#especially if the school is a good one or trying to be and especially if the staff cares (which good teachers do)

[the-witty-pen-name]

Meddling Mr. Munson

Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: Wayne is your favorite regular at work. Plus- his nephew is really cute.

Warnings: fluff, so much fluff and good feels you’ll get a toothache, allusions to pregnancy, alcohol mentioned, mentions of bullying

The first time you meet Wayne Munson, you’re eight hours into your six hour shift at the only diner in Hawkins that's open twenty-four hours. You’re working the overnight shift, and you were supposed to be relieved at 4:00am, but the waitress who was supposed to relieve you called from a payphone to tell you her bus broke down and she can’t get to work until the replacement arrives. So now, you’re brewing a fresh pot of coffee for the only patron you’ve had before the breakfast rush- which hopefully you’ll be missing.

You chit chat with Mr. Munson while he sits at the counter nursing his black coffee. He works overnight at the plant you’ve learned, and he asks you questions about your college classes. He doesn’t admit it, because he’s not the type, but he really enjoys the daily chats with you as stopping at the diner after work becomes one of his routines.

“You should come meet me for breakfast on your way to school,” Wayne suggests one night when he and Eddie are watching TV. His suggestion is met with Eddie blowing a raspberry and a grumble about not wanting to wake up that early. Wayne tosses his hat at Eddie, harmlessly making Eddie jump. “I ain’t asking,” Wayne reiterates and Eddie nods sheepishly, sinking into the couch.

Your eyes light up when you hear the bell on the front door. You already know it’s one of your favorite regulars before you even look up. “‘Morning, Mr. Munson,” you say cheerfully, “Take a seat, I just put on a fresh pot.” You look up and you’re surprised to see he isn’t alone. “Oh, hi Eddie,” you say with a grin, surprised to see Wayne isn’t alone. Eddie’s brain short circuits because he doesn’t know how you even know him, and you are very pretty.

You step out from behind the counter with two mugs in hand as they slide into a booth. “You don’t remember me,” you tease, filling both the mugs with coffee. Eddie fumbles over his words apologetically and Wayne smirks to himself. “That’s okay, we weren’t really friends,” you explain and tell him your name, “You sat in front of me last year in Ms.O’Donnell’s class. We didn’t really talk much.” He’s silently thanking you for omitting that you didn’t talk because he was hardly there. However, he’s practically soaring that despite that you somehow remembered him and aren’t recoiling in disgust.

“Eddie’s got her again this year,” Wayne interjects and Eddie wants to roll under the booth. He’s suddenly embarrassed that he’s repeating senior year again and he wished you didn’t know that. Wayne means nothing by it, literally just making conversation, and the news Eddie is in her class doesn’t seem to even phase you.

“She’s brutal,” you exhale, “If you want, I think I still have my notes somewhere. They’re all yours.”

“T-that’d be great,” he manages to get out. You smile at him and his limbs feel like clay.

“Yeah, of course,” you wave it off like it’s nothing. “I’ll come back in a few and grab your orders, take your time.”

Wayne is using his menu to hide his grin from Eddie. He didn’t know if Eddie and you would hit it off, he just had hopes. He’s not one to meddle, especially in his nephew’s love life, but when you had told Wayne you didn’t have a boyfriend, he immediately wanted to introduce you to Eddie. He knew Eddie would just reject the idea, so he didn’t say anything.

“She’s cute,” Wayne says after a minute when you disappear behind the door to the kitchen.

“God, cut it out,” Eddie exclaims, dramatically covering his face with his hands. His face is bright red. This seriously can not be happening right now. “Wayne, seriously, you are not seriously trying to set me up right now?”

“I’m just trying to treat my nephew to breakfast, I thought it would be nice. We haven’t done this in a while,” he says evenly, but Eddie knows the truth. “I think I’m gonna get the meat lover’s omelet,” he muses, acting oblivious to Eddie’s antics.

Eddie’s nervous bouncing of his leg is making the booth shake, and the coffee spills out over the rim of the mugs ever so slightly. Wayne slides over extra napkins, and chastises Eddie about leaving rings on the table.

“Are you all set?” You ask, getting your notepad out of the front pocket of your apron. Wayne nods and Eddie is staring blankly at the menu in front of him, paralyzed.

“The pancakes are really good if you’re still trying to decide,” you offer, thinking Eddie is actually reading the menu.

“U-uh yeah, that sounds good,” he replies. You nod and scribble it down on your pad.

“Your usual Wayne?” You ask and he nods.

“You’re the best,” he smiles, passing you the menus.

“It’ll be right out,” you reply, “Do you want me to top these off?” Wayne offers you his empty cup and Eddie manages to shake his head no. You disappear behind the doors again to ring in the order, and Wayne nudges Eddie to snap out of it.

“You’re being rude,” he says, “Look I get it, I’ll stay out of it. But you don’t have to freeze her out. She’s being lovely.”

Of course you’re being lovely, Eddie screams internally. You are lovely! He can’t bring himself to correct his uncle that he’s not ignoring you to spite him, but he’s actually tongue tied and completely fumbling. He can’t give Wayne the satisfaction of being right and he also doesn’t want to say anything out loud in utter fear you’d hear him.

“Food should be right out,” you say with a sweet smile. You walk over to the opposite side of the diner and wipe down a few of the empty booths. Eddie flexes his fingers over his thighs repeatedly to try to relax. Wayne watches Eddie, starting to notice he’s a lot more twitchy than he usually is. Eddie’s always animated but this is new. Maybe, Wayne muses, his little plan might actually be working.

Wayne really only ever wants Eddie to be happy. He’s had a front row seat to the abuse Eddie has received from his peers his whole life. Under the tattoos and the hair and the ripped jeans, Wayne still sees the little boy he tucked into bed and the little boy who sat on the kitchen counter while he helped clean his scraped knees. He wished the pain he had to help Eddie navigate was still that simple. Wayne thought maybe you’d see Eddie the way he did.

You’re nice, and genuinely so. Wayne thought if anyone could see Eddie, truly see him for the amazing kid he was, it would be you. Even if this whole stupid plan of his amounted to nothing more, you’re treating Eddie with such a normal level of human decency and you have no idea how much that means to the both of them. For Wayne, that’s more than he could ever ask for. He knows as much as he’s resisting, Eddie will leave here and go to school feeling a little bit better. For a brief moment in an empty diner, he can see the world isn’t always out to get him. Sometimes, the world is nice- with pretty girls to talk to and uncles who love you more than life itself.

When you bring out the food, Wayne watches the way your eyes linger on Eddie. You’re also being a little shy. He smiles to himself, keeping his head low while he starts to dig into his food. You ask Eddie about his band, and Wayne watches his nephew’s eyes light up, his usual confidence returning to the forefront as he tells you all about Corroded Coffin. You listen, and Wayne realizes you’re not just placating Eddie, you actually care.

“I’ll have to come to another show sometime,” you say, “I say you guys at The Hideout like a couple months ago actually.”

“Really?” Eddie’s eyes widen in disbelief. You giggle, and nod.

“Yup, you guys were awesome,” you assure him. “If you guys ever sell a tape, let me know. I want one.”

As they finish up their breakfast, you drop off the check, and Eddie thinks he might die when he sees you’ve scribbled your number on the receipt for him. The check has been comped and the note read:

“Wayne, Happy to treat my favorite customer! Eddie, in case you’d want to go out sometime? No pressure.” With your number underneath.

The most recent time you saw Wayne Munson, he pulled you into a hug and thanked you for inviting him over. It’s the first time you and Eddie are hosting a holiday in your new apartment.

He smiles as he looks around. You and Eddie have really done an amazing job making a cozy little life together. He smells the turkey finishing up in the oven and he can’t believe he can finally witness his nephew this happy. The two of you insist he sit in the living room while you both finish cooking for him. He’s enjoying watching the two of you work in the kitchen together, moving synchronously like you’ve done this dance a million times before- and you have.

He settles in and Eddie brings him a beer. Wayne looks around at Eddie’s and your new home and he can’t help but beam with pride. This is all he could’ve asked for Eddie- all he’s ever wanted to see him have. Eddie’s still as dopey grinned and smitten as he was the first day back at the diner. Wayne knows you’re the one- he knew before you or Eddie knew.

Eddie’s his son, even if he’ll never be called Dad. He doesn’t want that anyways. But, he knows your the best daughter-in-law he could have ever asked for. A best friend and a confidant from the first day he met you. He’s so glad to have you both together in his life. Little did he know, that tonight after dinner when he’s long past just full- but not too full for pie- Eddie would hold your hand and you’d both sit across from him, giving him the best news he could possibly hear in this lifetime.

His small trio, will shortly be adding a fourth band member.

[im-so-normal-iswear]

Can i request headcanons please? Of ford with a single mother reader with a Child that is friends with dipper and mabel(they probably meet bc of the kids), they are in the town bc reader's ex is an abusive prick that couldn't handle the divorce so they go to gravity falls to start again.

I just really like the thought of ford helping reader to deal with the burnouts and erasing her doubts of being a good mother, also i like to imagine that ford can get very protective over reader and her kid when her ex is around.

Im having a total brainrot😅

Of course!!

Ford x mother reader

When you first moved in its you probably needed something to occupy your kid while searching for a school that summer, so after a lot of hearing around, you decided to take them to the mystery shack for the day.

They instantly made friends with Mabel and Dipper, and as they started hanging out more and more, they started going to the shack almost everyday.

They spend a lot of time at the Mystery Shack, and Ford notices your presence and at first might even be a but suspicious, (still has some bad habits from bill)

At first, he’s distant, as he tends to be either working or with dipper and mabel, not quite paying you much mind, but as he sees the way Dipper and Mabel always hang out with your kid, his curiosity about you grows.

You start having small conversations when you come by, mostly about your kids. Ford appreciates how much you care about your child, even though you often look exhausted.

Ford is incredibly observant, so he quickly picks up on the fact that you’re dealing with more than just normal parenting stress. You’re trying to rebuild your life after a difficult divorce, and he notices how drained you seem at times.

One day, he finds you sitting on the porch of the Shack, rubbing your temples after a particularly rough day. Ford, ever the intellectual, starts off by offering practical advice—time management tips or relaxation techniques he’s read about.

But when he realizes that what you really need is emotional support, which is of course, not his strong suit, but he trusted his best.

He listens to you vent, reassures you that you’re doing an incredible job, and tells you how much your child admires and loves you.

Again, Ford is not always the best with feelings, but he goes out of his way to remind you that parenting is a difficult task, especially as a single mother, and even with all that, your still doing a good job.

He helps ease your self-doubt, telling you how much progress you’ve already made by giving your child a safer, happier life in Gravity Falls.

When your ex comes into town, either trying to contact you or causing trouble, Ford becomes intensely protective. He doesn’t tolerate threats, emotional or physical, especially when it comes to you or your child.

Ford’s protective instincts kick into overdrive. He stands taller, eyes narrowing as he keeps a close watch over you and your ex’s interactions, making sure your ex knows he isn’t welcome.

If your ex tries to approach the house or causes any distress, Ford won’t hesitate to step in. He’s not afraid to use threats, (do you remember when Ford was full on ready to shoot a man because he wouldn't let Mabel keep her pig??)

He’ll give heartfelt compliments, like telling you how your child has grown happier and more confident since coming to Gravity Falls, which he credits to your strength as a mother.

Ford has a knack for finding ways to reassure you with solid, rational observations, making it impossible for you to deny your own success.

He often reminds you that surviving an abusive relationship and creating a better life for your child already makes you a phenomenal mother.

Over time, Ford’s admiration for you grows. He’s impressed by your resilience and your ability to care for your child despite everything you’ve been through. He feels alot of respect and affection for you, which he’s not always sure how to express.

He’ll offer to help you with anything, from fixing things around the house to watching your child when you need a break. You became an important part of his life, so he’s always there for you.

Ford begins to take on a more involved role in your child’s life, becoming almost like a second father figure.

Your child feels safe with Ford, and they even confide in him when they feel worried about their father. Ford reassures them that they don’t have to fear anything anymore, he’ll always be around to protect them.

Mabel definitely sees all this and immediately goes to match make you, Stan alongside. Dates, alone time, whatever, do not mess with Mabel when she sees a potential couple

Hope you liked these ^^

[five-thousand-loaves-of-bread]

on tumblr lot more people know about it which great! that improve life of all AAC users. but pretty much with anything disability/developmental disability space on social media (which need certain amount of cognitive/intellectual & language abilities be on even if have support), good majority you see be teen & adult people who already literate learn language via speech n write *first* n then *independently* learn AAC base on it *later*.

especially symbol based AAC, but all AAC, is new system n hard n take long time learn even when you literate & not moderately severely cognitively disabled. but also, “literate teen/adult independent learn AAC” not at all full face of AAC user community.

as in like. experience of theirs. not universal. independently motivated & able to look up different AAC options different AAC apps, compare n contrast. download app n immediately know how to use, or able figure out by self. first time use app n may be clunky n slow, but make sentence on first try. need learn AAC, but most of that learning is for where words are (if button based), how exist as AAC user in public with confidence, etc. those all valid but not true for everyone who need AAC, especially not developmentally disabled children (& some adults) with complex communication needs.

most developmentally disabled children (n some adults) w complex communication needs who need AAC, can’t just hand them tablet with symbol based AAC app or text to speech AAC app n then wait for magic. many of them developmentally delayed in way, not taught in way that fit them (e.g. gestalt language processors), n their language abilities behind peers, so they can’t read, can’t spell, can’t grammar, etc.

some of them need learn where word is not by read word, sometimes not even by understand symbol, instead is by other people press button n hear sound n associate that with meaning n location on AAC n symbol associate with it. in other words, they learning language alongside AAC.

for some their learn process look like, learn how use AAC say one word. n then much later, try make two word message, “want food” “go school.” “two word message” incredibly common goal for many these developmentally disabled children, teens, n even adults, that is something rare n truly extraordinary for that person that need be celebrated.

for others it look like learn by phrase (gestalt), then slowly break it down into smaller phrase n chunks n finally single words.

many of them babble (click random/seemingly random buttons on high tech device, stim with it, etc). but ultimately, won’t be able learn all by self. need be taught, see you accidentally spill water n crying, maybe you “feel” “sad”, n when that happen you “need” “help” from adult. need learn AAC by adults around them constantly model with it, constantly use it in conversation, show them how use. because they learning language along side it.

but also some of them don’t know what this thing in front of them (AAC… device, low tech boards or picture cards, etc) is. don’t know what communication is or you should do that. don’t know people exist who you should communicate to & with. heard many parents n SLP say they try model all time, try all kind of stuff, but child just not seem interested in it, don’t look at it, don’t touch it, don’t use it.

people who use AAC, not all them struggle with only speech. some them struggle with language, with intellectual/cognitive. some of them very developmentally delayed.

n some people, too disabled learn or use AAC. yeah, they exist.

for people who cannot use / cannot only use speech to be understood, AAC can be life changing. but is so much more complex thing. AAC still not as widely used n accepted n properly taught n supported as should, some parents n professionals n schools still many pushback n refuse. but sometimes answer to “have you tried AAC for them” is “yes, but they need long time n lots help to learn n we not very far yet even though spent long time on it” or “yes, but they simply not show interest even after constant model” or “god, wish can, but insurance only cover if show some amount of communication competence n ability use AAC, while only give 1 month trial, which simply not enough time” (wide spread thing that happen) or “yes. many types. it not work.”

for many AAC users & AAC user-to-be, it not as simple as “be handed AAC n check back in while they figure out by self”

[shrenvents]

hii can you do some dean smut, maybe he and reader meet in a dive bar or sum?? <3

a/n: sure thing, i hope u like 😉😘

Mind Games

Warnings: Minors dni; Smut, v!penetration (protection used), language, fingering, some fluff, some jealousy

Pairing: Dean Winchester x you

Summary: You and Sam go way back. You and Dean as well, though he has no recollection of it, and for that, you make him pay.

Word Count: 4.1 k

...

The night had been long already when Sam texted you—“Hey, I'm in town. Drinks at Murphy's?”—but you didn’t hesitate to answer yes. It had been quite some time since you’d last seen him, and life had a funny way of pulling people apart after high school, though you and Sam tried to stay in touch here and there.

It hurt when he unexpectedly dropped out of school without explaining why, but thankfully he reconnected down the line, and the rest was history. He was just an easy friend, a good one you could pick up things with even after years of silence.

A dive bar wasn’t exactly your first choice. You preferred places with brighter lighting and cleaner, less sticky floors, without an old jukebox playing songs that were a hit, long before any patrons could remember. But Sam seemed to have a soft spot for them. It suited him, really—the unpretentious atmosphere, the cheap drinks. 

As you stepped past the creaky door, the scent of stale beer and cigarettes hit you like a wave of nostalgia. It reminded you of late nights sneaking into bars with Sam when you were underage, laughing too loud, worrying too little. The memory still made you smile.

You quickly spotted Sam, his broad frame hunched over a small booth in the corner, beer in hand. He looked up, eyes twinkling when he saw you, enthusiastically calling your name. Mid-wave, you froze and your heart skipped a beat after noticing who was sitting across from him —Dean. Sam’s older brother. 

Dean leaned back in his chair, lazily nursing a beer and his signature, cocky smirk as his eyes coasted his surroundings. He looked exactly the same, though his face was a little more rugged, and perhaps a little worn from life.

You’d had a ridiculous crush on Dean back in school. Your best friend's older brother. The guy who could make anyone laugh, who strode around like the world was his oyster. But he never noticed you. Not back then. Dean was too busy sleeping around, charming his way through the female student body, and leaving an abundance of broken hearts in his wake. The few times you were around him, he rarely glanced in your direction. And that was fine. Especially now, since you’ve grown up and moved on…

'Of course he's here,' you thought with an internal roll of your eyes, trying to steel yourself for the sudden rush of old, pitiful memories of unrequited love. You should've guessed he'd be here since Sam told you they'd hit the road together.

With a deep breath, you straightened out your shoulders and paced over, mustering all your strength to fix a calm smile onto your face as you greeted Sam, and his brother, who most likely wouldn’t really know you. "Long time no see," Sam remarked, standing to give you a bear hug, which you immediately returned. “Missed you."

"Missed you too," you replied with a pleased sigh. Your eyes then flickered to Dean for the briefest moment. He hadn’t moved, still reclined in his seat, watching you both with that curious tilt of his head. His silence stretched on long enough that it was clear—he didn’t recognize you.

'Typical,' you thought, and your smile tightened into a thin line as you slid into the booth. Ignoring the way Dean’s gaze dwindled, you decided two could play this game. It might be fun, even.

"Dean, you remember her now, don't you?" Sam asked, oblivious to the tension looming in the air as he gestured to you, hoping the in-person image would jog his memory.

Dean’s brows furrowed, and for a second, you swore you saw something flash behind his forest-coloured eyes. Then, as if he’d decided it wasn’t worth pretending, he shook his head, offering you a half-smile. You dismissed the swarming butterflies in your stomach, realizing this might just be the first time he's truly looked at you. And you’ve seen that look countless times from afar —it was the one he showed to the next girl he'd pick up.

"Sorry," Dean huffed dramatically, feigning disappointment having not remembered you. His voice was a low rumble that made your pulse quicken against your will. "Can’t say I do."

And there it was. Just as you expected. You’d spent countless afternoons back in high school, hanging out with Sam, romanticizing his older brother from the sidelines, praying he’d eventually give you the time of day. But Dean Winchester has always been… Well, Dean Winchester. And he always will be.

You leaned back in your seat, crossing your arms with a smirk of your own, mimicking his relaxed demeanour. "Don’t worry about it. It’s been a while." Dean’s eyes narrowed momentarily, like he knew he’d missed something important, but had no clue what. Sam, ever the peacemaker, cut in with a laugh.

“Well, now that that's settled, drinks are on us. Let’s catch up.” Sam pushed a beer towards you and you downed nearly half, already determined to show that tonight, you weren't gonna be that quiet, shy, unnoticeable girl you were in school. If Dean noticed you now, he was in for one hell of a ride…

You and Sam probably spoke for less than an hour, because, unfortunately for Sam, he could barely get a word in with all of Dean's shameless flirting, which you somewhat entertained. Undoubtedly, neglecting him only egged him on more.

Throughout the night, after Sam gave up and wandered elsewhere, drunk and confused, Dean would make bold throwaway comments, steal lingering glances, and release that low chuckle every time you defiantly teased him. At first, it was satisfying—this was the guy you used to dream about noticing you, and now he couldn’t take his eyes off you. But as the hours ticked by, you recalled all too well who Dean really was: a player. A guy who’d probably seen countless women come and go without a second thought. However, now, with him slowly inching towards you, it was becoming increasingly difficult to disregard the urge to go home with him to spare your dignity.

The second the ragged surface of his jeans started grazing your thigh, you excused yourself to get another drink. Strutting over to the bar, you felt his eyes bore into your backside and a shiver racked down your spine. Rather dizzyly, you ordered another drink but were surprised when a tall stranger offered to pay for it. Despite the unwanted attention, with Dean eyeing you both, you selected to make this stranger an outlet for a potential mistake.

So just for show, you leaned in a little too close, laughing at jokes that weren’t funny, ambling with your drink as if you were reluctant to return to Dean. His gaze was burning holes into the man's head the entire time, and you knew this was doing wonders to Dean's inflated ego. 

Then you heard a loud thud behind you, and just as you turned around, Dean was already there, standing close by, staring daggers into the stranger you ironically couldn't remember the name of. Dean then glanced down at you, wordlessly demanding eye contact, and you're rooted to the floor when his hand brazenly brushes across your lower back, to rest comfortably on your hip. "Hey," he smiled as his gaze softened, marking the smooth return of his playboy facade.

"How about we get outta here?" Dean whispered into your ear while his nose skimmed your hair. Subtly taking a deep breath, you seductively beam up at him and note how his grip tightened on your side as if he had to brace himself. "Exactly what I was thinking," you whispered back and Dean's eyes fluttered, and you're so close he likely thinks you're about to kiss, but you have other plans.

"Wanna go?" You asked the man you nearly forgot about, who seems almost as stunned as you sense Dean is. He takes a sharp intake of breath at his rejection, virtually staggering back from you, and the moment his hand lifts from your hot flesh, you slip away and grab the stranger's forearm, swiftly hauling him outside with you, without looking back. As you left, you waved goodbye to Sam. "I'll call you tomorrow," you said with an energetic wink, unable to conceal how giddy you were.

After your dramatic exit, you made it clear to the poor stranger that you had no intention of taking things any further than a walk to your car. But Dean didn’t know that. 

…

The very next day, you made more plans with Sam to make up for yesterday's turn of events, but Dean was relentless. For that whole week in fact. He obviously forced Sam to give him your number, and since then, there have been numerous texts, calls, and unexpected visits. Each time he found you, his approach became more serious, more focused, and still, you’d reject him every time, in a rather absentminded way, which drove him mad. You grew to love the way it made him squirm.

Today was one of those days, at a quiet little bar far from the one you met at, the conversation quickly turned south from the usual banter.

He’d barely sat down before that trademark smirk was back. His green eyes glinted as he leaned forward, resting his arms on the table between you, his fingers grazing yours. The touch was subtle, but deliberate—like he was testing the waters. You pulled your hand back just a fraction, enough for him to notice but not enough to discourage him. You were growing unsure of who you were punishing at this point.

"Missed me?" Dean's voice was deep, smooth, and far too confident for someone who’d been chasing you all week and failing miserably. You rolled your eyes playfully and took a sip of your drink. "Don’t flatter yourself. I just wanted to get a quiet drink," you quipped. Dean chuckled, undeterred, shaking his head. "Right, right. That’s why you agreed to meet me here. For a ‘quiet' drink." His voice dripped with mischievous sarcasm, and an undertone of sexual frustration.

You couldn’t help but grin. "Keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better." You crossed your legs and kicked out one, lightly touching Dean's, and he tensed. He then closed in, his fingers gently touching the back of your hand, this time pausing just long enough to send a quake up your arm. "You like to keep me guessing, don’t you?" He wet his lips, eyes darting to yours, which were shrivelling up with anticipation.

"Maybe," you admitted with a sheepish grin. "Or maybe I just like taking you down a few pegs." Dean laughed, a deep, throaty sound that sounded a bit like a scoff and sent a rush of heat through you. He didn’t pull away, and the teasing glow in his eyes eased for just a moment as he studied you.

"You drive me crazy, you know that?" His voice dropped a notch, and his regard danced across your skin. "Ever since that night at Murphy's… I haven’t stopped thinking about you."

Though your pulse was racing, you shifted away, pretending to be unimpressed. "I'm sure you say that to all the ladies," you taunted with a roll of your eyes. Dean shook his head, his smile fading a little. "This isn't like that."

You raised an eyebrow in mock disbelief. "Oh Please. Not even a little?"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look, I know I didn’t remember you from school. But Sam and I've moved around so much; I never bothered to remember anyone." He winced, as if admitting it aloud stung a little. "Though I have no idea how I don't remember you. I wish I did," he expressed, and he sounded so sincere that you nearly swooned.

"But things are different now. This is different," he proclaimed, eyes wild with a fiery determination. You arched an eyebrow, scooting forward. "So, what’s this been about then?" Though you question Dean, you give him no time to respond, pressing on. "You're just upset that I didn’t fall into your lap like all the others?"

Dean’s eyes were ablaze, and he didn't retract into his seat. If anything, he dipped in closer. "Sorry I hurt your ego," you added, half-sarcastic, half-challenging. He shook his head and his jaw clenched. "Maybe it started out that way," he acknowledged, but his tone held not a trace of his usual humour. "But really, it isn’t like that anymore."

You tilted your head, intrigued by the sincerity in his voice, but confused by his articulation. You’d expected him to laugh it off, throw out a line, but this? This felt… as he said, different. Not to mention the way he was looking at you—like he was seeing you, really seeing you—made your heart skip a beat.

"Oooohhh, okay then," you mocked slowly, drawing out the words. "Tell me, what’s it like Dean?" If you weren't paying such close attention to him, you might have missed how his breath hitched and how his eyes darkened while he inched closer to you. The impish atmosphere between you two had suddenly altered, the circulating tension becoming thick and electric. His hand moved to your thigh under the table, his touch scalding, steady, while his other hand weaved through your fingers.

"It’s like…" He trailed off, his voice a whisper now, his lips brushing your ear. "Every time I see you, I have to resist the urge to…" He paused, cutting himself short as he moved back slightly. His breath was warm on your skin and he peered down at your lips once again, however this time, he appeared vulnerable.

"To what?" You whispered, barely able to get the words out as your heart pounded against your ribs. Dean’s eyes flicked back up to meet yours, his hand tautening on your leg, his thumb slowly rubbing your inner thigh. "To kiss you."

Before you could respond he closed the gap, his lips crashing into yours with a sudden, heated intensity that took your breath away. You melted into the kiss. All the teasing, the banter, the back-and-forth disappeared as you instinctively tangled your fingers into his hair, drawing him in.

Dean groaned softly against your lips, pleased by your instant reaction. His hand moved from yours to cup your cheek, his thumb gently gliding over your flushed skin as the kiss deepened. It was slow at first, then building, and heat swarmed your core when the hand gripping your thigh slid upwards. You felt the pent-up tension you'd been feeling all week, and since the moment you saw him, spill into your actions. He pressed flush against you, leaving no space, and you laid your legs overtop of his lap. His tongue licked your lips surface, grazing your teeth and you gasped, pulling away as much as he allowed.

Breathless and panting, Dean rested his forehead against yours, his eyes still closed, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "That’s what it’s like," he rasped airily, his voice hoarse. And for the first time, you believed him. Things may really be different.

As you got lost in your thoughts, he began to chant your name with that same smile widening. Both his hands then seized your upper arms, shaking you tenderly as he repeated your name. "Tell me what you're thinking," he more or less pleaded.

"I'm thinking that, if I find out you're lying to get in my pants, I'll kill you," you smirked devilishly, peering up at him through hooded eyes. His eyes morphed into a darker shade of black, turned on by your threat. You giggled, lightly shaking your head. "I can't fake this baby," Dean sweet talks, and you note how his manner seems looser now that he's gotten how he feels off his chest.

He pecks your cheek. "You know, I was pretty hurt when you left with that guy the other night," he huffed like the memory still haunted him. You stifled your laugh. "Uh-huh?" His eyes narrowed at your teasing response, though his smile hardly wavered. "You think that's funny?"

"Yeah," you replied immediately with a shrug. "Especially since I was deliberately messing with you." Dean's brows shot into his forehead, creasing it in utter disbelief and bafflement. "I didn't sleep with him Dean," your tone lowers wantonly, "like I said, I wanted to take you down a few pegs."

His wide eyes crinkled as he erupted with laughter, stammering "touché" in between chuckles. You laughed along, admiring how carefree he was at that moment. When his stream of laughter died out, you gulped at the strange look he suddenly showed. "It's a shame," he stated cryptically. Your face twisted with puzzlement, which made Dean's dreamlike expression grow, apparently in deep contemplation. "What?" You snapped jokingly.

"Oh nothing," he sighed while his palms skated down to your torso, cupping your ribcage as he looked to the distance sadly. You smacked his side which made a snort escape him. "Oh, just... If only you left with me that night," he remarked dolefully, unable to hide that glint of lust-fueled wit. "If only," you reiterated with a strained sound, also unable to hide your looping thoughts, which were clouded by desire. "How about we make that happen?" He kissed your other cheek. His lips lingered there and his breath fanned your skin. "How about it?" You responded airily and Dean laughed at your consistent repetition, clearly trying to push his buttons in a way he's grown to love.

Without another word, he slides out of the booth and gently ushers you out, onto your feet, holding your hand firmly in his. With his spare hand, he drops some cash on the table and pulls you to his hip. He walked you both outside, leading you towards his car and you shuddered at the sight. It reminded you of the countless times he'd pick up Sam from school and you'd watch him from afar. The number of fantasies you had of him and that car made your body surge with a fierce, intoxicating need.

He opened his passenger seat and propped you inside, and you obediently admired his every move until he sat behind the wheel. One glimpse of his profile darting from you to the windscreen pushed you off the edge.

"Fuck," you quickly murmured, catching Dean off guard when you abruptly pounced on him, straddling his thighs. You cupped his dome, tugging on his short locks while his hands shot to your waist, dragging you downwards so he could grind into you. You both moaned into the messy kiss, so close to satisfaction, yet so far. He groaned your name when your lips moved to his neck, desperate to leave a mark. He reluctantly tried to halt your attack, but your need overpowered all logic. "I can't wait," he grunted when he wretched your face from his neck. Dean's head thumped against the seat's leather headrest and his eyes were glossy with a sort of determination.

"Get in the back," is all he ordered before he hastily assisted you onto the backseat. He climbed on top of you after grabbing a condom from the glove compartment, following your mouth eagerly, and pecking it a few times as he laid you down. "God you're sexy," he groaned. He then yanked off his jacket and shirt in two swift motions before that familiar smug expression consumed his features. "You're unbelievable," you scoffed and his smirk grew.

"I get that a lot," he commented jokingly and you smacked his side harder than before, displaying your exasperation. He laughed and you threaded your fingers into his hair again to shut him up. His mouth collided with yours, and his hands frantically removed both of your clothes. He sweared loudly when you bucked your hips up and rub his bulge —now covered by his boxers alone. His deep voice let out a surprising whimper when you did it again, this time using your hands to drag him down, clutching his defined hips.

You then had a sudden craving to admit to him how much you longed for this moment, but you opted for: "fuck me." Dean growled into your ear before kissing you rather harshly as he took himself out of his briefs. He cupped your bare breast, which is still partially hidden by your bra since he was too transfixed elsewhere to remove it completely.

When his cock hit your abdomen and he slid on the condom, you hummed a moan, biting your bottom lip in anticipation. "Jesus," he mumbled under his breath when his tip breached your slit. He smoothly glided inside, as if you were two puzzle pieces melding together. Your heart panged and you gasped, while Dean muttered nonsensically. He reared back to look into your eyes once he bottomed out. When he pulled away, his very breath abandoned his lungs as if his soul was now connected to your lips, and you'd be keeping it with you now and forever. For once, he actually felt like putty in someone's hands, and he didn't hate it. Not when you felt like Heaven, after years of experiencing Hellfire.

Underneath him, you remarked on how it felt to finally be touched by Dean... Addictive. Unhurriedly, he guided both your arms above your head, stretching out your spine, and holding your wrists in place with a single hand. The air stilled and you listened to his rapid heartbeats. The tension was palpable as his mouth descended onto yours —quickly going from slow and passionate, to needy and frenzied. Dean suddenly thrust and you yelped, which made him cease his movements immediately. He attempted to pull away from your mouth but you raised your head to pull him back down, unable to do anything else, not with your arms still hoisted above you. You rolled your hips into him and he released a lengthy grunt of approval, clearly understanding that you wanted him to resume his pounding.

He sped up his thrusting and you could barely hold back your cries, loving his strength and weight caging you in, and taking you roughly. Even though his lower half was aggressive, it was still Dean writhing into you, looking down at you with such tenderness, and kissing you in ways that made you hopelessly expect more. At this point, you'd take whatever he'd give you and thank him for it.

"Don't stop," you nearly shouted when your legs begun to shake. He released an animalistic sound, his strokes becoming increasingly choppy. Dean heaves your name, muttering, "You're some kind of fantasy, you know that?" Before you could respond he captured your lips, moaning into your mouth while his fingers slipped between you two. Suddenly his digits rubbed circles onto your clit and you gasped loudly, whining into his all-consuming kiss. You wrapped your legs around his waist and felt Dean smirk, but you couldn’t bring yourself to reprimand him when he makes you reach your climax, which rushes over you like a tidal wave, crashing into shore with a loud sob.

"Fuck," Dean's hips stuttered into you, and his eyes squeezed shut as he came, letting go of your wrists to prop himself up in a plank. He breathed in and out slowly, eyelids eventually fluttering open to witness you already surveying him, entranced by his face when it's full of ecstasy. "That was... Fucking amazing," he panted as he monitored your reddened complexion. You nodded, though you shied away from his gaze, feeling all too vulnerable, afraid that history was repeating itself, and you were already head-over-heels for Dean Winchester.

As your mind wandered into a dark place, Dean's calloused finger pads grabbed your attention when they caressed your jaw, swiping your cheek. "I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did," he chuckled airily to himself before continuing, "and give me a chance to do that again—many, many times."

Now it's his turn to seem sheepish and you laugh, partially in shock. "No strings attached?" You arched a brow as you questioned what you were, despite having not gone on an actual date yet. He displayed a genuine smile as he shook his head no. "I'm already tangled up in them," he confessed with a shrug.

Your heart flipped and you fought to remain stoic. You then lifted your index finger above your nose, right in his eye line. "I'm givin' you one chance... To do that, over and over again," you whispered sensually, biting back your shit-eating grin. A giddy, boyish look took over Dean's face and your laughter burst through, making your core clench around him and he sucked in a sharp breath.

"How about we start that 'one chance' right now?" You purred, smirking at the way his eyes playfully narrowed. "Gladly."

[hyunebunx]

˖˙ ᰋ ── 💜- 'a tender kiss on the partner's shoulder'

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. genre: fluff

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. a/n: you and teri requested the same thing so i tried to make it extra fluffy <3 i hope you enjoy, my lovess <3 (if this doesn't show up in the tags again i'm gonna scream)

You could admit without any hesitation that cooking for your loved ones was your favorite way of spoiling and showering them with your unwavering affection. Seeing their faces light up at the sight of their favorite meal after a tiring, long day was an unmatched experience, along with the content sighs of delight and the faint smiles adorning their features as they chewed happily, recharging.

It was a love language, described beautifully on every page of your treasured, worn cookbook. The one you’ve been handling with care from the moment you decided to learn to cook your best friend’s comfort food back in high school when she desperately needed a pick-me-up.

Years later, honing those skills came in handy as you began cooking for every gathering, be it with friends or family, feeding yourself with their genuine joy and bright smiles. After all, nothing spelt ‘I love you’ quite like a homecooked meal, prepared with care and utmost attention as you danced to the beat of your favorite songs in your small kitchen.

And one person in particular knew all about it, receiving your love in all forms but especially through your cooking. Seungmin had never felt this special until he met you, the person who would bend over backwards to bring a simple smile to his face, longing to make him happy every minute of every day spent by your side.

So naturally, he wished to return the sentiment, needing to bring you even a quarter of all that happiness you gifted him every day.

“Good morning, my love.” Seungmin feels you before he hears you, your arms wrapping around his middle snuggly as your chin moves to peer over his shoulder curiously. “Whatcha’ doin'?”

He shakes his head affectionately, flipping over a pancake with a smile. “I mean, I was trying to surprise you with breakfast in bed but it looks like you had other plans.”

“Oh.”

Not your fault the bed was cold, which had you waking up in search of him on autopilot. Nobody could blame you for missing your boyfriend when you spent every free moment glued to each other’s sides.

Even so, he can tell you feel bad, voice dropping as a pout takes over sunny features. But he can also tell how much you appreciate the gesture, tightening the embrace before placing a tender kiss on his shoulder, lips lingering there when you speak again. “I’m sorry. I can go back if you want me to.”

“Yes, please.” He nods, placing another pancake on the plate next to the stove, diligently building his syrupy pancake tower like a skilled architect.

You laugh, kissing his nape. “Alright, baby. Anything for you.”

Yet as you try to unwrap your arms from around him, one of his hands grabs your wrist to keep you in place. “Not…right now. Maybe in, um, two minutes?”

His attempts at keeping you near a little bit longer were absolutely adorable, heart melting into a red puddle resembling strawberry jam. How could you say no?

So, you embrace him again, smiling from ear to ear as you both bask in each other’s love while the sun struggles to rise on this cloudy morning. You begin talking and conversing about mundane things as two minutes turn into five, and then ten, when you pause to plant kisses all over his upper back and shoulders, congratulating him for finishing the food as he giggles shyly. Praising your talented love will remain one of your favorite activities as long as you draw breath.

“You can go now.” He says, swiftly turning around in your embrace. “But take this first, and don’t lose it, alright?”

You’re confused, brows rising in wonder as Seungmin doesn’t elaborate but moves your arms to settle over his shoulder, his circling your waist naturally. “What – “

He silences you with a kiss, the corners of his mouth turning upwards briefly as you finally catch on, amused, before bringing you closer so you’re chest to chest, just as the first ray of sunshine sneaks past your ajar window.

While he would never expect you to return the pancakes, his kiss was another story. You needed to hold on to it, guarding it with your life until the right moment came along and you could surprise him by returning the love tenfold and stealing his breath away.

You know what they say, an eye for an eye. But in this case, a kiss for another kiss.

[sierra-r-a-e]

Hyyy , love you work🩷 do you mind doing kento being a little bit mean due to frustration or maybe jealousy? Thank you 🎀

Hii, Thank you for requesting!! I’m sorry it’s so late though! 🎀

cw: jealous!nanami, orgasm denial, jealousy(obviously), hair pulling, edging, squirting

Nanami Kento was never one for being jealous, he didn’t care who you hung out with or was friends with, he trusted you.

It was when you purposefully flirted with one of his coworkers to get a rise out of him, that’s when he really gets fed up.

The two of you were attending one of his fancy work gatherings when he spotted you standing and laughing with Gojo, being casually touchy with him. He knew you were doing it on purpose because you glanced over at him, making sure he was watching.

That’s how you ended up in this position— Kento behind you, one of his hands gripping a fistful of your hair, the other pinning you hands behind your back as he pounded into you from behind.

“m’ sorry-“, you say through a moan, trying your best to speak despite the overwhelming pleasure from the pace of his thrusts.

“Yeah? You’re sorry?” He said through gritted teeth, pulling you up onto your knees by the hold he had on your hair and wrists. “You didn’t seem to sorry when you were having a good time with Gojo, now did you?” He grunted, his mouth right near your ear as he roughly pounded into your sopping hole.

You knew you shouldn’t be getting off on his frustration and jealousy— but god, it was so hot.

The hand he he’d been using to pin your wrists behind your back now reach around to your front and to your clit, rubbing tight circles into the bud.

You knew you definitely weren’t going to last long, especially not if he kept this up. In fact, it only took a few more thrusts before you felt the familiar sensation of an impending orgasm bubbling up in your abdomen.

“Ken, m’ so close,” you warned, barely able to form a coherent sentence. “You’re not allowed to cum until I say so, understood?” He spoke, the grip he had on your hair tightening, his hand then landed a light slap to your clit.

Your knees were beginning to weaken, but his strong arms kept you upright as he roughly thrusted his hips into you; the sound of his pelvis hitting your ass creating a lewd slapping sound that echoed through your bedroom.

“Please~”, you begged him. Hot, frustrated tears forming in the corners of your eyes and rolling down your cheeks. His hand was now rubbing torturously slow circles into your sensitive nub, letting your orgasm build up, then edging you by pulling his hand away.

“You can hold on a little longer,” he grunted, his voice more gravelly than before. You could tell he was close from the way he’d twitch every time your dripping cunt clenched around him.

“I’ll let you cum if you promise to behave from now on, got it?” He said, giving a firm tug on your hair, making you moan.

“I— I promise,” you spoke, hardly able to think straight at this point. “Cum for me then, sweetheart”, he commanded, his hand now expertly rubbing at your puffy clit.

With a loud moan of his name, you came hard, this being one of the rare times you squirted all over his cock. The way your pussy convulsed around him so deliciously had him reeling.

He came almost immediately after you, his arms trapping you against his muscular body as he shivered from pleasure.

Once the two of you came down from your respective highs, he spoke, “You know I know that you flirted with Gojo on purpose just to make me jealous, right?”

As always, he had managed to see right through you and your little schemes.

a/n:

yall i have had a rough month. first of all im in the marching band so that takes up a lot of my time, and the free time i do have, i spend it sleeping.

second of all, people threatened to shoot up my school twice like why are they going for colleges now 💀

anyways i’m sorry this has been sitting in my drafts(unfinished) for an entire month. i hope you like it, im currently exhausted as im writing this so it’s not my best work

anyways thank you so much for reading!!

[divider credits: @/anitalenia]

[luna-azzurra]

Hii I love your blog sm ur an angel 🩷. Could you please do like a list or something with examples of nicknames for friends?

I write fanfics in english but it's not my first language so it's a bit difficult for me, thanks 🩷

Heyyy, I'm glad that my blog helps you! 🩷 I’ve written down a bunch of my favorite nicknames, along with what they mean and the vibes they give off. 

Adorable & Affectionate Nicknames

Sweetie: Simple and cute, it’s like the classic nickname when one friend is always comforting the other.

Pumpkin: It’s got that old-fashioned, “you’re my little ball of sunshine” vibe.

Honeybun: Ultimate cozy nickname. You’d call someone this if they’re the nurturing, always-got-your-back kind of friend.

Snugglebug: It’s for the friend who’s all about giving hugs or being there when you need emotional support.

Cupcake: You know that friend who just makes you smile? That’s your cupcake.

Button: This one’s cute for a friend who’s small or just makes you go “aww” all the time.

Playful & Silly Nicknames

Spud: A potato, but in the best way. Perfect for that lazy but lovable friend.

Bean: It’s random but super cute, especially for a friend who’s quirky and fun.

Squishy: For the friend who’s soft, either physically or emotionally, and just huggable.

Giggles: You know that friend who’s always laughing at literally everything? Yeah, this is for them.

Waffles: No reason. Just waffles. It’s silly, weird, and perfect for a random nickname.

Pipsqueak: For the friend who’s short but feisty, like they’re small but will 100% fight you.

Personality-Based Nicknames

Ace: For the friend who’s always on top of their game, whether it’s in school, sports, or life in general.

Firecracker: You’ve got that one friend who’s all energy and attitude? Yep, this one’s for them.

Tiger: Strong, fierce, and maybe a little protective, this is for a friend who’s bold and confident.

Champ: For the friend who’s always winning at life, no matter what they do.

Professor: You know that super smart friend who’s always dropping random knowledge? This one’s for them.

Rocket: This is for the friend who’s always moving a mile a minute, constantly going somewhere or doing something.

Sparky: For the friend who’s got a quick wit or just a lot of energy. It’s short, fun, and full of personality.

Scout: For that adventurous friend who’s always trying new things or planning cool trips.

Nature-Inspired Nicknames

Rosebud: Cute and delicate, perfect for a friend who’s sweet or still growing into themselves.

Buttercup: It’s soft and nurturing, like the friend who’s always there when you need a shoulder to cry on.

Bluebell: Dreamy and whimsical, like someone who’s got their head in the clouds in a totally charming way.

Clover: Lucky charm vibes. This could be for someone who just brings good things into your life.

Lilac: Soft, calming, and just pretty. It’s for someone who makes everything feel more peaceful.

Maple: This gives cozy autumn vibes. It’s for a friend who feels like home or just brings warmth wherever they go.

Food-Inspired Nicknames

Peach: For someone who’s sweet and sunny. It’s a soft, affectionate name for a friend who just makes everything better.

Cookie: Comforting, dependable, and someone who’s always there when you need them. Total softie vibes.

Marshmallow: Soft, squishy, and maybe a little sensitive, but in a totally lovable way.

Gummy Bear: Cute, bouncy energy.

Dumpling: Another soft, squishy one. It’s perfect for a friend who’s a bit quiet but full of warmth.

If you need even more, I’m happy to help! 😊

[parkerluvsu]

okay wrote a request for chiropractor!art or some type of body worker!art a few nights ago very late and stoned so sorry if it was messy or phrased impolitely. if you would be so kind as to bestow some of your artistic talent upon the proposed concept, i would be very grateful, obviously no pressure or rush. please and thank you!

if you’re open to it, picture art being immediately smitten upon seeing you. you’re a little taken aback by his appearance and charm, but resolve yourself to focus on tending to your long aching body and focusing on pain management and healing to whatever capacity you may achieve.

little do you know, art is growing exponentially enamored. he was initially smitten by the way your eyes met his, your voice when you greeted him, and countless other little wonders about you.

he is the picture of professional, externally. no one needs to know he anticipates your sessions all week. schools himself into not losing his composure over the forced proximity prompted by the setting. he grows obsessed with trying to untangle and pinpoint the layers of your smell when he’s all up in your space. he’s being so normal about pushing up your legs as far back as they can go, slowly gaining more and more ground. he definitely doesn’t think about the ways he can bend and fold you right here right now, or the positions he could use his profession to help you work up to. he doesn’t feel his ethics hanging by a thread every time another lovely sound is pushed out of you. tells you to breath makes intense eye contact while coaching you through breathing in spite of overwhelming pain when addressing a tight spot. tenderly talking to you through any pain. touching every inch of you, to get to the root of any discomfort only, of course. he has immense respect for you, especially considering you’ve been carrying immense pain so gracefully for so long.

he knows he can’t date a patient but that doesn’t mean his mind can’t wander…

wonder what he thinks about… gets up to…

anyhow, thank you for entertaining this ask and full respect however you choose to engage with it or not.

thank you good sir.

holy fuck 😭😭 i mean what can i add to this perfect ask?!?!

im imagining that you didn't exactly know that your chiropractor would be a man.. i mean all your previous ones weren't, so when you walked into the clean, organized office and were met with the most gorgeous man you've ever seen.. yeah, you were a little surprised.

but you tuck those feelings deep down and try to be professional, telling him how it hurts when you raise your arm too high, and how your calves keep cramping no matter what you do. and art listens, nodding his head every once and a while and taking little notes on his clip board. but despite trying to he professional, you can't help but look away when his pretty blue eyes meet yours.

then he gets to work, telling you to lay on your stomach while he digs his thumbs into your leg muscles, and you're fighting the urge to make absolutely embarrassing sounds, but art couldn't even notice that if he wanted to.. he's in his own world, letting his hands massage and bend your legs gently, the soft skin sending him almost into a trance, sometimes interrupted by thoughts of rubbing lotion into other places on your body.. wondering if you're this soft everywhere.. wondering how far he could take this without you noticing his erection in his pants.. but art is a professional.. he wouldn't put his job on the line just to get his dick wet.. but that doesn't stop him from thinking about it..

in the next session you two have together (which art has been not so subtly preening himself for), art works on your shoulders, asking you to sit up while he presses his palms into your shoulder blades, biting his lip when you make a noise of discomfort, torn between wanting to comfort you, and wanting to hear more..

after he books your next appointment, art sends you on your way with his signature sweet smile, before shutting himself in his office and cancelling all of his appointments for the rest of the day.. definitely not because hes rubbing the sweet lotion that he always uses on you at your appointments into his hands.. groaning and spreading his legs in his chair to grant himself better access to shallowly thrust his hips into his hand.. the pink head of his cock peeking out of his fist every once and a while.. when the thought of your noises from earlier that day pop into his head.. arts a goner, shooting white rivulets onto his navy blue work pants.

cleaning himself up, art sends you an email insisting that it would be in his best interests if you would have a session with him 2 times a week.. of course just to help you feel better quicker, not because he needs more inspiration for those lonely nights alone at the office <33

[strawbewiemilk]

Ultimate Tips: How to Hide Your E-D Like a Pro and Keep Your Mindset Unbreakable

Alright, listen up. If you’re serious about getting sk!nny—like b0nes popping, b0dy shrinking, can’t even keep your clothes on sk!nny—you’ve got to master the art of hiding it. Because let’s face it, people will try to ruin your progress. They’ll nag you, shove f00d in your face, and act like they care about your “health.” The only thing you need to care about is staying in control. You want to be thin? Then you’ve got to play the game and outsmart every single one of them.

Here’s how to hide your E-D like a f*cking pro and keep your mindset stronger than steel when it comes to avoiding f00d. No excuses, no we@kness.

1. Be the Queen of Excuses: Lie Without Blinking

If you want to avoid e@ting, you better get good at making excuses, and f@st. Here are some easy ones you can cycle through, so no one gets suspicious:

“I already at3.” Say it with confidence, like you just stuffed your face. They won’t question it.

“I feel s!ck.” No one will force f00d on someone who's about to puke. Use this one wisely—especially during family d!nners or social events. Blame it on “st0mach issues.”

“I’m too busy.” Sk!p me@ls by pretending you have too much on your plate (just not f00d). Talk about your crazy schedule, school, work, whatever. People admire hustlers, not e@ters.

“I’ll e@t later.” This is the most basic but works. Keep promising to e@t later, and then just don’t.

2. The Distraction Method: Make It Look Like You’re E@ting

Sometimes you can’t avoid the situation—you’re stuck at a table, surrounded by f00d, and all eyes are on you. Don’t panic. Here’s how to fake your way through it:

Play with your food. Push it around, cut it up into tiny pieces, spread it across your plate. Make it look like you’re e@ting when you’re not.

Chew and spit. If you must put something in your mouth, chew it up and then discreetly spit it into a napkin or go to the bathroom and spit it out there.

Give it away. Offer b!tes to your friends or “accidentally” drop f00d off your plate. The less on your plate, the better. No one notices a slow e@ter when there’s less to e@t.

3. Stay Invisible: E@t Alone, Avoid Me@ls

Here’s the thing—you don’t want people watching you all the time, so learn to disappear during me@l times. E@t alone, say you’re grabbing f00d to-go, or mention you’re on some new d!et that requires you to e@t on your own schedule. If they don’t see you e@t, they can’t make you e@t.

4. Keep Your Mindset Strong: F00d is Your Enemy, Not Your Friend

The hardest part isn’t lying—it’s staying committed. The minute you let your guard down, someone will force-f33d you, and then all your progress is down the drain. Here’s how to keep your mindset strong and avoid f00d at all costs:

Visualize f@t every time you look at f00d. Picture it sticking to your b0dy. Feel it suffocating you. Disgust yourself. The more repulsed you are, the easier it’ll be to say no.

Remind yourself of your goals. Every time you’re tempted to e@t, think about your ultimate goal weight. Imagine what it’ll feel like when you’re finally sk!nny enough, l!ght enough, perfect enough. Is that burger worth it? Hell no.

Mantras are everything. Repeat phrases like “f00d is weakness” or “I don’t need f00d” over and over in your head. Make it your reality. When hunger pangs hit, embrace them. They’re a sign you’re doing it right.

5. Water and Coffee: Your Best Friends

There’s no room for we@kness in this game, and that means no giving in to hung3r. When you feel like you can’t handle it anymore, drown it out with water and coffee. No c@lories, but they fill you up enough to keep going. Plus, coffee is a natural appetite suppressant, and the caffeine will keep you energized. Chug water all day to stay “full” and pretend you’re e@ting.

6. F@st Like Your Life Depends on It (Because It Does)

Intermittent f@sting? Pfft, that’s for amateurs. You need to be f@sting for as long as you can. Try for 24, 48, 72 hours without a single c@lorie, and don’t stop until your st0mach feels like it’s eating itself. When you can f@st for days on end, you know you’re in control. F@sting proves you don’t need f00d, and every second without it means you’re getting closer to your goal.

7. Plan Your "Slips" (But Don’t Actually Slip)

If you absolutely have to e@t in front of people, make it strategic. Stick to low-c@lorie, high-volume foods that won’t screw up your day. A salad with nothing but lettuce and vinegar, some steamed veggies, or broth-based soup with zero substance. When they see you “e@ting,” they’ll back off. Meanwhile, you’re still st@rving and winning.

8. Reward Yourself (But Only When You’ve Earned It)

You don’t deserve f00d—you deserve progress. So when you hit a milestone—whether it’s a day of f@sting, another p0und lost, or avoiding a full me@l—reward yourself. But don’t make the mistake of thinking rewards are f00d. They’re not. They’re anything but f00d. New clothes for your shr!nking frame, a nice bath, a night out where you feel sm@ll and powerful.

9. Avoid "Help" at All Costs

People will try to stop you. They’ll act like they care about your health, but really, they’re just trying to control you. They don’t want you to be sk!nny, because they’re jealous. If anyone starts talking about how you “need help” or “should e@t more,” cut them off. Block them, avoid them, lie to them. You don’t need their pity, and you sure as hell don’t need their “help.”

10. Stay in Control, No Matter What

The only thing you can control is your b0dy. You can’t control the people around you, but you can control what you put in your mouth. You don’t need f00d. You need control. Every time you choose not to e@t, you’re winning. Every time you push through the hung3r, you’re stronger than the day before.

Final Thoughts

Being sk!nny is a choice. And with the right mindset, you can choose not to e@t. The world is full of distractions and people trying to hold you back, but you don’t have to let them. Stick to these tips, and no one will know. They’ll think you’re e@ting just like everyone else. Meanwhile, you’ll be getting sm@ller, stronger, and more powerful every day.

You got this. Stay focused, stay h-ungry (literally), and remember: f00d is the enemy, and hung3r is your power.

[writingoddess1125]

Deadpool Headcanon

Dad!Deadpool and GN Reader

Fluffy Weirdness

Kinda just came to me so enjoy? 🤷🏼

Masterlist <<

Kofi <<

• Deadpool, finds out that he has a teenage kid, (Y/N) by total accident.

• A relative of a old fling of his telling him they had his kid before disappearing themselves.

• His reaction is a delightful mix of shock, denial, and inappropriate jokes.

"Wait, I'm someone's dad? Damn- They must be fucked up!"

• But underneath all the sarcasm and one-liners, the idea begins to settle into his brain.

• A tinge of fear eats at his brain and itches under his skin..

• When Wade first digs into (Y/N)’s background—using his "very legal" skills—it’s mostly to make sure they’re not a mini supervillain in training.

• But what he finds instead knocks the wind out of him: (Y/N) has been in and out of the foster system for years.

• That hits him harder than he'd like to admit- making him pace a bit back and forth in thought.

• At first, he doesn’t know how to handle it.

• His own past was screwed up, but seeing his kid going through the same kind of instability?

• It messes with him. Wade cracks a joke to numb the ache.

“Of course, my kid’s in the system… couldn’t have inherited my charm or good looks, huh?”

• Deadpool starts paying more attention, following (Y/N) closely.

• He watches them move from one foster home to another, each one more temporary than the last.

• Sometimes (Y/N) would get picked up by a social worker right after school, with nothing more than a worn-out backpack slung over their shoulder.

• Wade stays out of sight, gripping his weapons tighter than he should, resisting the urge to intervene... for now.

• Seeing (Y/N) trying to stay strong, dealing with bullies, shifting from home to home, makes something snap inside Wade.

• He realizes he’s angry, really angry. No kid, especially not ***his kid*** , should have to feel so lost and abandoned.

• He remembers what it was like to feel that way, and no amount of sex, drugs, or killing can take the edge off that pain.

• Wade starts leaving more than just quirky gifts. In (Y/N)’s locker, there’s a new hoodie with a note, “To make you feel less invisible. You’re worth more than these idiots know. ~ D.”

• Another time, a stuffed unicorn with a note, "Even the toughest need a cuddle buddy." One day, Wade overhears (Y/N) talking to a friend about how they’ll probably get moved again soon

"Yeah, these fosters are.. assholes to put it mildly" (Y/N) jest to one of the few friends they have. Not knowing the hoodie that had mysteriously appeared had a wire hidden in it.

• That night, a hefty envelope shows up in their locker, stuffed with cash and a note that says, “You ever need a place to crash? You’ve got options. Let me know when you’re ready. P.S. This is totally not a bribe. ~D”

"I'm probably gonna get moved again-"

• Deadpool even starts anonymously dropping hints to social workers that (Y/N) should stay in one stable placement, using his "subtle" methods to make sure they’re treated better. He also might’ve scared a foster parent or two into straightening up.

• It doesn't take long for (Y/N) to get to notice all the changes- The social workers treating them better, and now getting to stay with an actually nice family.

• He watches (Y/N) cope with it all, still from a distance hkwever, but now more protective than ever. He knows he can’t change the past, but he can sure as hell make sure (Y/N) doesn’t feel abandoned anymore.

Mini Shot

(Y/N) sat on the roof of the foster home, the cool breeze brushing against their face as they stared out into the dimly lit neighborhood wrapping their read hoodie tighter around themselves. As they sat something caught their eye—a shadowy figure across the way from them perfectly out of view, watching them from a distance. Their heart skipped a beat at first in fear, However after a moment a wash of a unknown familiarity seemed to hit.

Before they could stop themselves, (Y/N) called out softly, "Thank you."

The figure stepped into the light just enough for (Y/N) to catch a glimpse of their hand as they gave them a casual thumbs up.

Without a word, he turned and walked away, vanishing into the night as (Y/N) watched. A sense of pride in Wade's step as he headed off. He'd done it—he'd helped his kid in some way.

And that was enough..

For now

[whitneybiter]

sleepover headcanons with the school LI's (male) ( ͡°³ ͡°)

mdni

Whitney —

pretty large house, he'd only ever invite you over if his parents were gone for a week or something. casual kind of date night, staying up late and drinking his parents fancy alcohol stash– horror movies and cuddling under a small blanket. pizza for dinner, before heading off to his bedroom. surprisingly well taken care of, and quite large. empty beer bottles strewn about, a desk in one corner with some papers covering most of the wood. he has a twin sized bed shoved up against the wall of his messy bedroom, half of it is covered in stuffed animals and pillows. navy blue sheets with like wine colored pillow cases, some pillows don't even have pillow cases. he barely fits alongside the mountain of fluff, and two bodies is more than a tight fit. he gets genuinely offended when you ask to move them, or sleep on top of them. he insists that you sleeping chest to chest, on top of him and as close as humanly possible is clearly the better solution. it's not because he wants to hold you, or anything. no way,.. he sleeps in boxers, and insists you sleep in underwear too. even if your brought pajamas, he makes you sleep in undies– promising to keep you warm, teasing you if you're reluctant. he's a deep sleeper, and a bit of a snorer. death grip around your waist, his face nuzzled into your neck. he's extremely affectionate when he's sleepy, super grumpy in the morning, even whining when you try to get out of bed before he's ready to.

Sydney (pure) —

his house is average sized, a big backyard making up for the quaint living space. sirris planned out a nice big dinner, home cooked for his dear son and the student who he loved the same. sirris stays in his bedroom, allowing you two privacy. sydney has a long list of rom-coms to watch, deep into the night. only on a weekend though, and even then he's still dozing off. he cuddles up next to you, clinging to your side like an koala, drooling on your shoulder even. you two eat in the living room, staying up late (like 10pm, sydney's a good boy). his bedroom is tidy, a cross hanging over his bed, motivational cat posters hung on his walls. he has a twin sized bed with floral patterning on them, his pillowcases a soft lilac color. his room is calming, the walls an offwhite color. it constantly smells like flowers in the room, lavender especially. he wears a full set of pajamas, long pants and a long sleeves shirt. he offers to share clothes with you, in case you didn't bring any. despite his bed being large enough, he silently scoots closer to you over time, falling asleep with his head your chest, legs intertwined with yours. he's very groggy when he wakes up, but he's out of bed and dressed for the day before the sun has even finished rising. he doesn't rush you, though– working on anything he needs to finish up for school while he waits on you.

Robin —

he invites you into his room after school, happens more often after the two of you establish a relationship. he loves spending time with you, even more now that he knows you feel the same. his bed takes up most of his small room in the orphanage, leaving less room for decorations. his bed sheets are a soft orange, like sherbet. he's got white pillowcases, a bunny stuffy lying on one. a desk is squished into one corner, school textbooks and homework scattered across the space. he has a small tv next to his bed on the floor, hooked up to his console. you two play games deep into the night, ending on a tie. he wears a plain t shirt and comfortable shorts to bed, nervously asking to cuddle, his cheeks flush when you agree. he sweats a lot in his sleep, his damp skin pressing against yours as he clings to you. he's a quiet sleeper, but he moves around a lot. he ends up basically on top of you throughout the night. he wakes up groggy, and immediately goes to take a shower, coming back to sit next to you in bed if you're still sleeping, playing with your hair until you come awake. he takes you out for breakfast, his treat.

Kylar —

he leads you into his bedroom immediately, insisting you stay there all night. his bedroom is a mess, lewd drawings of you, and what looks to be him in some, taped to the walls alongside photos of you that you'd never seen before. clothes on the floor, alongside a few dishes, mainly mugs. his room is fairly big, fitting a large desk with an expensive PC, his keyboard lights up green. he has crumbs all over his desk, as well as a few cups full of energy drinks, tea and coffee. his bed is actually quite clean, dark bed sheets and dark pillowcases. he's quick to rip the photo of your face off one of them, tossing the oddly damp pillow away. the bed smells like him, sweaty and musky. it's kind of soothing as you've grown accustomed to it. you two have your favorite meal for dinner, with a sweet drink on the side. he sleeps in his boxers and a graphic tee, desperately cuddling with you under the covers, making sure you're as comfortable as possible, despite the iron grip he has on your waist. he litters your face, neck and hands with wet kisses before he can fall asleep, his heart hammering in his chest as he clings closer, pressing it against yours. he hides his flushed face in your neck, drool dripping down his chin and onto your skin as he finally drifts off. he's like a corpse when he sleeps, you would have worried he was dead if not for the breath fanning your neck. you wake up to him staring down at you, head in his lap, his hands playing with your hair and tracing your features. he makes you your favorite breakfast food, not giving up even when he burns something.

i might do a part two with the others if this post gets enough attention, however i don't know all of them too well and i fear it would suk (´⌒｀;)

[loveyourlovelysoul]

if you've been a kid who used to ask for something you really wanted but rarely got it and had to settle and be happy about receiving crumbs or something else; if you had often been told randomly something was not for you (for any reason) at all or unless you worked very hard to actually be deserving of it (like getting a good grade in school); if you had to share your dearest havings, be nice and kind to everyone to the point don't have any boundary or privacy anymore (and you don't know where you start or end or who you really are), it may be hard for you now to not feel not enough and to not give up on your dreams deeming them as impossible or even perceiving them as a threat for your safety just by imagining living them or really getting what you want.

you're so used to not feeling appreciated as you are and accepting crumbs and making yourself smaller for others (and giving them all you can), that receiving a small anything you really desire from within feels really impossible and scary. you may even keep searching for every little sign that confirms you you are not enough and you're not going to receive it (no matter how many other signs tell you the opposite, you'll focus on these cause despite being hurtful, it's just less scary cause you're used to that, you're used to live in that place and it feels safe; you're used to make yourself smaller, so even compliments may be hard to accept and you may "decline" them not out of politeness but because you don't feel good enough for them, especially if you feel like you didn't overwork yourself enough to be worthy of them).

if any of these sounds familiar, try to work with your younger self: remind them of their worth, and welcome them in your arms as they did their best. they just weren't told the reasons behind some behaviours and decisions taken by adults around them, reasons that were clear to those adults (prolly emotionally immature ones too) but not to them obviously cause they were learning. not having had those explanations back then made your younger self read some adults' demand and behaviour as if they weren't enough to be loved and appreciated as they were. and that's a natural response by your brain since as a child all you want is to feel appreciated and validated by your parents/caregivers/older people around you, but it's also something so very far from the truth.

try to go slow and give to your younger self, slowly but consistenly. show them that it's okay to receive, to have boundaries, and that they're not being selfish or unkind if they set a boundary and stick to it, even if others ask them to toss it off. that they can and have to feel hurt, if that's how they feel. and remind them that now they have you: and you have the experience to understand what's behind a behaviour or request, you have the courage to ask if necessary, and then decide your answer according on what feels better for you (and not your hurt younger self, in constant need for approval). give yourself compassion, love and care. your younger self needs so much after all they have been deprived of. especially self love. so stay open to receive too cause you really are deserving. you already are.

[ideasarestuckinmyhead]

Theater kid Casper HCs?

And the world is my stage!

Charlie knew you were dramatic already when younger. Everyone called you the actor while he was the one to tell you hey its not that serious.

One time bc of a school play your character was dying and you made a huge scene of blood. Charlie was laughing everyone else was kinda traumatized.

When in highschool that's when it got more fun from you. Bc you joined a lot of the plays.

Charlie, not one to be in the spotlight always came to the shows and supported you.

Cheering the loudest when it was over and rushing to you with flowers he gotten.

If your ever nervous before preforming something Charlie's there to make sure you know he is.

Any ritual you do before the shows to calm yourself he helps you do them if he's needed.

Since you don't really so a lot of theater shows anymore, only on occasion Charlie always tells you one he sees in case your interested and have time.

Charlie def loves hearing you sing the songs you practiced hard for one of the musicals your in.

There is a chance you get recognized in public in the city so good luck with that!

Sweet Pete once tried to get Charlie to use you as advertisement for the pizza shop. The blonde made sure to tell you, you didn't need too unless you wanted to.

In the comfort of your own home, sometimes Charlie will do a small play with you to perform for the lil guy.

He's always asking for what his line was bc. Cas I swear I thought I memorized it but I'm kinda dumb-

Speaking of lines he def helps you with them if you need him too! Especially if you need to talk to one person he'll read their lines so you can memorize them faster.

If you ever get the main role for a play or musical he's so happy for you! Takes you to your fav stop to eat to celebrate it!

If you don't he's there to comfort you and ask about what role you did get.

But if you didn't get any of the roles he tells you it's their lost and that there's more plays that'll take you!

For any of the plays that let you take the costume home, he loves seeing you show them off. Complements the coustum designer how it looks amazing on you!

Soemtimes things happen and if you do get hurt on set Charlie makes sure you take time to heal. Saying it's okay if you need to drop out, especially if you do break something.

For musicals there's lots of songs so he makes sure you drink lots of water and take breaks to rest your vocal cords. For a lot of this he's using Google bare with him-

In all, Charlie would be very supportive and try helping you in any way he can to make the stress of an upcoming play or musical easier for you.

[delusion-mostly]

Regina George x Reader

Part 2/32

Warnings: suggestive flirting, reader gets injured, lots of cussing, mention of pain medication

Word count: approx. 1,805

The next day you see Regina at her lunch table. Even after last year she still sits with Cady, Karen, and Gretchen. She waves you over.

"What the fuck did I say about talking to me George? Especially after last nights words I REALLY am not interested in speaking with you." You whisper-yell at her.

"You didn't add me to that stupid group, I have no clue when things happen. Missed that detail didn't you sweetie." She gives you a condescending smile.

"Hm, call me sweetie one more damn time and your ass will be facedown in the ice. Got it George? When it comes to my sport you respect me or get the fuck out," you send a link to the group chat to her as you rant, and finally look up at her, "you know I was willing to be nice, and potentially be acquaintances this season, but after what you said? I was trying to help you and you had to be a bitch. Same old Regina."

You walk to your table with your teammates, Kendall and Mac, and slam your tray down. You don't know why, well, you do; but Regina filled you with a red hot hate. Worse than any other person you have ever met. Worse than the girls who took your state championship away from you, worse than your exes, worse than your bullies. Regina made you burn with anger, but damn did she look good with that condescending smile on her face.

She walks by your table, picking you up by the arm and drags you with her as she walks out of the room. You don't want to make a scene, so you don't fight it and instead walk next to her; besides, Regina on your arm made girls look at you. She pulls you into the nearest empty classroom and you yank yourself out of her arm.

"What the actual fuck." You swipe your letterman down.

"Y/N. I'm sorry. Okay? I lashed out. My back hurt, it was raining, I didn't like the way you treated me at practice. I have a lot on my plate. i didn't mean to yell at you," she sighs, you aren't convinced, "You were trying to be nice, I understand. I shouldn't have gotten so angry. I really am sorry."

"Oh it's never your fault, is it? The burn book was Cady's. Total bullshit by the way," you put your hands in the warm pockets of your wool letterman and pace, "and you lashing out was all your stress, and your pain, and I guess me?" You sarcastically laugh and throw your hands up, dragging the sides of your jacket up with you.

"Oh my god. No. I admit it. The burn book? Me. Me lashing out? Well, I should have kept that inside. I really didn't mean to. And I know why you were so mean, it's because I was mean first."

"Right on the money, Miss George. Now tell me, did we learn how to properly apologize in elementary school? Or do I need to teach you how to lace up skates AND apologize."

You sit on the teacher's desk, it squeaks under your weight. Regina turns bright red and looks like shes about to cry, she tilts her head down and fidgets with her sleeve. A tear streaks down her face, mascara rolling with it, and she swipes at it with her blue sleeve, leaving the spot a muddy blackish grey.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. For practically calling you a slut, saying you couldn't score points, AND for lashing out. I don't actually have that big of a problem with your sexuality." She gets out.

"Thank you. And I figured you didn't, it's just the first thing you notice to pick on me about. I'm not ready to accept your apology yet, or talk to you. But maybe, just maybe, we can learn to get along," the bell rings and you open the door to leave, "peace out George."

———

That night at practice Regina walks in almost the same time as you. You try to be civil by holding the door open, and she gives you a small smile as she walks through. You still hate her, but she has a nice smile. You walk down the steps leading into the locker room. You quickly change into your practice jersey, pants, and skates after putting on your gear, and you head on to the ice.

"Listen up ladies. We still have 2 months until our first game, but I am putting us on this ice early. Short practices for now, but it gives us more time to enhance our skills since we are playing the fall and spring season," you spoke, and the girls cheered, "so like yesterday, drills until 4:30 then everyone can go. Everyone knows Regina, she's our new manager. Leave your messes for her." You joke, and everyone starts skating laps.

For an hour you trade off teammates. 2/3 of the team will use half of the arena to skate down and backs, the left over 1/3 practices making shots while swapping out goalies. The clock lets out a loud buzz as it did last time, and everyone shoots their final shot and exits to the locker room, except you. You stay and keep skating around the pucks.

Regina laces her skates up and grabs the net that the pucks go in, then skates around the ice with the goal, collecting them all and stuffing them in. She leaves 5 pucks for you to keep shooting with. The click of the puck against the ice and walls as it bounces into the net made your brain happy, especially as Regina left you alone to go put away the others.

Regina suddenly hears a loud scream as she sets the puck bag into its spot and quickly hurries onto the ice to see you gripping your ankle tightly with your helmet thrown on the ground.

"Damnit I slid." You shout, ripping off your gloves and throwing them.

"What happened!?" Regina kneels beside you, concern laced in her voice.

"I was grabbing the net to collect the pucks, one wrong move and my skate got caught in the..." you started to yell, "damn net!"

"Where are your keys." Regina asked seriously.

"What do you mean 'where are my keys'? In my bag, why do you need my keys?" She begins to walk to the locker room, "Regina George, I may not like you but you better not leave me here!"

She rushes back up the steps, keys in hand, "I'm pulling your car up. You can't walk on this, let alone drive." And she exits

You set your head back on the ice, pain shooting through your leg. Maybe she really felt bad for what she had said, maybe this was her way of truly apologizing? Or had she actually changed and wanted to be helpful.

She rushes back in and helps you up to pull you off of the ice, you limp while putting most of your weight onto the blonde girl beside you. She puts you on a bench in the locker room, unlacing your skates and setting them in your locker. She reaches to pull down your pants.

"Woah! George this isn't what I thought you meant when you said you didn't have a big deal with my sexuality! Not the time!" You stop her.

"Don't flatter yourself captain. This is to get you into something more comfortable, and so you can fit in your own car. I don't have to but it would sure be easier." She looks at you sternly as you begrudgingly nod.

She pulls off the gaurds you have over your shins and then starts pulling off your pants, you look away and try to help as the awkwardness is unbearable. She opens up your locker and pulls out the grey sweats you had tucked away. She does the same with your jersey and a black tank top you had.

"I very easily could have gotten the jersey myself, George. Someone being nice today?" You playfully punch her arm.

"Don't be weird Y/N. Now get up. I'm taking you home." She helps lift you and wraps your arm around her, assisting you to your car.

She puts you in, gets in on the drivers side, and buckles herself, "where am I going, captain?"

"Where did that name come from?"

"Being captain of the hockey team is like, your one personality trait outside of being a massive player, Y/N." She chuckles.

You direct her to your house, which is nearly 20 minutes from the school. Aside from you telling her where to turn and the occasional groan in pain, the ride is rather quiet. It is incredibly awkward.

She pulls in to your driveway and helps you out, getting you to your front door and knocking. Your mom steps out, concerned, looking down at you holding your foot off of the ground.

"Y/N Y/L/N not again! Goodness. And you make this poor girl drive you home? Come in sweethearts come in!" She opens up the door and Regina guides you as you limp in, setting you on the couch and sitting beside you.

"This one is such a clutz. She did the exact same thing last year you know. Let me guess, skate in a net? We are still getting the prescription from that one! Oh goodness where are my manners," your mom holds out her hand to Regina, "I’m Patricia, but you can call me Pat. Would you like to stay for dinner?"

"Oh no ma'am I have to start my walk home, thank you though!" Regina awkwardly declines.

"Oh nonsense! Y/N can't drive right now and I have to pick up her pain medication so why don't you just stay the night! It has been so long since she has had any friends over aside from Kendall." Your mom continues. You hope she shuts up.

"You know, Pat, that sounds wonderful," Regina smiles and looks over at you, her look growing more spiteful, "I will call my mother right now, you have a very safe drive to the pharmacy and I truly thank you for opening your home!" She gets up to call her mom.

Your mom kisses you on the forehead and exits into the garage. You hear the mechanical whir open, then shut. The couch dips beside you.

"Now you have to listen," Regina looks at you, "Can we please talk about my apology?"

You certainly did not want to accept the apology, but you couldn't run away from it now.

Well. Shit.

[sissyloverblogpostsstuff]

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Relationships (main ones):

Deuce Spade & Grim:  This trio shares a bond that feels like family. Deuce teaches Whitney basic self-defense, while Whitney keeps both Grim and Deuce out of trouble. And Grim… well, he keeps them entertained in his own unique way. Deuce even offered Whitney a place to stay at his house during school breaks, extending the same offer to Grim. To Whitney, they remind her of her younger brothers.

Cater Diamond:  Cater is one of Whitney’s closest friends. While he tries to help her adapt to modern times and better understand the magical world, Whitney clings to some of her old habits. In return, she teaches him small skills she’s held onto, like sewing and sharing her love for classic literature. Their friendship is a balance of old and new, each learning from the other’s world.

Malleus Draconia: Most people assume Whitney has had a crush on Malleus for quite some time, but the reality is more complex. Whitney feels a deep sense of intrigue and even admiration toward Malleus, seeing him as if he stepped straight out of a fairytale—a character brought to life before her eyes. Meanwhile, Malleus enjoys listening to Whitney’s stories, captivated by the way she brings old tales to life. Rather than texting or using modern technology, they exchange handwritten letters, preserving a touch of old-world charm in their friendship.

Piper & Jeanne Hook (ocs by @midnightmah07):  In their first meeting in Book 3, Whitney mistakenly thought Jeanne was a boy. Piper, who was present and always ready for a good tease, immediately jumped in and decided she wanted to be friends with Whitney. Though it was an honest mistake, Whitney—being from the 1900s—wasn't used to seeing masculine women, which made her feel a bit out of place. She quickly bonded with Piper, who often teased Jeanne for fun, while Jeanne’s boldness unnerved Whitney. However, things shifted when Whitney stopped spending as much time with Piper. Jeanne’s attitude softened, especially after it became clear that Piper had been flirting with another girl right in front of Whitney. This revelation brought Jeanne and Whitney closer, with Jeanne becoming less harsh and more understanding.

♡ Ace Trapolla:  Ace treating Whitney like just another buddy to tease, while Whitney is simply trying to adjust to life in Twisted Wonderland. They hang out often, banter back and forth, and get on each other's nerves—like classic friends who can’t seem to stay apart. Ace enjoys poking fun at her old-fashioned manners and the way she calls everyone "Mister" or "Miss," while Whitney scolds him for his mischievous behavior. They’re always bickering in a light-hearted way, and it’s clear they have a special bond, but neither of them sees it for what it really is. To everyone else, though, it’s obvious—they’re completely clueless about the growing feelings between them. But they just think they’re good friends. Both of them are completely oblivious to the fact that they act more like a couple than just pals—always lending a hand, spending time alone without thinking too much about it, and feeling oddly protective over each other. However, this two will take awhile to figure that out.

Relationships with the cast:

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