extended family—it’s all great for him.

Loves desi sweets so much. His favorites are mostly kulfi and syrupy treats like gulab jamun, but he loves snacks like pakoras.

This is the boy you want to bring home; he’s smart, self-reliant, comes from money, and is willing to keep up with the various traditions we have. Tim will happily learn your language, even if just to greet people respectfully at events. Your desi mom will literally start telling you to act more like him.

He’ll get himself matching kurtas to your outfits if you want him to, even if he kind of just sits around at events. It's not that he doesn’t want to socialize; he’s just a little nervous.

Tim will watch all the Desi rom-coms you want with you, especially the musical ones; they’re his guilty pleasure.

Duke

He’s so sweet, genuinely such a good partner in general, but also so conscious of cultural and social differences. 

Duke Thomas would be the type of boyfriend who carries around extra safety pins whenever you’re in traditional clothes or bobby pins for your hair, just thoughtful in little but important ways.

Running around fighting crime really takes a lot out of a guy, so you know he’d love to eat some hearty food; I think his favorites would be biryani or anything similarly substantial. 

This is the boy who’d spend any spare hour he has listening to you ramble on about family drama that goes back three generations and spans 3 continents. He’ll even help you oil your hair while he’s at it; he’s pretty decent at massaging it into your scalp. 

His favorite clothes on you are the less gown-like desi clothes, like the Shalwar Kameez; Duke thinks you look absolutely adorable in a dupatta.

He adores you so much because of everything that makes you, you. That includes loving your culture.

Barbara

Barbara’s such an ideal girlfriend in any situation, but with a desi partner, she’d really adore exploring your culture with you.

Another one who’d love watching Bollywood/Tollywood movies with you, especially some of the newer ones by more obscure directors, focusing on women’s issues and other elements of modern Desi society.

She would help you do your makeup for formal events, and it will be locked down for the night. Imagine wearing matching lehengas with Barb; she’d look so stunning!

Warms up to your family pretty quickly; she loves sharing chai and biscuits in the morning with them, talking about all the happenings in the city.

Barbara loves desi jewelry; she’d adore it if you got her a piece. She loves seeing you in ornate matching sets, just decked out in glamour.

[missdynamighttt]

heyy your last drabble was soo nice and fluff i loved itt if you arent busy can you please do a fic where katsuki is a a single father to a 15 year old girl (reader had passed away-dunno how) and he was cleaning the house when he found something inappropriate like drugs or sum? i wanna see how katsuki reacts...and maybe if you like some agnst since reader is dead ya know?

WHAT IS IT WITH ALL THESE ANGST REQUESTS... THIS MAKES MY CHRONIC LONELINESS WORSE... nyways, i hope this meets your expectations and i hope you like it 💜💜

the bakugo household was unusually quiet that afternoon, the kind of quiet that made katsuki's instincts tingle. his fifteen-year-old daughter, keiko, was out with friends, and he decided to take advantage of the empty house to do some cleaning.

katsuki had always been meticulous when it came to keeping the house in order. after losing you, he had thrown himself into caring for your daughter, determined to be both mother and father to her. the house was a reflection of that effort—tidy, organized, and filled with small touches of your memory.

he reached keiko's room, the door slightly ajar. stepping inside, katsuki began tidying up, folding clothes, and organizing her desk.

that’s when he noticed something unusual sticking out from under her bed.

curiosity—and a sense of parental duty—took over. he reached down, pulling out a small, hidden box. his heart dropped as he opened it to find a small bag of what unmistakably looked like drugs.

for a moment, katsuki just stared at it, disbelief washing over him. his hand clenched around the bag as a storm of emotions swirled inside him—shock, anger, fear, and an overwhelming sense of failure.

he sat down heavily on her bed, the weight of the discovery pressing down on him. his mind raced with questions like: how did this happen? why didn’t i see the signs? where did I go wrong?

the thought of keiko, his little girl, getting involved with something like this made his chest ache. memories of her as a bright-eyed toddler flashed before him, the laughter, the innocence. now, it felt like he was losing her too, and he couldn’t stop it.

anger bubbled up, not just at the situation, but at himself. he had promised to protect her, to be both mother and father, to guide her through life’s challenges. and now this?

he ran a hand through his hair, trying to steady his breathing. "you’re better than this, katsuki," he told himself. "that little girl needs you. pull yourself together."

by the time keiko returned home, katsuki was sitting at the kitchen table, the small bag placed in front of him. the moment she walked in, she froze, her eyes widening as she saw the expression on her father’s face.

“dad…?” she started, her voice trembling.

“sit."

keiko sat down slowly, her gaze flickering between him and the bag.

“want to tell me what this is?” katsuki asked, his voice low but heavy with tension.

she opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. tears filled her eyes, and she looked away, ashamed.

katsuki took a deep breath, fighting the urge to explode. “kei, i need to know what’s going on. why do you have this?”

“i’m sorry,” she whispered, tears streaming down her face. “i didn’t use it, i swear. i was just…holding it for someone.”

his jaw clenched. “and you thought that was a good idea? do you have any idea how dangerous this is?”

“i know,” she sobbed. “i’m sorry, dad. i didn’t know what to do. they were pressuring me and it just—"

katsuki’s anger softened slightly at the sight of her tears, but the fear and worry remained.

“kei,” he said, his voice softer now, “i already lost your mom. i can't lose you too. we’ll get through this, but i need you to be honest with me, okay? you have to trust me.”

she nodded, wiping her eyes. “i trust you, dad. i-it's just, they were scaring me that if i didn't do it for them, i wouldn't be their friend anymore, and—"

katsuki sighs, looking at his daughter. her words... she almost reminded him of you. "i get it, kiddo. your... mom, was like that too."

keiko raised an eyebrow. its been awhile since he's mentioned you. he never really talked about you, but keiko knew he was thinking about you all the time. even if he didn't admit it.

"did... mom hide drugs for her friends, too.?"

katsuki's eyes narrow at her, clearly telling her it was way too early to joke about something like that. but, still.

"no. not that i know of, anyway. your mom was.." he sighed. "she tried her all too. to please her friends. even if they were shitty sometimes."

keiko raises an eyebrow, confused. "do you mean.. auntie mina and..?"

katsuki raises an eyebrow before exhaling, shaking her head. "no. as annoying your aunt is and the others are, no. its just.. old friends of your mom who didn't see her worth. took awhile before i helped her cut them off."

"what did.. mom's old friends do?"

"just..." he breathes, unsure how to go on. "lots of shitty things. always leaving her out, ordering her around..."

katsuki scoffs. "it was a dark place for her. even after i helped her out, she couldn't go to school without crying when she saw them."

katsuki sighs again, looking at her. "kei... as much as i love your mom, i don't want you to go through that too. she would hate that, okay?"

kei is taken aback by the new lore she finds out about her mom, not sure how to approach the multiple questions she has in her head.

"..what did mom do, when she cut them off? she didn't have friends back then?"

"yeah. your mom didn't have friends for awhile. eventually got into ua and met your uncles and aunts. and, well, me."

"what if.. what if i don't meet new friends, dad? what then?"

katsuki's chest panged a little at the thought of his daughter, all alone, with no one to talk to. but no. he wouldn't let that happen while he was here. but he knew a dad and a friend wasn't the same thing.

"kei... you have your whole life ahead of you. you're fifteen. you more than enough time to have friends."

keiko bites her bottom lip, unsure how to articulate her thoughts and worries to her father.

"dad... this is stupid, but... can we hug? its just... the last hug i ever got was probably when i was and—"

katsuki's heart squeezes at his daughters request, walking over to her daughter from the table and pulling him into a bear hug. it was awkward at first, but it eventually sizzled down into something bearable.

"even if you didn't have any friends, there's always izuku's girl and your uncle's twins... i know its not the same but i'm here for you, keiko. always."

keiko's eyes well up with tears again, hugging her father back. and as they stay there, katsuki felt relief despite knowing it wouldn’t be easy, but he was prepared to fight for his daughter’s future—no matter what it took.

[fixyourwritinghabits]

Editing Your Novel Part 2: The Plot Pass

Okay, it's finally time to edit. You've got all your materials sorted, it's time to dive right in. You want to start with the big edits first, aka the plot pass.

Now listen. You're going to want to linger and fix those little bits of grammar or dialogue, and I know it's so hard not to, but letting yourself get off-track might mean wasting hours on a scene you realize later you have to delete. Fix a few spelling errors, leave a note, and stay plot-focused.

Making Sense (Of the Plot)

In the plot pass, you're asking yourself some basic questions:

Do events follow a clear order? - When you're getting everything down on the page for the first time, scenes might get jumbled up or events might not have clear causes. Maybe you have a car crashing into the cafe pages before, but in a writing haze, you wrote your main characters having a casual conversation moments later. If the bad guy beats your heroes to treasure, is it clear how they got there? (Not everyone can be Yzma.)

Do circumstances feel contrived? If there are any problems that can be solved by your characters sitting down and talking to each other, it may be better to lean into their motivation for not speaking to each other, rather than coming up with bad romcom scenarios. If the plot can be resolved by the mcguffin the grandma had the whole time, it might be better to make finding that mcguffin part of the plot instead.

It doesn't have to be perfect, and you don't have to reinvent the wheel. If someone gets bitten by a werewolf, it's perfectly fine to have them turn into one at the worst possible moment. When it comes to contrived, you're looking for problems that seem easy to solve and look for more interesting ways to complicate them.

Are your character motivations consistent to the characters throughout the story? - They can change throughout the story, but character motivations do need to be linked to the actions they take. An out-of-nowhere betrayal is way more satisfying if you lay the groundwork for it ahead of time.

Take a moment to list out the motivations of the characters in a scene you're not quite sure of can help you figure how to fix it. Having an outline helps with this a lot!

Are you following an "if... then" format? - My brain doesn't work like this when I'm writing, because as a writer you know how A got to Z, and it seems (in your head) obvious how it happened. This is where my scene card outline come in handy, because I can look at my overview of what should happen and why, and then compare it to what actually happens in the scene. I've discovered so many threads I forgot to connect that way, like why a character had a certain device (I forgot to have him pick it up two scenes earlier), or adding a few simmering dialogue bits that make the big fight pay off much better.

Can you fix the "Because the Plot Demands It" scenes? - Look, sometimes your character needs to be in that haunted house to see that damn ghost, but your character isn't the type to set foot in such a place. It's really easy, especially in the first draft, to contrive a way in there (she took a wrong turn on her way to grandma's!), but retooling these scenes to connect them to the characters motivations and needs is the way to go. The main character doesn't want to go into that obviously cursed place, but her best friend hasn't shown up for school in three days and now she's crying for help from the second floor window. Your character's strong desire to be there for her friend is a much better way to get her into that house.

This is not always easy - it took me six fricken drafts to realize a critical part of a character's motivation was because his father blamed him for his mother's death - but it is going to be worth putting in the work to hammer down.

Do you have a solid timeline? - This might not seem as important, but it's super easy to accidentally fit two weeks worth of activities in three days. Make sure you have that on reference, even if you don't mention it in the book. Also make sure to gauge your distances if your characters are on a trip, because if you do accidentally say it takes two hours to drive from Seattle to Spokane instead of five, someone will dive down your throat for it. Not me. Just someone.

Okay, maybe me. Slow down, you maniacs.

Next post we'll dive into the structure pass. See you then!

[writingwisterias]

Bonding

Vendetta! Leon Kennedy x Winters!Medic!Reader

Warnings: Slight Angst, Injuries, Drinking, Hurt/Comfort, Bonding, trauma sharing, Age-Gap, Platonic relationship

Summary: After helping your brother find his wife you get left with unusual abilities, ones that often feel like a burden than a gift...until shit happens and you both end up healing each other in more ways than one.

Words: 2.3k

Requested by @misswynters I hope you enjoy it! Sorry it took so long, I was fighting this story trying to get it right! <3

As if it wasn’t already bad enough that he had a partner on this mission, it was made worse that it was supposedly one of the BSSA’s best. He scoffed at the files, they gave him the ones he had now thrown on the table and already forgotten about. Not that he needed it as he already predicted who would be joining him. The glass of whiskey was already half empty as he was working his way through the bottle, they hadn’t even set off yet. The agent was late, or he was just really early for once. Leon shut his eyes preparing himself for the ridicule he would receive when Chris, the agent he had presumed would be the one they sent to join him, the one that would eventually thump his way onto the plane. The man wouldn’t know how to be stealthy even if took a course on it. However, his ears picked up the sound of light footsteps on the metal stairs into the plane. His eyes peeled open as he trained them on the plane entrance. Curiosity coursed through his veins. What he didn’t expect was you. 

A younger girl, one that must have joined more recently. How was she one of their best? It looked like shes never been on a mission on her own. 

You watched as his eyes narrowed at the sight of you, clearly trying to figure out who you were and how you were possibly one of the best. A poor attempt to pinpoint your story. You didn’t fail to notice the discarded file or glass of the infamous amber liquid. If he had read it, he would have got all the answers he was currently peering at you for. Chris had warned you after all about the behaviour of the man in front of you. It was your first mission alone and according to the burly man it wouldn’t be a challenge of the enemies but of the partner you had been promised. “You must be Leon Kennedy” You spoke, holding your hand out to him. Leon studied it like you had some hidden message etched within your skin. To him they looked too clean, too pure. There were no scars or texture to them. “You are?” 

His voice was rough, and croaky from the burning liquid that warmed his insides so early in the morning. Your name shocked him but the last name piqued his curiosity. “Winters eh?” he repeated, trying to recall the significance with his dazed mind. This was the professional government agent you were promised? The best of the best? You cleared your throat sitting in the chair opposite him, a small apology leaving your lips as you bumped his knee. You already seemed too kind for this job or at least too new to it, if only he could remember why your name was familiar. “Well, it’s clear someone didn’t do their homework. I’m the sister to Ethan Winters…The baker house incident” You spoke. He didn’t fail to notice the nervous shaking of your hands, guilt coursing through him as he clearly made you relive whatever you had gone through. BSSA twat or not, no one needed to be haunted like that. “Right - I heard about your case. Your brother went looking for his wife and you ended up in a whirlwind of shit” 

Of course, Leon couldn’t be kind, he didn’t see it in his nature anymore. All he had to do was shut up, just like you were doing as you turned to face the window. There was no need to pick holes as to why you got involved in this line of work, it's not like his start was any better. A promise to work for someone else's protection only for that girl to end up like him anyway. A government pawn. 

Your head leaned against the cabin walls as you watched the plane take off. You ignored his remark, his ignorance of your past and wrongdoings was a reflection on him, not you. After all, you didn’t have to go and help Ethan find his wife. Only for the two of you to end up in that house of nightmares, to then witness a poor family wrongfully affected. Sure Leon has seen some shit, but a family just wanting to help an innocent woman and being infected with the same thing that coursed through your veins. Their minds twisted and turned as they attempted to kill you, their bodies forced to change to adapt to new horrors.

Ethan and you were given military training after that, along with the option to join the BSSA. You didn’t hate Ethan’s choice to continue his family life with Mia, taking the training and using it to protect her if he needed it. Part of you wanted to do the same but ever since you knew the truth, the fact that the virus now ran throughout your body whether you wanted it or not. It felt wrong to try and find someone new in the world, someone who would understand your position and what you did or have seen. You had accepted it… the fact you were forever infected with this taint. The loneliness it brought along with it was harder to stomach. That was until the mould changed you, your hands suddenly more useful to them than hiding. 

From what you had heard Leon was a pretty respected agent, how you didn’t understand. His attitude only grew the more he drank during the flight. The important document still left unread is now being used as a placemat for his drink. The brown folder now gathers a formation of rings. “What makes you so special then?” he asked, his eyes scanning you for any abnormalities. You shrugged. Never really have an answer to that, you can heal yourself and others but that doesn't make you feel special. It felt more like a burden. “I guess I just have more than enough knowledge and experience on whatever we are going to be dealing with” You answered. Leon didn’t respond so you took his silence as the sign the conversation was over. Your gaze lingered on him for a while longer until you finally turned to watch the plane fly amongst the clouds watching as the ground got closer now you had both reached the destination. 

Your footsteps echoed down the darkened corridor, your flashlights barely illuminating anything in front of you. The building groaned upon your arrival, the wind working its way through the cracks. The abandoned warehouse had rumours of lingering scientists working on something, the usual deal from what Leon had to say about it when you both opened the front door.   “One day I’m sure a super evil scientist will not pick a decrypted building as their place to do their experiments” You joked. A small chuckle left Leon’s lips as he glanced over at you; amusement lacing his eyes. “It wouldn't be half as fun then” he responded. The atmosphere changed between the two of you the further you entered, the once clipped and cautious words grew warmer and longer. You had both found comfort in each other's presence, a silence falling over the both of you that never quite felt awkward. Your minds worked in sync as you both cleared out the rooms, working your way further and lower into the building. That was until distant explosions went off and the two of you fell to the floor. 

You vaguely acknowledged Leon's scream of pain, the ceilings collapsing making the room dark as the rubble caged you both in. “Fuck” Leon groaned as he grasped at his leg. Your coughs rattled as you took in the clouds of dust, “you good?”. It was a stupid question really, his scream and groans of pain indicated anything but that. You scrambled for the flashlight on your belt to try and light up the space as well as hitting the emergency button sending your signal to nearby backup. The flashlight didn’t do much but it allowed you to spot Leon on the floor, clutching at his leg. You didn't have much space to work with, your hands hurt as you pressed on the ground crawling towards him. The gravel biting into your skin. “Leon? What is it?” You asked when you finally reached him, flashlight in hand. You didn't need him to answer as you had already spotted the red seeping out between his fingers. The flow didn't look like it would stop anytime soon. “Fuck” he groaned again. 

Your hands shook as they hovered over his own, your fingers gently prying his hands away from the wound to get a better look. It was bad, too bad for you to just do a quick fix and wait until you both got rescued. The rubble that was still settling around you both would probably end up infecting it. He hissed in pain as you held your hands on his wounds, you focused on it - working on stitching it back together. Leon watched as you worked, his brain trying to grasp what was even happening. “What the fuck” he muttered under his breath as your hands pulled away. His own replaced yours once again, feeling the stitched skin. There was no scar, no lingering reminder of this unfortunate event left on his skin. “How?” He questioned. 

You sat back against the rubble behind you, your knees clutched tightly to your chest to give him some more room. He watched you shrink into yourself. You looked so small, so young. Too young to be brought into a job like this, to see the things you must have seen. It reminded him of himself, the young cop who was thrown into the deep end when he just tried to help people. “When I went to help my brother…in the baker's house…we both got infected. He can just heal himself, you should have seen the injuries he's had” you explained. He could hear the weak chuckle in your words, trying to make light of a decision to help your brother. One that changed your life. “And you? What happened to you during it?” 

“Ethan protected me from most of what happened, he's got a baby on the way from what he told me in our last phone call. I ended up leaving with the ability to heal others as well as myself…it's tiring, and traumatizing at times- the injuries I've seen are something else. But Chris said the BSSA could use someone like me. So I joined” 

Leon studied you further, his eyes piercing in the dim light of the flashlight. He could understand how you felt. You had been given an opportunity, something that would make you feel like you were doing some good. Only to forever try and shoulder the effects of the lifestyle change. “After Raccoon City I was forced to become an agent. To use my pure luck and train it into my skill set today. Despite the conversation, it never really felt like I had a choice, an option for what I wanted to do. It was blackmail” 

You didn't expect him to explain his own story, to open up in an attempt you assumed was to make you feel like you weren't alone in this world. You untucked yourself slightly, a movement that didn't go unnoticed by Leon. His small smile was proof of that. “Some shitty life this is. Does it ever stop feeling so lonely? Like how do you explain this to someone? To people you want to be friends with or have in your life. I pushed everyone I knew before away because I just couldn’t explain it.” you asked him. 

You were as shocked as Leon was that you had begun to confide in him. He assumed these were the types of conversations you would have with Chris or your brother. Yet, Ethan was married his whole seemingly working out okay and Chris had always been a lone wolf as of late. Consulting only with close friends with experiences similar to his own. Leon supposed he did the same, that’s why he had only spoken to Chris, Claire or anyone else he’d met over the years. You didn’t have that, you had only just begun and ended up trapped under rubble without even finding the scientist. To you this mission was a failure; to Leon, it was just beginners luck, no one ever had a good first day alone in this line of work. “I guess you don't, the people I've spoken to have similar experiences I guess, or at least are connected to the job. I’ve never fully felt like I had a friend”  He answered, scooting closer to you. You sighed at the tiny bit of contact as his shoulder brushed you, almost a reminder that you were still human and not some monster your head constantly told you. You have seen what the mould could do, how it changed people's minds…corrupted them.“I’m sorry we just met, I didn’t mean to just dump this on you” 

“I asked, didn’t I? About your past, how you ended up here” 

You supposed he did, it wasn’t unprompted. Despite his tough exterior, something told you deep down he wasn’t always like this. Despite all the pain and trauma he either hid inside himself or washed away with an alcohol of his choice; he still wanted to help people. To make sure that the person he was talking to wasn’t alone. “Besides, I’d rather be trapped in here with you than Chris. At least I have more leg room” 

Your laugh was sweet, lighter than the look that permeated your face since you had met him. It suited you. “I suppose you are better company than Chris, with his smoking habit I’d have probably suffocated with second-hand smoke” 

Leon smiled as you opened up, as the knees lowered from your chest, lining up with his own. His froze as your head hit his shoulder, unused to the contact after being alone for so long (by his own choice). Leon laid his head on yours, the both of you silently leaning on each other as you remained trapped by your pasts, the futures uncertain. “You don’t happen to know how to make shadow puppets do you?” 

[xmads-omensx]

Hi I'm new here so, Can a have something about Noah calming his girl down, when she has a anxiety crisis? Sorry if this is kind weird ou anyting, but sometimes a think about Noah to make me feel better about my anxiety. (Sorry for my english, it' mu secong language)

Word Count: 1,295

Pairing: Noah Sebastian X Reader

Content Warnings: mentions of anxiety, panic attacks, swearing, vague mentions of past trauma, comfort, crying

Tags: @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @lacy1986 @collidewiththesav @kenjipepsi1 @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @chey-h @tosoundlessdarkistare @thisbicc @fadingangelwisp

Hi anon! Thank you so much for the request! It was actually quite therapeutic for me to write this since I have recently started struggling with panic attacks. I hope you enjoy!

Panic attacks were nothing new to me. In fact, it was quite rare for me to go any long length of time without having one.

Since meeting Noah, however, my anxiety had been somewhat better. I never really went out alone anymore, so I always had someone to distract me when my anxiety was getting bad. Panic attacks became a scarce occurrence which reduced more and more as our relationship progressed.

Granted, Noah had been taking a break from touring, so he was always just… there.

We hung out all of the time. In fact, it was odd if we weren’t together.

I loved that relationship that we had, but part of me felt guilty about it. Like I was depending on him.

Being near him made me feel at ease. Something that was taken away when he left for tour.

The first couple of days were manageable, but as time ticked by, my anxiety started to kick in again.

It wasn’t like I was having panic attacks left right and centre, but I felt more on edge. Going to supermarkets began to be the most stressful part of my week. I never interacted with people there anyway, so my anxiousness felt unnecessary.

 My stress levels increased the longer that Noah was away, and part of me felt guilty about it, which only made things worse.

I shouldn’t need to depend on Noah to keep my anxiety at bay,  I needed to learn how to deal with it on my own.

He called me every night and after every show to talk about our days and just  spend time together, which was the highlight of my day, but it was still hard being so far away from him. On top of that, our calls got shorter and shorter the more my anxiety took hold of me.

I became paranoid that he would leave me since the calls had been keeping him awake into the early hours of the morning, touring would be easier for him if he didn’t have a girlfriend waiting for him at home, and who would want to be with someone who can barely make it out of the house without freaking out.

In an attempt to break out of this crushing feeling, I invited Jesse out for lunch. We went to a beautiful café that was independently run by a lovely woman called Katie, who was hoping to add a small bookstore to the side of the café since many of her customers just came to the café to read.

Jesse’s ears perked up at the mention of this and he began to ask her questions about the books she liked, clearly flirting, but it was nice seeing him so enthusiastic about something like this. It put me at ease knowing that Jesse was the talkative one, therefore I wouldn’t have to do much other that sit and enjoy my iced tea and blueberry muffin, which were both absolutely divine.

I went to bed that night feeling peaceful, which was something that I hadn’t felt in a very long time.

Noah had called that night, but I was too tired to answer, so instead I sent him a simple text.

I’m too tired to call, but I can’t wait to hear from you tomorrow. I love you.

I awoke refreshed and well-rested which was a feeling that I welcomed with open arms.

My mind and body was freed from any stress or anxiety, which was a rare occurrence since Noah had been on tour.

Getting ready for the day felt even better. I took a long shower before doing my skincare, blow-drying my hair and putting on my makeup. I felt clean. I felt good. Fuck that, I felt amazing.

The only thing missing was a tall, tattooed man wrapping his arms around my waist as I went through the steps of my skincare routine and quizzing me on what each item did.

Shaking that thought from my head before it saddened me, I went about my day.

Jesse was sat on the sofa watching Star Wars whilst making awful lightsaber noises, making me laugh at him as I went to the kitchen to make myself a coffee.

“You got any plans today?” Jesse asked.

“Not really, I was thinking about going shopping. I need some new concealer so I was thinking about heading to Sephora.” I said with a shrug, sipping my warm coffee.

“Can I come?” He asked.

“Yeah of course.” I said with a smile.

Spending time with Jesse had really been my saving grace since Noah was away. He had rapidly become my partner in crime. So much so that we had made as many objects that we could in Noah and Jolly’s home studio upside down, simply because their reaction would be priceless.

“Yes!” Jesse exclaimed, making me laugh.

Once I had finished my coffee, the two of us set out to the shopping mall to spend way too much money, as we usually did.

Our little outing had gone excellently well until we were leaving Sephora.

A girl who looked about nineteen, bumped into me. Granted, it was completely my fault as I was so engrossed in conversation with Jesse that I didn’t see her coming at all.

“Watch where you’re going, dumbass.” She snarled.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry! It’s completely my fault, I wasn’t looking-“ I began to apologise.

“Save it. You’re Noah Sebastian’s girlfriend aren’t you?” She asked with a smirk.

Fuck.

The girl quickly took a photo of Jesse and I before walking away.

“Twitter is going to love it when I post this. Think of the cheating rumours!” She called over her shoulder with an evil smirk as she walked away.

My heart began to race.

Oh no.

Noah was away.

He would see the photos.

Oh shit he’s going to think I’ve actually cheated on him.

With his roommate and friend none the less.

Jesse didn’t say anything, but simply ushered me back to the car park and drove me home, completely ignoring the rest of the day that we had planned.

My body went into shut down.

My eyes stared in front of me.

My breathing quickened, making my chest hurt.

My heart raced.

Oh god.

I was having a panic attack.

I tried to calm myself down by playing Tetris on my phone. It usually helped take my mind off of it.

It didn’t work.

Before I knew it, I was curled up on Noah’s side of the bed with the lights off.

Jesse knew what to do if this happened since Noah had given him a brief crash course, but it wasn’t really helping.

I needed Noah.

Time flew by, or did it crawl by? I couldn’t tell.

Large hands stroked my hair. I could hear a heart beating.

Who was it?

The scent of Dior Sauvage began to fill my nostrils as I looked up and saw Noah’s angelic features looking down at me.

A lone tear escaped my eye as relief washed over me.

He was home.

“Don’t speak baby, just relax.” He whispered. “Jesse called and told me what happened. I was on my way home to see you anyway, so I don’t want you to worry about that. You’re safe. That girl’s post got deleted after Matt and Davis sassed her into deleting it.”

That made me laugh, which made Noah’s delicate smile widen.

“I’ve got you. I’ve always got you.” He whispered.

No matter what happened in my life, Noah would always be my safe space. I felt calm in his arms. I felt at peace, which was becoming rare for me.

As long as I had Noah, I would be okay.

Because he had me.

No matter what.

[celli-ohs]

I Can't, I Have Rehearsal

pairing: socially awkward!park sunghoon x fem!reader

genre: high school au; crack, comedy, fluff

synopsis: What happens when you get seated right next to the most handsome boy in your entire grade? Well you thought it'd be a great excuse to get to know him better, but the guy won't even talk to you! After a mishap in the science lab, you come to find out that Park Sunghoon, the cold-hearted prince of EN High, isn't in fact rude, he's just afraid of women.

before you read: character profiles

warnings: language, physical violence in the forms of hitting and stomping, mentions of pushing someone in front of a bus, sunoo getting revenge on riki

word count: 3.7k

taglist (open): @ancnymcnzjy , @frankenstein852 @tasnemluvs

note: part 1 of my and scene! series, loosely based off en-drama.

Log 5: Monday - May 13th, 2024

“So why do you need to beat up Riki again?”

Sunoo rolls his eyes for the umpteenth time that morning. “Because I have to scare that damn Belift guy off.” 

Jaeyun blinks. “Okay, but that doesn’t explain why you need to beat up Riki.” 

“We’re not actually beating me up. He’s just gonna pretend.” Riki adds. “We’re gonna fake a fight and make it seem like Sunoo’s the leader of a gang. That way the recruiter gets scared and Sunoo never has to see him again.” 

“And who thought of this?” Sunghoon asks, skeptical.

“Me, duh!” Riki stands tall and proud as he says this, only to be slapped up the head.

“Ow! What the fuck was that for?” Riki growls. “For creating the most dumbfuck shit plan I’ve ever heard.” Jongseong sighs.

“You’ll be regretting that when my plan works and I save Sunoo.” Riki grumbles to himself. “Okay stop,” Sunoo swats Jongseong away. “Riki and I agreed to do this, we’ll be fine, Jongseong.”

“Anything he’s involved in already has me worried.” Jongseong throws a finger towards the youngest. “Hey! It’ll be fine, Riki A and C are gonna be there too, they’re gonna be Sunoo’s lackeys.” Riki rolls his eyes.

“Whatever, just don’t get caught up in anything, Jungwon and I have to go to election rehearsal after school today and I’m not gonna leave if something goes wrong.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me, I still have to write my speech.” Jungwon covers his face in shame.

Though he planned to drop out, Jungwon and everyone else soon found out that dropping out wasn’t allowed once you were nominated, as there was only one other person running for president, some second year named Byun Euijoo.

So now Jungwon was forced to actually run, though he showed absolutely no enthusiasm.

“You don’t even care though, don’t you want to lose?” Heeseung brings up. Jungwon nods as they all walk down the street. “Yeah but I also don’t want to go up there and make a fool of myself.”

“Don’t worry, we’re not actually gonna fight, Konon said we could borrow her makeup, we’ll make some fake bruises.” Riki assures the other boy.

“Did she actually say that or did you just steal her makeup without her knowing?” Sunghoon questions, though he already knew the answer. 

“Does it matter? What matters is we save our friend. Which none of you have done anything by the way, only me!” Riki marches forward, leading the seven inside the school building this morning.

Sunghoon slows down and grabs Sunoo’s arm. “Why are you going along with this? You could just call the police, you know?” 

“Oh I already did, I have a restraining order on that guy,” Sunoo agrees as they walk to Sunoo’s classroom. “But this is my revenge on Riki for his stupid April Fool’s prank. I told him to help me or I’ll tell Konon about the time he slept over at my house and he cried that night because he couldn’t sleep without her or Misora.” He grumbles. 

(Sunoo found out that Riki’s prank for him was making him audition for the newest “act” the theater club was performing: Spongebob Squarepants The Musical. Poor Sunoo had shown up with bright yellow face paint and suspenders while everyone else was auditioning for Les Miserables.)

Sunghoon shrugs it off and walks down the hall to his classroom. 

“Hi Sunghoon!” A random girl smiles and waves as he passes her. “Hi,” He gives her a small smile back, and pretends to not notice her squeal of excitement to her friends. 

Just last week it’d come to his attention that Sunghoon was in fact not hated in his entire school, but actually quite popular.

Well in reality, his friends told him.

“You were so scared of girls you never noticed more than half of them are in love with you,” Jaeyun laughs. “Yeah, and now that you can talk to them without running away, we thought we’d tell you.” Sunoo adds.

While he was initially a bit upset his friends would withhold such information from him, Sunghoon’s anger soon morphed into hope: does that mean you are also in love with him? That thought brought butterflies to his stomach immediately.

 Ever since Sunghoon’s come to terms with his newfound crush on you, 

As he enters his classroom, he’s ambushed by a few female classmates.

“Good morning Sunghoon! I got these cookies for you-” 

“Yeah well I bought you some juice, and I wrote you this letter-”

“Move aside! Hi Sunghoon! I hope you like this muffin, I made it myself-”

“Ahem.” 

Someone behind him clears their throat, and he spins around. 

“Excuse me, you’re blocking the door,” You glare right past him and towards the other girls. Everyone moves out of the way, and you walk towards your cubby. “Excuse me,” Sunghoon mumbles, pushing the girls to the side to follow you.

“Hey,” He beams at you, opening his cubby to your left. Before you can greet him, a pile of letters and presents fall out. “Oh shit,” He scrambles to pick them up, stuffing them back in. 

You watch him as he struggles, giggling a little. “Need help?” You ask as you close the door to your cubby. “Nope! No, I’m good!” He tries to play it cool, finally shutting his door and leaning against it awkwardly. 

“Okay,” You eye him up and down before smirking and leaving for your desk. Sunghoon follows you like a puppy.

As you get your supplies out for the day, Sunghoon sits and watches patiently. Recently, he’s noticed something was off with you. You seem to be keeping your distance more often than not, and it’s more noticeable when around others. 

At first Sunghoon thought it was just his imagination, but then he started to notice the weird looks your friends would give you whenever he joined in the conversation.

The only time he felt like you were yourself was whenever you two had a calligraphy club together, away from the crowds. Your eyes seemed to sparkle whenever you two were alone. It didn’t help that he now had a massive crush on you, seeing you shine like that.

“So!” Sunghoon clears his throat. “How was your weekend? Do anything fun?” He tries his best to create small talk, hoping to remove the awkward air.

“Oh yeah,” You nod, glancing at him. “My family and I visited my grandmother, I’ll have to show you the-”

“Hey Sunghoon!” Another classmate calls from across the room. Sunghoon can’t remember her name, but she grins at him like they’ve known each other their whole lives. “Did you have a good weekend? I was wondering if you were free after school today, we could go to a cafe? Jaeyun and Yuri are coming too.”

The girl gestures to his best friend and another girl conversing by their desks. With the way this girl smiles, Sunghoon has a feeling her intentions aren’t just to go eat pastries after class. And using his best friend as bait wasn’t going to bite either. 

“I have club today, maybe another time.” He tries to apologize. The girl pouts. “What about after? I can wait-”

“No thanks, like I said, maybe later.” He waves her off, turning back to you, feeling embarrassed. Just weeks ago he would have cried if he knew a girl was even staring at him, now he was busy rejecting the hoards who got in his way. 

You on the other hand, don’t look happy at all, facing the book on your desk and shoulders tense. “Sorry, what were you saying-”

The bell suddenly rings, and everyone scrambles back into their seats as Ms. Hong enters the class to start homeroom.

“It’s nothing.” You mumble, sighing as your eyes dull. You don’t even look in Sunghoon’s direction for the rest of the day.

Sunghoon frowns as he stirs his spoon around his soup, moping.

“If you’re not gonna eat your rice, can I have it?” Heeseung asks with a full mouth as he points to the pile of untouched rice on Sunghoon’s tray. Silently, he slides it over to the senior, who looks delighted to have a second portion.

“Where is everyone?” Sunghoon finally asks, realizing 15 minutes had passed and the only people sitting at their table were him and Heeseung. 

“Huh? Oh, Jongseong is helping Jungwon write his speech in the library I think. Riki and Sunoo said they’re practicing their fake fight in the small gym with the other Rikis. I don’t know where Jaeyun is though, I thought you’d know.” Heeseung fills him in.

Sunghoon’s frown deepens. Heeseung suddenly clears his throat, taking big gulps of his milk.

“I don’t mean to pry, but are you okay? You’ve been kind of killing my appetite with your weird mood.” Heeseung asks. Sunghoon eyes the empty tray of food, as well as Sunghoon’s previously full tray dwindling down to zero with every bite the senior took. Sunghoon was pretty sure Heeseung was eating just fine.

But when he looked up at Heeseung, for some odd reason his mouth began to speak faster than his brain could comprehend.

“I think the girl I like hates me.” Sunghoon confesses.

Heeseung blinks, shocked. “Why do you think that? I thought Y/n was in love with you.” 

The sudden mention of your name has Sunghoon’s stomach doing a flip. He sits up straight, looking around to see if anyone had overheard them. “D-Don’t say that out loud!” He shushes the other boy.

“What? That you like Y/n-” One glare and Heeseung shuts up. 

Sunghoon sighs, rubbing his face, now stressed out. “Sorry.” Heeseung mutters. “But can I say something? I know we aren’t close or anything,” 

He peaks through his fingers, making eye contact with Heeseung’s big brown eyes. He can feel the sincerity through his gaze.

So he sits up again and nods, wondering what advice someone like Heeseung could ever give him.

Heeseung fiddles with his spoon, looking down at his tray. “I think you should try being more confident. You’ve got everything I’ve always wanted: you’re good-looking, humble, well-liked by everyone.”

“And I know you’ve been working hard on your social anxiety, but maybe you can show your newfound confidence by confessing your feelings to her. Why let yourself get in the way? You’ve gotten so far now, why not go a little further?”

Heeseung’s words click inside Sunghoon’s head. It’s true, he’s at an all-time high for the first time in his 17 years of living. He doesn’t know if he would have ever been able to conquer his fears without you. 

Sunghoon has always sabotaged himself, continuously mentally feeding himself the worst case scenarios, but you showed him how to break those walls down. You’ve been happier than himself at his growth.

Even if it killed him, he needed to tell you.

Sunghoon suddenly stands up from his seat, scrambling out the table. 

“Where are you going?!” Heeseung asks worriedly. But instead of answering, Sunghoon smiles fondly at his friend, running off. “Thanks Heeseung!” He shouts.

“Does this mean I can have the rest of your food?!” Heeseung calls out after him, only to get no answer.

And that’s how Sunghoon found himself running through the entire school, searching for you. 

He’s gasping for air as he checks the time on his watch. He had 30 more minutes before lunch ended, yet you were nowhere to be found.

While he knew EN-High was a giant school, with many twists and turns in the hallways, he also knew you wouldn’t just drop face off the earth in the middle of the school day.

Winded, he lands in an empty hall, leaning against the wall as he catches his breath. Looking around, Sunghoon realizes he’s right by the old library, where you two held calligraphy club. There’s no way, right? He thinks as he quietly enters.

The tables are empty, the room feels stiff, as if no one was there but him. It reminds him of the day he discovered it, where you two had your first real conversation. 

Silently Sunghoon walks around, his hopes of finding you falling. Though he knew he could just wait until later today, he felt as if he couldn’t keep this information to himself, and he swore to himself that he’d find the courage to confess-

Sunghoon stops in his step, head whipping around. He swore he heard a whisper. He stills, hoping to hear it again.

"...swhswhshwshwshwsh..."

There it was again! A whisper! Slowly Sunghoon makes his way down the aisles of books, getting closer and closer to the noise.

“-just say something. What’s the worst that can happen?” Sunghoon recognizes that voice, he peeks through a bookcase, and suddenly he connects the dots.

“I can’t, I couldn’t bear risking our friendship,” You sigh, looking distraught as you talk to your best friend Kai. The both of you are speaking low. Sunghoon tiptoes closer.

“Well sooner or later you’re going to have to say something,” Kai crosses his arms. You shake your head. “How can I?” You ask.

“Well you like him right? Don’t you think he deserves to know?”

Hold up. You like someone?! 

The pep talk Heeseung had given Sunghoon earlier begins to turn into slush as he starts to worry. Who could you possibly have a crush on? He hoped it was him of course, but he could never be so sure-

“Yeah,” You hum. “But you know Taehyun’s-”

“Ignore it, just tell him.” Kai opposes, just as Sunghoon’s heart shatters into a million pieces. He was no longer listening to the conversation.

Taehyun was one of your best friends. Someone you’ve known for years and have done everything with. To top it off, you’ve been helping him more frequently for the elections, spending more time together. It made sense why you’d like him. 

But no matter the truth, hearing it didn’t hurt any less, and Sunghoon had to refrain from bolting out of there and causing a scene. 

Except he does. Because of his distress, he doesn’t realize he’s bumped into the bookshelf behind him, causing one of the novels to fall and land loudly on the ground.

The slam of the book hitting the carpet is loud inside the silent library. You and Kai have stopped your conversation, and Sunghoon is regretting that he hadn’t run out when he first thought of it.

Swiftly, you round the aisle, finding Sunghoon looking at you with wide eyes full of terror. “Sunghoon?!” You gasp, looking just as horrified.

Out of habit, he spins around, facing away from you as he mentally prays you don’t see him if he stands still.

“Sunghoon, I can still see you, you know?” You call him out. Fearing for his life, as well as trying to tame a broken heart, he rigidly turns back around to you. “Hi. Fancy seeing you here,” he waves like a robot.

Kai tries to hide a giggle, covering his mouth. “I’m gonna go, see you later Y/n,” He nudges past you, giving you a playful wink as he leaves. 

You sigh, hiding your face as you mutter something to yourself.

“So I’m guessing you heard.” You finally say. Sunghoon feels his stomach drop as he nods.

Your cheeks are bright red, you can’t look at him. “I’m sor-

“No.” Sunghoon interrupts. You’re shocked, and so is he, but no matter what happens, he was going to tell you his feelings, even if you rejected him. 

“I mean- Uh, Can I say something first?” He stumbles over his words, realizing he probably came off too strong. You nod slowly, brows furrowed. 

Taking a deep breath, Sunghoon bites the inside of his gum. 

“Y/n, do you remember the first time we had calligraphy club together? When we were walking home that day, that was the first time I’ve ever really looked at a girl and not felt scared. You smiled at me.” Sunghoon begins sloppily. 

“I’m not really good at speaking, I’m better at writing, but I want to tell you how much you've helped me these past few months. I don’t even think I’d be able to talk to you right now if you hadn’t encouraged me. I’m really grateful for you.”

“I don’t know when I started to feel this way, but I do know one thing, I like you. More than a friend.” Sunghoon gulps as you gasp quietly. 

“I like you so much, if it meant I’d have to sacrifice everything I’ve worked hard for to disappear just to be with you, I would do it. If I have to embarrass myself in front of our class again, I will. Heck, I’ll even fight Taehyun- I mean I know you have a crush on him and that he’s the captain of the boxing club, but I just like you so much I don’t mind getting my ass kicked for you.” He begins to ramble, not noticing your confusion.

“Wait,” You hold a hand up to stop him. “Say that last part again.” 

Sunghoon freezes. “I like you so much I would push Jongseong in front of a bus if you told me to?”

“What? No! Before that!” You look at him bewildered.

“I’ll fight Taehyun for you because you like him?” He repeats and you suddenly slap your hand on your forehead. 

“Sunghoon,” You grumble, approaching him. Even when you’re glaring up at him, you make his heart race. “I don’t like Taehyun.”

Sunghoon blanks.

“Huh?”

You sigh, again, and grimace. “I don’t like Taehyun. I like you, idiot.”

Now he’s really confused. 

“But you and Kai were-” 

“You obviously heard wrong. I thought you heard the whole thing, which is why I was freaking out because Kai was trying to convince me to confess to you.” You poke his chest with your index finger, looking away shyly. 

“Him and Taehyun have been pushing me to say something for weeks.” You admit. “I’ve just been stalling since elections are so close.” 

Wait. So you like him back?!!

Sunghoon is malfunctioning as you wait for him to speak. 

“Hold on!” He suddenly yells, grabbing you by the shoulders. “Then why have you been ignoring me these past two weeks? You barely even talk to me!” He points out.

You blush again, scratching your head. “I-I wasn’t doing it on purpose,” You mumble. 

“It’s just every time we try to talk, someone interrupts. It’s been getting annoying. Especially the other girls-” You suddenly stop talking, glaring at yourself. Sunghoon cracks.

“You’re jealous? That I’m getting attention from other girls? Oh this is gold, I never took you as the possessive type.” He chuckles. “No I’m not! Stop laughing!” You argue, though your red face proves you wrong. 

As you try to make up some other reason why, Sunghoon can only smile. This is the you he likes, one so full of life and passion. You stop talking, words trailing off as you realize Sunghoon’s been watching you with a lovesick smile.

“D-Don’t look at me like that.” You turn away, but Sunghoon stops you, engulfing you in a hug. He feels you reciprocate, squeezing him tightly.

He can feel how fast your heart is beating. He wonders if you can feel his.

“Two months ago you would have rather eaten a bucket of bugs instead of hug me.” You mutter into his chest after a long silence.

“Way to ruin the mood.” He groans, cringing at his own past self (and how right you are). You two laugh, and as the bell rings, you both walk back to class together. 

“Does this mean we’re dating now?” Sunghoon asks you, ears pink. “I would hope so.” You joke. 

“Good, I’m telling everyone you’re my girlfriend now.” He grins to himself. “Well, as your girlfriend, I’d like it if you held my hand.” You tease.

“And as your boyfriend, I’d like for you to give me a minute, my palms are sweaty,” He wipes his hands on his pants as you laugh, before taking your hand in his.

The two of you don’t say anything more as you walk down the hall towards your shared classroom. Hands swaying together, Sunghoon only has one thing on his mind.

You two were a perfect match.

Bonus:

“Can you believe I’m the first person in my friend group to get a girlfriend?” 

You look at your boyfriend, astonished. “Seriously? I swear I thought at least Jongseong had a girlfriend,” Sunghoon shrugs as you two walk home together.

It’s only been a few hours since he’s become your boyfriend but he couldn’t be happier. He loved holding your hand, it fits so snugly into his own. Knowing that you were all his, and he was all yours now was the best feeling in the world. 

He hadn’t shut up about it since, and now the entire student body of EN-High knew you two were a couple. 

(Sunghoon marched you two up to the front of the class and announced to everyone you were dating. He claims he did this so that the other girls wouldn’t approach him so much anymore so you wouldn’t have to be jealous, but a part of you suspects he just wanted to brag. Either way, you were embarrassed.)

“Hey,” You suddenly slow down. “What’s up?” He asks, looking at you concerned. You’re not paying attention to him, looking forward. “Uh, isn’t that Riki and Sunoo?” You point.

Sunghoon follows your view, and sure enough he finds himself with a front view of Sunoo beating the shit out of Riki. 

“Y-You-Agk! You said you were going to pretend!” Riki whines as he lays on the street, shielding himself as Sunoo stomps on him.

“Gotta make it look believable!” Sunoo grins. Behind him, Riki C is recording while Riki A laughs.

“Should we stop them?” You ask, looking concerned. Sunghoon contemplates the idea, but in the end shakes his head. 

“Nah, they’ve got it covered.” He steers you away, assuring you his friend will make it out healthy and alive. 

“Come on, don't get distracted, we still have our first date to go on.”

Log 4: Monday - April 1st, 2024

I Can't, I Have Rehearsal masterlist | and scene! series masterlist | kpop masterlist

author's note: ahhhhh!!! finally finished with sunghoon's story! what did y'all think? i loved writing for him lol he's such a silly goofy guy stuck in a hot body. this entire plot was created based off that one scene in en-drama where he's like "girls never talk to me since I was young" lmaoo anyways thank you so much for reading and supporting! look forward to mr park jongseong's series next!!

[kiryoutann]

i wanted to rant about simon.

what do you think so far like what are your actual headcanons for the canon simon vs this simon from this series?

my feelings about the actual simon is quite vague. i've read far more fanfictions than bothering with the actual material so my picture of his is not really...constant? idk

but with this simon, he scares me. just to think about people that can engage in such romantic and sensual acts with little to no feeling involved.

or the mc's father. her dad makes me feel such an anger and injustice that i don't know how to express it and i know we probably won't get a satisfying update on him.

you don't like your wife fine i could understand the distance between them, but how can somebody forget their child no matter if they share the same blood or not, after all the time he raised her

leaving all that behind just to start a whole new life. how can that not eat somebody alive

OHH this is actually a good question. honestly for me, simon is probably one of the hardest character to write about because he doesn't give away too much. too calm. too know-it-all.

we're just gonna talk about the romance aspects!

but based on my head-canon of the canon simon, he has those younger years where he avoids romance, but not this actively and aggressively. it's more because he has too much on his plate (anger management issues, PTSD, depression) than because he think he's not good enough for some happiness (but he also doesn't expect/hope for it.)

canon younger (probably 6-7 years after he killed Roba) Simon lives his life without the need for things to turn out in certain ways. as he gets older (yes, the 2022/2023 ghost) and better mentally, he's become a little more open to the idea, though.

he's still not actively seeking romance, settling on one-nightstands and things that don't require any strings attached. however, he's not completely closed off to the idea too. if he has someone he likes AND TRUST (this is already a high wall to get over), he might act on it. but again, not really actively pursuing it and knows he doesn't need it.

and this might come as a surprise, but he's actually the biggest flirt out there—well, at least when it's only the two of you. when in front of his taskforce, he goes back to acting like he's the calm, collected, cool, stoic, scary lieutenant that everyone knows. can't have you ruin his reputation, right?

"it's private but not secret," with him. though it's not loud PDA, sometimes he lets his hands linger in places like your waist, your hips, shoulders. his love language is act of service, gift giving, physical touch—he makes sure to always appreciate you with compliments and love affirmations, but he's never really a man who's big on words.

WHILE THIS SIMON, hmmm.. he's a bit more complicated. and a mess. at some point, you can think of him as the younger version of canon simon we just talked about to simplify it, but even that's not really accurate considering the different ways they handle "all that sappy stuff" (as simon would say). this one actively and AGGRESIVELY avoids romance.

and while they both (my ver. of canon simon and this simon) sort to flings and one-nightstands, the canon simon is more careful and actually follows the boundaries he draws himself. while this simon outlines the boundaries, follows his rules until an interesting bird enters his orbit, violates them, and destroys them himself before he goes around saying "you read that wrong, darling."

NOW, ABOUT THE FATHER. . .

RIGHT! in my opinion, it's better for them to get a divorce actually and Dad still plays a role in MC's life rather than just leaving her. like, i know it'll still hurt the MC but, at least she can still have both of her parents even though in different houses! at least she doesn't have to feel neglected in her childhood.

okay, you hate someone you thought you would love forever, but abandoning your child? whose very existence was created because of you? talk about the Dad will come up in the sequel. hell, he'll even make an appearance with his two ballet loving new daughters. imagine how MC will feel.

sadly, this happens a lot in real life. fathers leaving and starting a new life without thinking about his "old" family. how people shame single mothers but never the absent fathers. people shame many women who have "daddy issues" or call them "fatherless" yet never call out men's incapability of being a real, PRESENT father.

[aesethewitch]

Loopholes

Thinking about general versus specific spells and loopholes in magic today…

I find that general spells are often less effective than spells that are really specific. Or, at least, a general spell’s effects are more difficult to measure than a spell with specific instructions and expectations.

Leaving spells general also leaves room for loopholes. Now, depending on the paradigm you’re operating from, loopholes may not be an issue. But they can cause unexpected and sometimes unwanted side effects, or cause the primary desired outcome to manifest in a way that isn’t ideal.

For another example, consider if you cast a spell for someone to take a romantic interest in you with no specifications on the type of person you’re looking for. That coworker you don’t particularly like but who already thinks you’re neat is likelier to form romantic feelings for you than, say, the unattainable hot guy whose name you don’t know and with whom your only conversation is “Would you like that small, medium, or large?”

This, in my paradigm, is because those connections either already exist or they’re stronger. You know that coworker better, they know you better, and you have more ties than the hot barista you see once every three weeks.

If you want the barista’s attention and not the coworker’s, it’s important to specify that — to close the loophole.

I always think about connections working against me, too, when I’m doing magic. If a person who hates me is the primary interviewer at a company I’m interested in, I have to account for their rancid opinion if I want to get that job. I have to do extra work to either get around, rewrite, or disconnect the existing connection in order to increase the likelihood of a favorable outcome.

My partner and I are currently looking at buying a house (yay!). Our area is pretty expensive, and very affordable homes tend to be… well, to put it kindly… shitholes.

Those conditions (those connections) are strongly ingrained into the environment. I can’t single-handedly change the economy, though I wish I could. And I can’t force a house to spontaneously appear between two existing houses, even though that neighborhood is absolutely perfect and I desperately want to live there. There isn’t room, and that isn’t physically possible.

Well, alright, I suppose I could do a spell to convince both owners to chop up their parcels into smaller pieces for sale, do another spell to make the parcels affordable, and then another spell for someone to build an affordable house on the land. But that’d be a teeny little house and yard! It might work better in a location with bigger parcels and more space between houses, but this is a cute little rural-type suburb, not the country roads further out of town. As it is in this location we’re looking at, to make it viable for our wants and needs would be physically impossible; we’d be compromising too much one way or another, and it wouldn’t be worthwhile!

But I can do spells for houses with specific qualities to come onto the market, and I can include my particular price range! I can do magic to encourage the bank to give us a better deal on our pre-approval! I can do a spell to urge sellers to drop their prices or accept an offer that’s under their asking price but within our budget!

It’s a matter of identifying what I want and what might stand in the way. It’s also about considering the things I’m leaving unsaid, or that could be taken in multiple ways. Like, if I say I want a basement, and we find a house that’s perfect, fitting all our desired qualities!

…except that basement floods several times a year, and that’s why it’s unfinished, so it’s wasted space that requires expensive yearly upkeep or a massive, pricey overhaul to prevent for the future. That would be a hell of a loophole to discover. Closing as many loopholes as possible can help a spell produce a result that’s exactly (or close to exactly) what I expect it to be with as few unpleasant side effects as possible.

Another method I’ve seen, which I think comes from @windvexer, is the “if/then” method of creating conditions within a spell. I find it’s really useful for closing loopholes, since it keeps a spell from deviating from your instructions or fizzling out when it can’t fulfill its purpose as written.

The method looks like this in practice:

“This spell is a money spell. Its purpose is to bring $500 in tarot commissions to me by the end of April.

“If April is not possible, then by the end of June.

“If $500 is not possible, then no less than $300.

“If not by tarot commissions, then this money will come to me via tips and subscriptions.

“If not by tips and subscriptions, then this money will come to me via other types of contract work.

“If any final condition (end of June, no less than $300, contract work) is not possible, I will receive a sign in the form of three cardinals sitting on the hood of my car, and the spell will end.”

Thus, the loopholes I’m worried about are closed, and I have a condition set to end the spell and send me a sign if it isn’t possible. It’s a simple but very effective method that I’ve found really useful for getting super specific in my spellwork!

Anyways, point is, loopholes matter because connections matter and therefore the space between those connections matter. If one of my spells fails or produces an unexpected result, loopholes are the first things I look for. What happened, and could I have prevented it? How so? Then note it down, and do the next spell.