#and even though I deserve better I'm not entitled to it

[helpimstuckinafandom]

So I decided to read Cruel Prince because one of these popular book series has to be good and Holly Black wrote Spiderwick so I trust her more than other authors and I'm 100 pages in and so far I like the protagonist her and her sisters are all valid for the way they feel in this situation and I'm mad curious to find out why Cardan is so cruel and all that I guess

[star-anise]

Currently getting my socks clean blown off by Rethinking Narcissism, by Dr. Craig Malkin. Which I found, in a roundabout way, from this video on Midsommar, grief, and narcissism.

Tonight I woke up from a nap and accidentally took my morning meds, so I'm going to be up for a few hours because of the meth. In place of sleep, I'll try to roughly sum up some basic ideas proposed by the research the book is based on:

That traits of "narcissism" like entitlement, grandiosity, and feeling special are not inherently toxic. There are times and places they are appropriate and beneficial. If you show up at a hospital with a gunshot wound to the chest, you should not sit and wait to be seen after people with earaches and coughs. (Actually, medical systems are designed to prioritize people with more urgent needs, and you qualify under that system. You are special and are deserving of different treatment than those others, which is why making your needs known, even insisting on it if you're not listened to appropriately the first time, is an extremely good idea. It keeps you from bleeding to death on the floor, and keeps the hospital from getting its pants sued off by your heirs.)

It is more useful to view "narcissism" not as an inherent immutable personality trait, but as a cluster of coping mechanisms. As previously stated, there are times they are exactly the right coping mechanism for the job. However, people we call "narcissists" tend to cling to these ones even when they become detrimental to themselves and others, often because they lack other ways of regulating their emotions and getting their needs met. And that is something they can change, if a person is willing to put in sincere and difficult work. It is not usually fast change; it's a matter of years, not weeks. But a skillbuilding approach turned Borderline Personality Disorder from an immutable curse to a fully treatable (though not quickly treatable) condition, and there's a lot of hope that it can do the same for Narcissistic Personality Disorder.

Meanwhile, there's an opposite end to the narcissism spectrum, and it is also pathological and destructive to hang out there all the time. It's an aversion, or even a resistance, to expecting yourself or other people to treat your own feelings, thoughts, ideas, needs, or preferences as important. For Greek mythology reasons, its proposed name is Echoism.

Unfortunately, because most of the damage echoism does is, by its very nature, localized to its sufferer and their own personal relationships, its downsides aren't often talked about. In fact, it's often seen as an ideal moral state, a kind of altruism or saintliness everyone should strive for. As a pathological coping mechanism a person is trapped in, though, it's often more a fear-based reflex than a conscious and deliberate attempt to achieve some real and specific good. It's not actually as beneficial as being able to recognize your needs, desires, positive aspects, and areas of competence or excellence, and bring them forward in your relationships with other people and yourself.

To me this has all been a cross between a gut-punch and a cool, sweet drink of water. There have been other ways to describe echoism over the years, but this feels like the most concise and useful one I've seen in ages.

It specifically puts its pin down in the middle of the moral debate a lot of people struggle with—"What right do I have to put myself forward? What hope do I have of being seen and accepted? Isn't it better not to burden anybody else?"—and says that the problem is not feeling in touch with either side of the equation, but specifically, the inability to move from one part of the spectrum to another when it's merited by circumstances.

When I was a child, I thought Echoism was the answer. It was my ideal. I thought it was what would get me the love and acceptance I wanted, and would keep me safe from the pain of rejection or not being understood. I had no idea it would actually, in fact, be the primary cause of alienation and loneliness for the rest of my life.

Now I'm so deeply thankful I couldn't fully achieve it, in practical terms. As hard as I tried to erase myself, there were always things I loved too much to suppress. I still found ways to express and discover myself in the books I read, the stories I wrote, the intellectual work of school and the experience of pursuing hobbies I loved, my ambitions to be helpful even when they demanded I stop being selfless, and the relationships where I felt safe enough to experience love and acceptance even if I didn't think I deserved them.

There's this question I found a while back that echoed in my bones: Who am I allowed to be around you? Because that's what I felt like, as a child. If I wanted to engage with other people and minimize my risk of harm, it was my job to bend into a pretzel and fit the shape they wanted. And thank god, thank god, thank god, I couldn't fully do it. Despite everything, there were parts of me too strong and bright to lop off completely to get my arms and legs inside the carriage. I was able to take care of myself and let them grow in secret until I found social places I could let them out again. Despite myself, I found ways to grow and thrive, well beyond the trauma that said I shouldn't have.

[sttm99]

Bakugo falling for a 'popular' girl.

Sometimes Bakugo felt stupid for falling for you. Not that there was anything wrong with you, or that you weren't up to standard. Quite the opposite. Quite frankly, you were out of his league.

You were one of those crazy pretty Management Course girls that had boys and even girls falling at your feet. You were so used to being hit on and flirted with, it was like you were desensitised to it.

He'd held open the cafeteria doors for you one afternoon, much to the amazement of his friends. They gawked as he stood near the door, holding it open for you and one of your friends, and instead of receiving some blushy words of appreciation, you just muttered a dismissive thanks and walked through without sparing him a glance.

He stood there for the next few minutes, fists clenched by his side, head turned down with wide eyes and red cheeks, whilst Kirishima, Kaminari and Sero guffawed.

Then he looked back up in your direction, and watched as some random boy literally ran over to pull out your seat for you, and another had even gone to get your food tray so you wouldn't have to.

He paused.

Was that what he was competing with?

How would you ever notice him if every other boy in school practically worshipped the ground you walked on?

He began brainstorming, with the help of Kaminari, because he was considered to be the more romantic one of his friends.

"You just keep proving why I was right to call you Dunce Face!" Bakugo yelled at his blonde friend, cursing at and dismissing every single idea he'd been given.

"I think Kami's actually got some good stuff, Bakugo. You're just picky." Sero defended.

But of course Bakugo was picky. This was you! He'd watched you, studied you, despite how creepy that sounded. He knew the things you'd scoff at and scorn, and he knew the things you wouldn't even bat an eyelash at.

"You're all idiots!" He yelled at them and stalked over to his room, slamming his door shut behind him and pacing the space.

It was later that evening, that Kirishima had pulled him aside and told him to just be forward with you.

"Just go talk to her. Like, actually talk. Not opening the door, or pulling out her chair and expecting her to fall at your feet. It doesn't work that way."

Bakugo contemplated it, turned the idea over and over in his head. He nodded at Kirishima's words, deciding that would be what he would do.

He wasn't some blushy boy that couldn't get any words out once in your presence, and he wasn't some entitled brat that thought he deserved your favour for doing the bare minimum.

He was better than all those idiots. And he'd show that.

The next day at school, he caught you on your way to lunch, stopping you and asking for your time.

"Sorry," you began, your pretty, fake smile making its way to your lips as you looked at him. "But I'm really in a hurry right now. Maybe later?" You said softly.

He knew that wasn't true. It was a tactic you used, the same sequence of words you gave all the boys so as to avoid stupid confessions like his.

But he was better than them.... he'd show you.

"Please," he said, resisting the urge to bite at his lips at how uncharacteristic of him this was. "I just- I want to ask you something."

You sighed softly, looking at the girls by your side and urging them to walk forward. They did, but not before offering Bakugo sympathetic smiles, as though they knew you'd reject him, as though they knew he'd come out of the conversation with a broken heart.

"What is it?" You said to him, one hand on your hip and your weight on one leg. "I really don't want to miss lun-"

"One date." He blurted out quickly, wanting to go through with it before any nerves caught up with him. He wasn't used to this; asking girls out, flirting, courting. He'd never participated in the stupid, juvenile acts of romance with his peers, when everyone was just realising that the opposite sex wasn't all that disgusting.

He didn't know how to do this, but he wanted you, badly.

"A date, huh?" You said with a slight smirk, pushing away the strands of hair that had fallen over your forehead.

You could admit the blonde haired boy standing before you was attractive, very much so; with wide shoulders and bulky arms, and a sharp jaw and intense red eyes.

That, and he was Katsuki Bakugo. A student notorious for his refusal to indulge in romance with his peers, considering himself above it, and finding the whole ordeal to be a distraction from his goals. That driven, obtuse boy was standing here asking you for a date.

It swelled your ego just a bit.

He nodded. "One date. I-"

"You do realise that you asking me for a date doesn't exactly make you stand out from all the other boys." You cut him off with bored eyes.

He almost gapes at you.

"They all do this, ask me out cause they think they're better, or different from the ones that hold the door and pull out my chair. I reject them. All of them. Why shouldn't I reject you, Bakugo?" You ask.

He steels his resolve, taking a step to you, almost dwarfing you in his height and mass. He's big, and he knows it.

"You know my name. Do you know the names of those shitty idiots that drool over you?" He raised a brow.

You scoffed. "Even if-"

"You should know that I'm never one to play games. I don't believe in wasting my time. I want to spend it with you..., because I like you. Even if I don't know you all that much, Yn. One date. Let me prove it. That I'm worth it."

You stayed silent for a moment, a little smile tilting your lips upwards. "A restaurant date... cause you're making me late for lunch. So the good stuff will be gone."

He chuckled softly, the sound rich and throaty. "I'll give you anything you want, Yn."

You smiled at that. "Really?" You teased.

He took another step to you. You could smell his cologne now, could see some of the little blemishes on his pale skin.

"I'll give you everything. Whatever you desire."

You nodded smugly. "I like that. Good."

"So...?"

"When's the day?" You smiled up at him coyly.

"Saturday. I'll pick you up at 8?"

You nodded. "Alright then. See you Saturday, Bakugo." You offered him a small wave as you walked past him, making your way into the cafeteria.

[uravitypng]

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝'𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡

pairing: denki kaminari x reader

word count: 4.8k words

a/n: i'm so glad i finished this and i hope you all like this because i loved writing this. denki's girlfriend is possibly one of the worst people ever...

content warnings: cheating(denki cheats on his girlfriend with reader), praise, unprotected sex, creamie/coming inside, body worship, denki's girlfriend is the absolute worst, multiple orgasms, pining, reader has some self esteem issues and self doubts but denki shows her how perfect she is, oral(f!recieving), denki calls condoms rubber, reader is in denial, petnames, reader is hinted to be chubby, - mdni/18+

you didn't even want to be here... you always got a bad vibe off of them. you're 'friends' with mina but just barely, yet somehow she's dragged you to a party with people who you're definitely not 'friends' with.

at least kaminari is here, he always smiles at you and makes conversation with you even if his girlfriend is a total bitch and probably is the worst out of all of them.

you miss the time before you knew they were dating. somehow after finding that out his girlfriend seemed even worse and more entitled.

you walk into the kitchen in hopes to get another drink but instead you hear that bitch and you had a feeling she was originally talking about you and it was confirmed when she said your name. "i don't know why she's even here. the only reason mina invited her was out of pity." she says spitefully. your eyes well up with tears, maybe you did get invited out of pity, mina is someone who would do that, she knows you don't have many friends.

this whole time you don't realise kaminari is behind you hearing the same thing you are and his face twists in disgust as he hears his girlfriend carry on speaking, "she's just so boring, it's no wonder she's single." your heart fills heavy, it's not your fault that you're single you've just never found someone you clicked with, you blame it on all the fictional characters you like and you often compared them to all your potential relationships. "she's ugly. it's almost a crime that she's at a party with us, that she's in hinami's home. when i started dating kami i met some of his other friends from school when he was younger, that's when i met mineta. the really short one y'know? short, pervy and unattractive, all around terrible guy. he's probably going to be single for the rest of his life, the only way he's not is if he dates her and even then it'll be him who's the more better looking one." they laugh.

why, why, why? what did you ever do to them?

you know you're not the most interesting or the most attractive but you don't deserve this- no one does. you don't want to make a scene but you have to leave, you can't stay here any longer. you wish you could speak up for yourself but you can't and even if you could what good would it do? so you decide to leave before you start hyperventilating, before saying goodbye to mina. turning around to leave when you literally bump into kaminari and there's an expression on his face that you've never seen before and he doesn't even try to hide it.

he looks angry. more than angry, he looks pissed. he's gripping hold of the beer he's drinking so hard that his hands are becoming white around the bottle, his jaw is clenched and his stare is hard but when he feels you bump into him his eyes soften when he looks at you and takes you in. you're biting your lip trying not to sob and tears are filling your waterline. as you see him you can't stop the dam from breaking as the tears heavily stream down your face. as you push past him you hope to never see him again- any of them.

that doesn't happen though. denki has made it a point to wiggle himself into your life, inserting himself there. it happened that very night after you left the party, about half an hour after you arrived home and changed into comfy clothes he came knocking on you door. "kaminari? how... how do you know where i live? wait, what- hold up, what are you even doing here?"

why is he wet, has it been raining? he smiles genuinely at you, even though he's soaked to the bone, freezing from the rain and so very irate with his girlfriend just seeing you cheers him up. he's never seen you in a comfortable setting before, a setting where you're not dressing up from anyone, you look even cuter than normal...

"can i come in?" he asks you and you blink slowly and heavily a few times, processing the question. it relaxes you because the way he says it sounds like a sincere questions. sometimes when people ask a question you know you have to answer a certain way, you know there is a right way.

sometimes when someone asks "can i...?" you have to say yes because saying no isn't really an option, they're not really asking you. but when you heard denki say, "can i come in?" you relax because you know you could just say no and that would be okay, he would be okay with that. if you told him no he 'can't come in' he'd just leave and won't push you to say yes or try to make you feel guilty. sometimes questions like "can i come in?" or a "can we go here?" are almost rhetorical question.

he makes you feel safe.

you nod your head and step aside letting him through. "okay," you reply softly and a little hoarsely, slightly annoyed at yourself for not speaking more louder and assertively.

"how are you feeling?"

the tether that's keeping you from becoming frustrated feels like it starts fraying "how do you think i'm feeling?" beginning to get annoyed at him because why is he even here talking to you, shouldn't he still be at hinema's house with his girlfriend?

"yeah... that's a stupid question, sorry." denki rubs the back of his head with hand and steps a little bit closer to you. "let me make you feel better," he blurts out.

"huh?"

denki steps even closer to you and gently holds onto your hand, clasping it in his. "let me... let me make you feel better. let me apologise on my girlfriends behalf..." your eyes go wide starting to have an idea about what he means but not wanting to verbalise it and jump to conclusions, worrying to get the wrong idea. "let me... show you- show you how beautiful you are, how wonderful you are." he squeezes your hand momentarily and says quietly, almost begging, "please."

"what about your girlfriend?" you say girlfriend with disdain.

"what about her? she doesn't matter. let me show you how pretty you are love."

your heartbeat increases at the nickname and your face heats up. "i- i don't know kaminari."

"denki." he says gently but authoritatively.

"what?"

"please, please call me denki." he pleads, squeezing your hand again.

"okay, denki..." you test his name on your tongue and it sounds right, like you should always be saying it.

even now you're still not sure to what compelled you to say, "please show me denki." you never regretted your answer.

it starts slowly, gently, tenderly. denki cups your cheek in his palm and kisses you, placing his other hand on your hip keeping you close to him. the longer you kiss the more hungry it becomes and you're not really sure if it was you or him that deepened the kiss and pressed your bodies up against each other.

"can i love?" he gestures to your top that he's currently fiddling with the hem of, wanting to lift it up so he can touch you properly and get a good look at you.

you hum in affirmation and keep your lips attached to his, not wanting to separate. denki slivers your top up and puts his hand where it used to be, now on your exposed supple flesh, his cold hands stroking your skin delicately. as you feel his hands you shudder remembering now about how drenched he is. "you must be freezing denki." you finally move away from his lips and see his clothes covered in rain with rain drops dripping down his hair landing on his shoulders.

"it's okay. completely worth it." denki grins at you and you suddenly feel shy by the way he's looking at you. you definitely feel pretty by his gaze, it's electrifying and makes you feel bashful all at once.

"do- do you want a towel to dry yourself off with?" denki kisses your jaw and smiles, distracting you.

"don't worry about it love." his breathe against your neck making you shiver. you pout even though he can't see you and you still worry, not wanting him to get a cold. "you keep me warm."

"but-"

denki presses his lips against yours and wraps both his arms around your waist. you moan quietly and he lifts your top up over your head. "is this okay?"

"yes please," you respond, hoping not to sound too needy.

he smirks at your tone and takes off the rest of your clothes. "jesus, you look even more beautiful than i imagined," he says quietly to himself, you're not sure if you were suppose to hear it or if he even meant to say it out loud. denki runs his hands along the curves of your body.

"you imagined me?" you match his volume and he looks startled at your question, obviously surprised that you heard what he said, you come to the conclusion that he thought he was thinking but he actually said out loud

"who wouldn't? you're beautiful." denki kisses your shoulder and holds one of your breasts in his large hands, stroking your nipple as you bite your lip to stop any embarrassing noises spilling out. you're already feeling shy as it is after denki has said such nice things about you.

after realising what you were doing he takes your chin in his hand and tilts you to look at him so you're making eye contact. "look at me. you don't need to do that. not with me. i want to see you. i want to hear all the noises you make, i want you."

denki grazes his teeth along your neck and you gasp. "those are the noises i wanted." you press your lips together trying not to smile, denki grins at how adorable you look.

he moves to take off his shirt and you thought he looked good beforehand in a casual black button up shirt but god does he look even better with it off. you thought he'd be kind of skinny but he's actually lean and a little slim. you can see some defining muscle, his arms are just the same. a couple of moles on his forearms and faint freckles dust his shoulders and upper chest. you wonder if he has light freckles on his face too because you've never once seen them but maybe you haven't looked hard enough.

you know you're probably staring a tiny bit too much at his slender waist and yellow happy trail that matches the colour of his hair and he doesn't mind one bit, happy that you like what you see and fond of your attention.

"like what you see?" he chuckles. you go to hide your face behind your hand after being caught but denki catches your wrist. "what did i tell you? i want to see you sweetheart." you have the urge to bury your face against his chest, hiding away from his gaze but you resist the urge.

everything became a little hazy after that for the next ten minutes, denki has manoeuvred you into your bedroom onto your bed, hovering over you, and keeping you in between his two arms. you pull denki down by wrapping your arms around his neck so you can kiss him again. the kiss begins slow and sweet before denki runs his tongue against your bottom lip, silently asking for access into your mouth and you grant him it. your tongues intertwine and you can still taste that cheap beer he's been drinking that's still lingering even though you've already been kissing previously.

you could kiss denki all night but he has other plans as he starts touching your breasts again and moves his hand down your body to get you ready for his cock, surprised to find that you're already wet. "wet from just a little kissing? that's so cute." he kisses your cheek and whispers against your ear.

"denki," you whine, "don't tease me."

he has to take a deep breath after hearing you whine, not wanting to let you know how bad you affect him because if you keep making noises like that he'll come in his boxers before he gets inside you. "it's okay love." he grinds himself against your thigh, groaning at the contact, letting you feel how hard he is. "i'm just the same." he says deeply and you shiver at the knowledge that denki is just as turned on as you. he's turned on by you.

his dick is almost painful with being contained in his jeans so he rushes to take them off. precome stains his grey boxers turning the area black and he takes them off too, grinning at you. the one way you would describe denki's dick is pretty, just like him so it makes sense. he's a little longer than average, circumcised and pubes trimmed. you want him inside you. now.

"do you have a- you know?" denki asks, gesturing to your bedside cabinet. he regrets not carrying any condoms in his pocket or wallet but his girlfriend only likes having sex in ones of their bedrooms. she's not a fan of spontaneous sex.

"oh, um, maybe? in the bathroom. i wasn't really expecting this and i don't- don't do this a lot... at all really." you admit, while trying to think about where you keep condoms because you must have them somewhere but you keep coming up a blank. the entire time denki's thinking about how you never do this, it makes him feel special, special that you're letting him make you feel good.

you want him... all of him. "i um-i-i'm on the pill." denki's eyes snap up to look at you.

"holy shit are you serious right now?" he asks automatically and enthusiastically, his face lighting up.

you start regretting your suggestion and denki can tell by the look on your face, he thinks he probably spooked you. "we don't need to do anything like that if you don't want to love. i can eat you out for hours. i mean hell, that sounds like at absolute dream." you giggle after hearing that. "sorry i was a bit quick and excited there, i've just never had sex without any rubber on."

you're surprised after hearing that, thinking that he's the type to go without and you tell him just that. "i think that was why i was so excited, i've always wanted too. it's always been a dream of mine and i don't like using them but i've never brought it up with any of the girls i've been with."

"well.. is it okay that i brought it up?" you ask more confident seeing that denki is delighted with the idea.

"fuck yeah. i trust you like crazy. if it was going to be anyone i'd want it to be you." he tells you, grinning. he trusts you. if he had the opportunity with anyone he'd choose you? your heart flutters.

"i don't really like condoms either and i want you, all of you." you tell him shyly and denki's heart misses a beat after your confession.

next thing you know denki is pushing his cock into, inch by inch. even though denki has already prepped you and has been touching you there is still a slight stretch. both you and denki groan simultaneously. your velvet, warm, wet walls welcome him without any barrier.

what comes out of denki next is a mixture of moans, groans, swearing and praising with each thrust. "fucking hell, holy shit sweetheart. you're fucking beautiful, most beautiful girl in the world, so pretty." with each praise and compliment every slight doubt that lingers in the back of your mind disappears, your sole focus being on the man above you. "you feel so good, lovely." he holds your hands in his, enlacing your fingers, that seems far too intimate for a supposedly one night stand to make you feel better.

he catches on to how to please you best with every gasp, noise and shake, and only after a couple minutes he seems to know your body better than you do. with every thrust he's rubbing against your g-spot, drawing circles over your clit and taking your nipple in his mouth.

you came harder than you ever came that night, multiple times with your ears going fuzzy and eyes going blurry. denki doesn't let you know but he's in the same boat, his come spilling into you, the warmth making you shudder and arch your back, grabbing onto him tightly. he's never came as much as he did and he knows that it's all because of you.

you don't know how it happened but denki ended up staying the night and leaving in the early hours of the morning. this wasn't how your night was suppose to go but you don't regret it. he did what he said he would when he arrived on your doorstep, he did make you feel better and he did make sure you didn't spend the night upset and feeling insecure and alone. that night was so shitty, his girlfriend was so shitty yet he succeeded in making it a good night.

when he came to your door you thought there was a silent understanding, a one night stand and after this he'll go back to his girlfriend. for that one night he'll be making up for what his girlfriend said but it didn't turn out like that.

you expected to not see denki for months, that is if you ever see him again. you expected to go back to calling him by his last name and trying to forget what he looks like nude and how his stomach went taunt as he was about to climax but instead you saw him a week after when he knocked on your door, slamming his lips against yours and pushing you against your wall. at least once a week for months now you would see him, you know you should feel bad for his girlfriend, he is cheating on her with you, but you don't, not in the slightest.

after the first few times denki came by again you slipped in some questions afterwards, wanting to know if he was doing this with other girls. he isn't.

wanting to know if you're still the only person he's slept with without wearing a condom. yes you are and he has no intention of changing that.

you've never asked him any questions involving morality like if he feels guilty or if he loves his girlfriend. it doesn't involve you.

you're aware now your relationship has developed more than it once was, the closest label you have would be friends with benefits. some nights denki knocks on your door unannounced, like always, with a bag of popcorn and your favourite snacks ready to watch a new film that has just come out on netflix. he's probably the closest friend you have, you stay clear of his girlfriend though, she isn't even aware that you and denki are close now. hopefully the last time she's spoken about you or thought about you was at that dreadful party and hopefully it stays that way.

denki likes his girlfriend... he does... if he was quoting mean girls he'd say something along the lines of - there's good and bad to everybody. but his girlfriend is just more upfront about it.

that would be a lie though. there are some things he likes about his girlfriend and when they're alone together it can be really good but he then remembers about how awful her attitude is towards other people. towards you. sneaking around and cheating on her is honestly rather thrilling for him and he likes the idea of silently letting you get your own back.

sometimes he'll rationalise it in his own head while he's drunk. cheating on her is okay because he's always wanted to sleep with you. it's okay because ever since you first met, denki wished you were his girlfriend.

he could never end it with his current girlfriend, his parents always ask about her and it would cause a rift in their friend group. near the beginning of their relationship his girlfriend brought herself a dog but he prefers denki over her, opting to want his attention over hers. if they did break up he knows he'd never see that dog again, he's grown to love it. it's just as much of his than it is hers but he knows that that won't matter and he'll never see him again if they broke up. they work next to each other and they go to all the same places.

he could never break up with her, he'd never hear the end of it with his parents.

so for now he gets to have some joy from getting to see you and kiss you and lay his head on your lap while you watch television together. if he tries hard enough he can almost imagine you're his girlfriend instead.

one night denki's at yours, you're not doing any explicit but you're just enjoying your night together, that is until she spoils it. denki's ringtone going off disrupts hot fuzz and he takes the call not even bothering to pause the movie. you decide to turn it down though. "kamiiiii, where are?" god her voice is grating. once a voice that spewed such nasty things about you now just sounds annoying. "i came by yours and you're not here."

denki closes his eyes shut tight, it looks to you that he's annoyed too. "sorry, i'm out tonight." he lies and know what is about to happen next.

"don't you want to see me. c'mon home, we can spend the night together." she giggles into the phone. you knew it. you knew what would happen when he answered that call from her.

denki knows he does't really have a choice without explaining where he is so he agrees to come see her. "okay, i'll be there soon." you both stay silent for a moment not talking before he breaks the silence. "i'm sorry love, we didn't even get to finish the film. i swear we can finish it next time." he apologises.

he thought he saw disappointment on your face for a second but he knows that he's just seeing things, you wouldn't be disappointed for him to go, you're not like that, he knows to you that he's just someone to fuck. he knows that you're using him to get back at his girlfriend. he doesn't mind that one bit though, as long as you're in his life.

"you can watch the rest without me if you wanted to." he tells you getting up from the sofa.

you shake your head, "no, no, it's fine. we can watch it next time. bye kaminari."

'oh no she's annoyed at me, she called me kaminari. she hasn't called me that in months. maybe she wanted to have sex tonight and i've ruined her plans. i can't stay now though, i'm already leaving. i'll have to make it up to her.'

you don't know why you called him kaminari, you knew it was petty but that didn't stop you from saying it. sometimes you get so caught up with denki you forget that outside of your home he isn't yours and he never will be. you're just sleeping together, that's all, and you don't want anything more than that... you don't...

denki thought about you all night, you never left his mind. he hates that he left you but he felt like he had no option. if he was anyone else he would have enough sense to distance himself from you but when it comes to you his judgement gets cloudy and he'll do whatever he can to be in your life, even if that involves lying through his teeth to everyone about where he is.

two nights after denki left after the phone call he came to yours with a takeaway in his hand and a grin on his face. he doesn't actually say the word 'sorry,' he doesn't acknowledge that he left abruptly, he just grins and asks "hot fuzz?"

you match his grin and let him in. you thought maybe you would be a little annoyed with denki after seeing him in your doorway but you realised that you had no right to be annoyed. you're not his girlfriend.

one takeaway and half a film after you're playing with denki's hair and he hums in happiness and gratitude. "i could have you play with my hair all night but do you want to take this to the bedroom love? i'm still pretty hungry." he takes your hands away from his head so he can kiss your wrist and winks at you. you roll your eyes and call him an idiot. "just for you sweetheart." it just came out and both of you heard. denki splutters and tries to backtrack what he said but it's too late, his whole entire face is red and his eyes are wide and you're doing no better. you haven't fully processed the words yet but you're sure it was accidental, it's just denki being denki. you turn your head away from him, nervous and embarrassed. your cheeks feel like they're on fire and you don't think you have the courage to look at him in the eye. even though you've talked yourself into how it was denki just being denki you still can't look at him.

the implications that he's yours makes you incredibly happy but you don't even want to accept that, after all you just see him as a friend. he's a good fuck. you're absolutely in denial. at least he isn't. he knows he wants you to be his, fully, completely, body and mind.

you both end up trying to ignore what he said, haphazardly but relatively successful, pivoting back to denki's offer of going to the bedroom. "denks are we taking this to the bedroom or not?"

'god she's amazing.' he's so glad you aren't acting weird.

denki's got his head between your plush thighs, he's holding onto them keeping them open so you don't close them and stop him. licking a strip along your pussy, before flicking your clit a few times with his tongue and then lapping up your juices as he plays with your breast and moaning at your taste. "denki, don't do that, it's embarrassing."

he looks up from where he's laying to see you, "what? enjoy myself. don't complain or i won't let you come."

the threat of not being allowed an orgasm shuts you up, knowing that denki will absolutely deliver on that threat if he wants to. you know that he would eat you out for hours not letting your come once.

you loose track of time, your hips start rolling uncontrollably and you grab hold of his hair. "don't get greedy sweetheart, you'll come when i say you can." he holds down your thighs to stop you from moving and kisses your hip, sucking to form a mark on your soft skin. his mark.

for all his threats he does let you come. "you've been so behaved. so good sweetheart," he mumbles against your skin. you come again and again. he finally lets up and you watch him lick his lips and wink at you. you turn your head away from him and he chuckles. his erection is visible even with his jeans on and denki flops down on the bed next to you, drawing you closer so you're laying next to each other, his arm under you.

reaching down to his jeans you start stroking him through his clothes. "don't worry about that, not tonight. i just wanted to look after you, make you feel good." he places a chaste kiss on you forehead.

"you always make me feel good," you tell him honestly and his heart feels like it's beating out of his chest.

"then my work here is done." he replies and you giggle. he is completely and utterly in love with you.

he can't tell you, no matter how much he wants to. you don't feel the same way and he can't lose you.

how much longer will you stay in denial for?

will his girlfriend ever find out about you two? maybe that will be your tipping point. maybe her finding out will make you realise that you want denki more than a quick fuck or a friend. maybe her finding out will be what you need. you're in love with denki.

[belokhvostikova]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤: 𝐂𝐥𝐮𝐛 𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | Following Friday’s events, Eddie Munson was on a mission to apologize to you, though everything fell short when your life began to crumble in a matter of hours.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Swearing, yelling, crying, self-deprecating thoughts, violence, experienced anxiety and panic attack, mentions of childhood abuse and neglect, and brief mentions of blood, body shaming, and non consensual touching.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | For the sake of my sanity, I'm going to need all of you to ignore the blatantly unrealistic process of making a book in this story, lol. If there are any necessary warnings that were accidently left out, please feel free to let me know!

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 | One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐈. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐡

Whatever mantra of the Munson Doctrine Eddie had been feeding himself to believe about the highest of the social hierarchy embedded within Hawkins High was really starting to fall short, specifically when your pretty face started monopolizing every one of his thoughts imaginable. 

As much as he’d like to admit otherwise, Eddie Munson liked staring at your face, and it was really starting to piss him off just how much he really liked doing it. And the situation only became worse when he steadily watched your wonted bewitching smile fade into a disheartened look of dejection, because that following weekend after your impromptu photo shoot with Hellfire, became the worst week of your life.

And Eddie Munson watched it entirely unravel right in front of him.

It never really occurred to Eddie just how much he’d casually gawk at you prior to said photo shoot. I mean, you were the face of the school, of course, you were hard to miss when you practically lit up the halls with your smile. And that’s merely what Eddie had chalked it up to; your popularity involuntarily placed you at the forefront of his attention. It wasn’t the small strands of baby hairs that perfectly framed your face, whether you decided to keep your hair natural, or styled it for the fun of it; it wasn’t your enthralling eyes that seemed to almost squint close because your cheeks became so full of delight with your spellbinding laugh; and it definitely wasn’t your apologetic reassurance that everything was okay to the kid from the drama club who accidentally bumped into you, causing you to drop your books, and you gave Andy McAvoy a stern talking to when he tried to defend your honor with violence against the poor kid. 

No, it was none of that that caught Eddie Munson’s attention to you (he forced himself to believe).

But now, things are different.

He’d actually gotten a chance to talk to you—yes, that cafeteria instance was the first time Eddie Munson had ever actually spoken to you, and he berated you with dehumanizing comments—and he blew it with his rash decision to automate you into a box of prissy cheerleaders that had nothing better to do than gossip with their friends- ah yes, that box, that was formulated by sexist losers who used it to justified their mean actions against innocent teenage girls. Oh, fuck, Eddie cringed to himself at the sudden self-realization. 

He had to fix this. He didn’t even have to confess his feelings—which, he didn’t have *cough* *cough*—he just had to apologize for his mistakes. What he wanted to believe to be patronizing was actually sincere on your part, and you didn’t deserve any of his degrading tirade. And his conscience was letting it be known. Resuming the campaign had been a shit-show that Friday, when all he could focus on was your crying face. It became even worse when he realized that he’d never actually seen you drive—always painfully third-wheeling with Jason Carver and Chrissy Cunningham, or silently pleading to Patrick McKinney to control Andy McAvoy when he felt entitled to nonconsensually feel you up in his convertible when they drove you to school—meaning you were probably left crying alone at night waiting to be picked up, or worse, walking home. And you did it just for him. For his friends. To be included in some stupid fucking yearbook, because he made a big deal out of it in the first place.  

Oh, shit, he was an awful fucking person, Eddie thought.  

So, come Monday morning, he would apologize. He had all weekend to find the right words, rehearse his apology to perfection, and plan when to actually say it to you. 

But Eddie Munson never got to correctly apologize to you on Monday. 

Because aforementioned, Monday was the start of the worst week of your life, and he got scared and simply watched everything happen.

- 

“No running in the halls, young lady.” Mr. Long sternly reminded, as you zoomed past him.

“Sorry, sir.” You weren’t sorry. The second he turned the corner, you picked up the pace and ran to the newspaper room, frantically attempting to shove the slender key into the slot with shaky hands. 

Earlier on Saturday, the Yearbook Committee had worked to finish the final draft of the Hawkins High 1986 Yearbook, and with the team’s effort, you all concluded the first official copy that held the recognition of all staff and students intertwined with a school year’s worth of memorabilia, squished between the glossy green and orange cover that encapsulated Hawkins High. 

And now, you were about to destroy it. 

Sixty minutes. You had sixty minutes. You managed to wake up early that Monday morning, practically running to school, and situating yourself within the newspaper room—sweaty and exhausted—an hour early before the bell rang to commence the school day. In truth, you’d like to say you were a badass, and demolished the yearbook with no regrets, but reality had quite literally sucked, and you were panicking for a solid five minutes before you came to a consensus. 

It had to be destroyed- well, not destroyed, just unbinded. God, you were such a dramatic coward. 

See, that Saturday afternoon with the Yearbook Committee, you had done your part, you really did. You gathered photos, helped have them printed, assisted Nancy Wheeler with the placement of pages, and took over binding the book together when Fred Benson’s scrawny hands cramped into oblivion. You also may have—very discreetly—had Hellfire’s picture printed, created an entirely new page to fit them between the Glee and Math Club, and it was then you realized you didn’t even know half of their names. It had never occurred to you on Friday night that—with the exception of Eddie Munson, Lucas Sinclair, and Mike Wheeler—you never caught the names of the other four members, prompting you to lose precious time after having to locate their stupid names in the student registry for identification—they weren’t stupid, you were just really frustrated at that point.

And now, on this fine Monday morning, you persevered through blistering callouses, contracting muscles, and sore knuckles to unbind and bind back the yearbook with an additional page within the “Hawkins High’s Clubs” recognitional section.

Hellfire’s page.

And it was perfect. 

The pages were still intact with their crisp stiffness of that of a newly unopened book, and you cleaned off any smudges that impaired the quality of work within the creation. You stood back. You couldn’t help the soft giggle that left your lips at the mere sight of Hellfire sticking out like a sore thumb against the formality of the other photos—in true Hellfire fashion. But there it was. Their title, their photo, and their names that gave them the minimal ask to simply be acknowledged in a school that consistently disregarded their beings, and you were happy they finally got it. They deserved it. Even if Friday’s event left you crying alone in your bed feeling awful. It was worth it. Your thumb gently caressed the smooth page of their photo—Eddie’s photo—and reminisced on that night.

Had you actually done something terrible? Was Eddie right to call you out on your actions? You certainly knew you hadn’t caused this entire commotion out of pitiness, though you understood where he may have interpreted it as such. I mean, even though you never did anything, your friends made his life a living hell, villainizing his differences, casting him as a danger to society, affecting his life beyond just a superficial high school social life. It was true torment. 

You understood the facade which Eddie Munson had to put on to protect himself, but what you didn’t understand was the sudden shallowness that appeared when you thought you proved yourself to be more than just a ditzy cheerleader. Why were you even trying to prove yourself to some guy? Eddie Munson was an awful person. Right? He yelled at you, judged you, degraded you, and all for nothing- well, as far as you knew. So yeah, Eddie Munson was an awful person. You may have understood him, but he was still an asshole. You’d done your part, adding Hellfire to the yearbook, and that was that. That was all you needed to do. You no longer had to think about his stupid feelings, his stupid hair—which you totally didn’t want to run your hands through—his stupid brown eyes that made you shutter as they bore into yours, and his stupidly beautiful smile. You also kinda wondered how his hands might feel on your-

“What are you doing here?”

Jesus Christ, how long has Nancy Wheeler been standing there? You didn’t even hear the door open. 

“Uh, um, j-just looking at the, uh, yearbook?” You mumbled. You wished you had better control over your facial expressions, because right now, Nancy Wheeler was eyeing the fuck out of your worried guise. 

“You came to school early just to see the yearbook?” She questioned. 

“W-well, yeah, I mean, isn’t that why you’re here early? …Right?” You prayed.

Nancy blinked. “Yeah, I guess, just had to make sure everything was correct before Fred takes it to make copies.”

“Oh, Fred’s here?” You piqued with interest. 

Fred Benson didn’t actually pique your interest all too much—though, it was quite fascinating seeing how fast his slender fingers would cramp after just a couple minutes of working���but he did give the perfect escape from Nancy Wheeler’s captious glare. 

“Uh, yeah, he’s out front waiting for the book-”

“I’ll hand it to him!” You interjected, watching her face scrunch with confusion. You could only awkwardly laugh, “You know me and Fred,” you zoomed right past her, “just always so, uh… tight.” And you left without further explanation. 

Shoving Mr. Long’s word of chastisement right up his ass, you ran down the empty hall, yearbook held tightly in your tired hands, as you rejected any of Nancy’s calls for you to come back. Reaching the double glass doors, you spotted Fred mindlessly tweaking with his camera in the front seat of his car.

“Fred!” You could visibly make out the bewildered “huh” that fell from his gaping mouth from your sudden appearance. “Fred, here take this and go!” You shoved the yearbook past the small crack of his window. 

“W-wait, didn’t Nancy want to che-”

“No, she sent me to give this to you!” You urged. “And she said go now, or else the copies won’t be done in time!” My god, the entirety of this situation had you lying more than you ever had in your life. 

“But the distributors don’t close until six-”

“Fred, I don’t care!” You whined. “Do you really want to make Nancy upset?!” If your calculations were correct, Nancy Wheeler’s flats were currently speed walking—she was one to follow the rules—past Mrs. Durberry’s science classroom, meaning you had ten more seconds until she appeared. 

“Well, n-no-”

“Then drive! Now, please!” He scrambled to turn his car on, and luckily, the old piece of junk managed to roar alive with a heavy blow of carbon dioxide, and you heaved watching Fred Benson skirt past the incoming wave of students on bikes and cars, leaving tire tracks on the cracked pavements. When he came back, you’d be sure to apologize for demanding him so aggressively.

Nancy Wheeler screamed your name. 

Turning around, she came pummeling towards you with a might of pure irritation. “What the hell was that?! I didn’t even get to check the book!”

You huffed with exhaustion. It was only 8:18 a.m and it had already been a long day. “Nance, come on, I’ve been on the Yearbook Committee for the last three years, don’t you trust me by now?” Admittedly, guilting Nancy probably wasn’t the best option, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

“I don’t care how long you’ve been in the committee, I have the authority to make final calls, not you!” Gee, you really had an act for getting people to yell in your face. Were you actually the problem?

“Look, I understand, but I promise everything was perfect with the yearbook. I mean, come on, you saw the finished product on Saturday when we completed it.” You reasoned. 

Nancy took a deep breath to regulate herself. “This is your only strike.” She pointed a finger at you like a child. “You pull something like this again, and you're off the committee. Understand?”

You swallowed thickly. The trouble you went through just for Eddie Munson- his friends. Just for his friends. “Yes, I understand.” You submitted quietly. “But I promise, the book was fine, everything is going to be perfectly okay.”

Everything was not perfectly okay.

Because unlike your little white lie of being “tight” with Fred Benson, he actually was with Nancy Wheeler, and, boy, did he rat you out when he paged through the printed copies of the yearbook and found the seven believed satanic cultists mischievously smiling right back at him, tainting the committee’s precious work. 

-

It was in the midst of your A.P U.S History class when the staticy call of your name over the intercom interrupted Mr. Whitney’s lecture of the Gulf of Tonkin Resolution, and prompted you to the principal’s office at 10:57 a.m. Now, it wasn’t an unusual occurrence for Principal Higgins to often call you down as you were a valued student representative of Hawkins High, though you quickly knew your visitation had nothing in relation to an honor medal or scholarship award. No, it became quite evident that such subject matter was beyond any congratulations to you, because upon entering, you were faced with a choleric Nancy Wheeler, displeased Principal Higgins, and timid Fred Benson. You were fucking screwed, I mean, Principal Higgins quite literally had a yearbook in his hand. Crazy part of it all is that a good third of your being actually believed you may have gotten away with it, but they managed to find out in a matter of two fucking hours. Who were you kidding?

There was only so much nonchalant-ness you could mask, though your previous revelation of being unable to control your facial expressions was really biting you in the ass, and your insistent cracking under pressure was palpable. 

Your wide eyes flashed between everyone as they stared you down. You didn’t speak. You couldn’t even manage to speak. And they didn’t speak. Why wasn’t anyone speaking?

“Aw, you miss me already, Higgy-”

Everyone’s attention snapped at Eddie’s sneering voice as he strutted his grand entrance, though he was quick to flinch back in surprise when he saw everyone looking at him. And you, shit you were here! You were here looking at him. He’d been searching for you all morning just to apologize, and now you were here… with everyone… why was everyone here?

“Now that I have everyone situated,” Principal Higgins cleared his throat, “I’d like to clear up a matter that has been brought to my attention. I’m sure as you all are well aware of, an unauthorized change has been made to our yearbook and I’m looking to get to the bottom of it.” Higgins turned to you, “Ms. Y/L/N,” he spoke with such care, “this is a safe place for honesty. Did Mr. Munson subject you into making these changes?” With a dramatic slam to his desk, the yearbook was turned open to showcase Hellfire’s designated spot on the page.

“What?!” Both you and Eddie questioned in unison. 

“I didn’t “subject” her to shit!” He was quick to rightfully defend. 

“Language!” Principal Higgins was even quicker to yell back. 

The atmosphere was taut, and it felt like their judgmental stares were swallowing you into an endless blackhole of utter disappointment and failure. You couldn’t even muster up the courage to meet their gaze, simply staring at the old rug beneath your sneakers, wishing it’d come alive and consume you already. 

“Ms. Y/L/N, is that true?” Principal Higgins lectured you.

A part of Eddie actually wished you would have lied and accused him of being the aggressor while you were the helpless victim, because that was the usual reality of Eddie Munson: to be denigrated. It would have justified his previous beratement against you from Friday, it would have supported his initial beliefs about you, it would have cleared him of being an asshole, and most of all, it would have changed the way he viewed you, from a genuinely beautiful person inside and out that took a sincere interest in bringing simple recognition to him and his friends to a cold-hearted superficial bitch that chalked up this elaborate plan as a vendetta with your jock friends.

But Eddie Munson knew you weren’t like that.

Which only made it hurt worse when he watched you pain through the sting of your manicured nails stabbing into your palms and your teeth sinking into your tender lip.

“Y-yes, that’s, uh, true, sir.” Your voice was so delicate, Eddie was ready to jump in and just take the blame. “He didn’t make me do anything, it was, uh, all me. I lied, and made him and his friends take the photo. And, well, I, uh, added the page and told Fred to print it.”

You shuddered at the sudden slap of the book, as Principal Higgins closed it with much despondency against you. “And is there valid reasoning as to why?!” Principal Higgins wasn’t one to be known for his placidness and he was quick to make that apparent. “You are the best student at this establishment, you should not be falling under influence of a hooligan like Mr. Munson! How have you fallen so naive all of a sudden?!”

You were really tugging on Eddie’s heart the way your eyes grew round with panic, completely helpless to the grown man scolding you, just as he did last Friday. And while he may have caused it the initial time, he’d be damned to watch it happen to you again.

“Hey, look, you can insult me all you want, but you don’t have to yell at her like she made some dire mistake!” Eddie lambasted Principal Higgins, far more harsh than any regular tone Eddie used when he was regularly being reprimanded. 

Higgins could only scoff in disbelief. “Vandalizing school property isn’t a mistake to you, Mr. Munson?! Well, given your grotesque track record of uncivilized activities, it seems as though I’ve answered my own question!” He sneered back with intended offense.

“Please, ‘vandalizing school property?!’” Eddie mocked. “She fucking put our picture in the yearbook, and for good reason, too. You’re the one at fault here, excluding students from recognition!”

The thudding sound of your heartbeat was completely muting you from the onslaught of shouts that was suffocating you in the tight room. While Nancy Wheeler was beginning to contemplate if telling Principal Higgins was too far, Fred Benson was merely watching with joy that none of the blame was being casted on him, and you, well, your body was racking with stiffness, as it suddenly felt like your airway was tightening every breath out of you. Your hands began shaking by your side, unable to control the instantaneous wave of trepidation, as everything was beginning to blur around you. 

And no one was noticing. 

“I have rightful reasons to exclude your gang of misfits from my yearbook!” Principal Higgins walked from his desk, standing against Eddie with pure spite in his eyes. “You and your posse of cons and aberrations have done nothing but taint the reputation of our school and town, running around like imbeciles who have nothing better to do than waste their lives away! And I will not stand to have you be associated with the work I’ve done to correct this school from delinquents like yourself!”

Chest heaving and nostrils flared, the Eddie Munson from the cafeteria instance was back, though angrier, and he was two seconds from actually gaining an assault charge from hitting Principal Higgins square in the face. But the older man was quick to turn, and eject his dissonant castigate towards you. 

“And you, missy!” Your eyes were blinking posthaste with fret to control the swell of tears that were burning your eyes, at the clashing outburst being directed against you. “How did you even gain the facilities to take such picture?!” 

Your mouth was dry with consternation, unable to formulate words, and simply quivering your mouth open.

And unlucky for you, Fred Benson spoke for you.

“After our yearbook meeting on Friday,” heads snapped at his gravelly voice, “she said she was going to stay after to work, and that she would lock up herself. She must have taken the key, and stolen a camera.”

Higgins scoffed with great disgust as he judged you, before turning to Nancy. “Ms. Wheeler, as president of the Yearbook Committee, had you permitted her to do so?” 

Nancy looked at you with guilt. She hadn’t anticipated the situation to blow up this much, though she spoke honestly to the authoritative eyes of Higgins. “Uh, no, I didn’t.” She meekly answered. 

“And Mr. Munson,” Eddie rolled his eyes, trying to control his frustrations before doing something he wouldn’t be able to take back. “When did Ms. Y/L/N enforce these photos?”

“Why the hell does that even matter?” Eddie gritted with a clenched jaw of tension.

“Mr. Munson, you choose not to answer me, and I will not hesitate to place you as an accomplice, and you certainly cannot afford another detention or suspension if you’re planning on finally ending this school year as a graduate.” In a perfect world, Eddie Munson would have lied for you and lessened whatever punishment you were about to receive, but Hawkins, Indiana was far from perfect, the threat made him budge under the pressure of his potential future and your distraught eyes.

“It was, uh, after her cheer practice. After school.” He sheepishly murmured with regret.

“Ah,” Principal Higgins turned to your shaking stature. “So, not only did you make unauthorized changes to the school yearbook, but you stole school property, used our equipment prohibitively outside of school hours, and actively unsubordinated my authority. I have to say, I am awfully disappointed in the person you have become, Ms. Y/L/N, and I am ashamed to have valued you so highly when you simply choose to go down the path of delinquency.” Everything about Principal Higgins words were humiliating and slammed you into a vicious cycle of believing the worst about yourself. “Finish the rest of your day,” he sighed, “but you’ll be suspended for the rest of the week for your actions.” Your heart sank at his news, and Eddie stood dumbfounded that he contributed to it. 

Your visions grew blurry under the swell of tears, and your breath was becoming sporadic with panic, and everyone just kept fucking staring at you. “N-no, sir, p-please!” You choked, “I-I have scholarships, a-and acceptances that I-I’m still waiting to hear back from, this could ruin that for me, p-please, sir!”

While your pleads were being disregarded, everyone stood stun watching your fate unfold in front of you. Eddie Munson didn’t know what to do. Nobody did. On top of being berated by him from Friday, you were now facing the worst possible consequence for something so trivial, and he watched it happen. Granted, there was quite literally nothing Eddie could do to fix the situation, but seeing you stand there, panicked about your future and trying to conceal your incoming sobs through the ache of heart palpitations, it was fucking excruciating for him to witness. 

“You should have thought about that before you made your choices. Everything is on you.” His words were ringing in your ear like a loop confirming everything you’ve ever hated about yourself. “I’ll be sure to let your father know of the news, and as for your spot on the committee, it is up to Ms. Wheeler to determine where you stand. Now go, everyone back to class.”

Fred Benson was first to leave, giddy to have been cleared from any trouble. Eddie Munson should have left, but he couldn’t stand to leave, simply watching you turn to Nancy Wheeler in a flash. Your round eyes were pleading to her to let you stay, but her previous words of “This is your only strike,” was tormenting you. She sighed, “I’m sorry,” and the shake of her head answered everything before she could verbalize it. 

You were off. 

You stormed out of the room, bumping shoulders with Eddie, though with no malice intent, just simply needing to get out. The second you reached the clearing of the empty hall, your tears were drowning your cheeks, your sobs so unbearably hard your breathing staggered for release. Suddenly, your little cashmere sweater felt like it was sticking to your skin, giving you hot flashes that brought dizziness to your pounding head. The blood battering your ears cleared out any noise, including Eddie’s calls of your name. He reached out to hold your arm, causing you to severely flinch in hysteria, and he appeared devastatingly concerned for your state of being.

“Sorry! Ar-are you okay?” He winced at the loud sob you choked out, as he felt stupid for even asking you that question. “Look, everything, uh, everything’s gonna be fine.” He rushed to reassure. In truth, Eddie Munson was completely talking out of his ass, he didn’t know if everything was going to be fine, your panicking was just causing him to panic, and all he wanted was for you to be okay. “J-just, uh, breathe for me.” He offered. 

“I-I c-can’t! I’m scared, Eddie, help me!” You pleaded with frightened eyes. 

Your beg hit too close to home. Suddenly, Eddie was a little boy curled up in the corner of his trashed living room, as he watched his parents abuse one another with words and fists. He pleaded the same words to his parents, who merely ignored his shaking little body. Such horrific events disfigured Eddie Munson’s belief of healing. No one cared for his emotions, no one cared for his feelings, and no one cared to make sure he was okay. So, yes, Eddie Munson yelled at you Friday night because he was petrified. Petrified to be hurt, just as everyone else had done, because to Eddie Munson, that was his fate. To be hurt and to be forgotten. Maybe that’s why he cared so much about being excluded from the school yearbook. While anyone would have rightfully been upset, being excluded cemented the notion that Eddie Munson was disposable. His father spoke it, the townspeople spoke, his teachers spoke, and his peers spoke it. But you didn’t, and that fucking scared him. It’s why he yelled, it’s why he panicked, and it’s why he’d try anything to help you right now.

“I-I know, sweetheart, just listen to me, please.” He quietly spoke. “I’m not gonna touch you or anything, I just really need you to listen to me.”

You fervently nodded your head, and he sighed with relief, because though minor, it was progress, and progress was incredible.

“I, uh, I want you to focus on my voice, okay?” His wide eyes connected with your red ones. “I wouldn’t lie to you, and I mean it when I say everything will be okay. I-I’ll make sure of it.” 

Could he physically do that? No. But would he try his damn hardest, putting his being through anything to make it happen? Yes. For you.

“Okay, I want you to-”

“What are you doing to her?!”

Eddie’s eyes screwed shut with disappointment. 

Jessica fucking Lewis.

“Get away from her!” She charged past him to get to your hysterical figure. “Did you do something?!”

“No, no, I’m trying to fucking help her.” Eddie implored. “Stop yelling, she’s having a fucking panic attack.” He gritted through his teeth.

“Don’t fucking come near her ever again, you freak!” Eddie watched as you tried to get your words out, but your shrinking throat made it impossible to get your voice out, and he recoiled, watching the fear in your eyes as Jessica held a tight grip in your arms. 

But before he could stop her, Jessica was dragging you into the girls bathroom, and he stood frozen doing everything in his power to not rip out his hair in frustration. 

-

Aside from her fault-finding comments against Eddie, Jessica Lewis had actually been a fairly good friend to you through the years of cheer, connecting with the girls through the pact of lifelong sisterhood, as she insisted. Though such pact also came with unwarranted advice when she felt one of you was “falling out of line” with a pristine, perfect image. That being said, when she found you panicking at the hands of Eddie Munson, she was actually concerned, impetuous, yes, but concerned, nonetheless. She’d sat with you, decisively skipping the rest of Mrs. Otis’ home economics class, to console you, bitching out any innocent girl to leave as they attempted to alleviate themselves, while you sat heaving with the back of your thighs sticking to cold tiles of the bathroom. When you did finally manage to catch your breath and calm your heart rate to a healthy status, Jessica had petted your hair with care, constantly asking what was wrong and what Eddie had done. Through your tremored voice, you hoarsely clarified that “He didn’t do anything,” and “He was just trying to help.” That revelation had actually baffled Jessica Lewis, honestly, some part of her believing you to be lying, but she gave it a rest when you assiduously shook your head in response to her asking what was actually wrong. By then, the bell had rung to signal the start of third period.

And it was during said third period when your situation only worsened completely unbeknownst to you.

While you were in the middle of trying to focus on your quiz—which proved damn near impossible after today’s events—Fred Benson was seemingly trying to get back at you for nearly inducing him into a heart attack after your actions almost cost him his spot on the Newspaper and Yearbook Committee (In reality, Nancy Wheeler had only yelled at him for not previously checking the books).

See, once Fred had informed the rest of the Yearbook Committee of what you had done and how you were being punished, the news had spread like wildfire; nerds, geeks, punks, jocks, everyone knew one version or another. “Perfect Cheerleader Falls Under Satanic Cultist’s Influence and Vandalizes School Facilities,'' small town high school students sure had a talent to dramatize any given situation. You’d only taken a picture, that’s all it was, but the students of Hawkins High had conspired together to formulate you into a freak slut who allegedly got fucked by the Eddie Munson after cheer practice in exchange for putting his club in the yearbook.

As the students of your class hurtled to mitigate the dreaded boredom of the school day with the clashing laughter and stale food of lunch, you sighed in your seat, head pounded and anxiety still churning in your mind and stomach, slowly packing up your belongings before handing over the quiz—quite literally the worst you’ve ever performed on one. Lunch seemed like the worst possible thing to conquer, right now. Despite the horrid grumbling of your stomach, you felt no need to satiate that hunger, as your appetite was long gone for the afternoon. In addition, you’d known Jessica Lewis long enough to know that she had informed all your friends of your panic attack, and if you chose to call her out on it, you knew you would only be met with a “I’m only trying to help,” as if you needed an intervention. She’d done it to Paige Semore when the girl healthy gained a couple pounds over the summer and got ridiculed by Jess.

But when you entered the cafeteria, you quickly wished you were subjected to Jessica Lewis’ harmful “advice”, rather than the reality you got.  

The sound of the heavy double doors announced your arrival, and suddenly all eyes were on you. No, like quite literally, all eyes were on you. No greeting smiles from acquaintances, no shying-away looks from crushing students, no bright wave hello from Chrissy Cunningham from across the cafeteria, in fact, she was heavily avoiding you, seemingly finding the table more interesting as Jason Carver glared at you. Everyone was staring at you as if, without notice, you had become the town pariah. Because you had. Your perturbation had bombarded you like a missile hit, as quiet whispers flooded your senses. Peering around you caught his eyeline. Eddie. His brows had severely been furrowed with much worry, because he knew. He knew how quickly it went around, and he knew just how bad the news got twisted. Now, he was no stranger to the onslaught of destructive rumors, but you weren’t, and with the day you had, his chest was pounding with dread for you.

Chalking it up to merely being in your head, you swallowed the lump in your throat, and with quick steps, you sped to your usual lunch table. But everyone kept staring- your friends were staring. “Can someone tell me what the hell is going on?” You whispered, as they genuinely looked at you with disgust. 

“Why don’t you tell us?” Jason scowled. “Seems like you’re the one who caused all of this, you desperate slut.”

Your mouth dropped incredulously. “What did you just call me?”

“You fucking heard me!” Jason stood from his chair, rejecting Chrissy’s quiet ask to not cause a scene. “It’s exactly what you are.” He laughed.

Eddie Munson’s residual anger was fueling. Hard. He stood from his chair all the way across the room, metal legs scraping the floor with a deafening screech. But his presence only caught the worst attention. “Oh, would you look at that? Your little freak coming to help you?”

Eddie faltered at your watery eyes, begging for everything to just stop. If he spoke, nothing would help you. “What are you talking about?” Your voice stung with pleads to just understand what was happening to you.

“Stop acting like you don’t fucking know!” Andy’s booming voice startled you. “You wanna choose some gross freak to fuck, then fine by us, go right ahead, but don’t think that you’ll be able to with us!” Andy McAvoy was taking it far more personal. He liked you. That was obvious. But hearing the rumors simply led him to believe you chose Eddie Munson over him.

“What?” Your voice cracked in distress. 

Eddie had had enough. 

“She didn’t fucking do anything!” He marched his way over. All the boys of the basketball team stood in preparation for a fight that Eddie Munson was known to love to finish. Finish, not start. “Your bland lives got that fucking boring you all have to go around making shit up to make things interesting?! She didn’t do anything!”

“Aw, defending your precious little fuck toy, isn’t that cu-”

Chrissy Cunningham's shrilling scream startled the entire cafeteria as Jason Carver’s blood stained her powdery skin. You flinched at the bone-crunching punch that busted Jason’s pretty face, and everything felt heavy in your chest. Your hands were beginning to shake beyond your control, as everything was horrifyingly disfiguring in front of you. It was happening again. Before your mind was about to shut off from the assault of today’s events, your instinct had elicited all rash decisions, and you had to leave. All you could comprehend was the diffusing sounds of students instigating the fight before everything fell silent and you trudged down the hall to escape.

Staff were quick to call Eddie’s name before another detrimental hit was casted upon Jason. It was only then, Eddie’s judgment was left unclouded, and he noticed you were gone. “Did she leave?” He hadn’t necessarily asked anyone in particular, moreso questioning himself, but Chrissy Cunningham had ardently answered him with a swift nod of her head and bulging eyes of fear. 

Eddie broke through the doors with force, catching you near the end of the hall. “Y/N!” You didn’t turn, though. Every repeated call of your name fell with no response, and he chased you down, following you into the zephyr of the afternoon weather outside. “Y/N, c’mon, wait!” He’d grabbed your arm.

“What?!”

Eddie staggered at your biting tone. Not once, in the four years he’d known of you—freshman to senior year—had he ever heard your voice so malicious, yet drowning in urgence to make everything stop. Your inconsolable state devastating him helplessly. 

“I-I’m sorry.” He sighed so softly.

“‘Sorry?’” You affronted. “Now you’re sorry?! After everything that’s happened! Why, is it out of fucking pity?!” Internally, Eddie was begging you to stop, because if you kept yelling at him like this, his defense mechanism was going to lash out, especially when he was already angry from everything that’s just happened. “I don’t want some stupid apology, not when every time you appear, my life gets worse! I just want you away!” You cried.

Eddie scoffed in disbelief. Were you actually blaming him for all this? No, you weren’t. But after the day you just had, you were not looking to be comforted by someone who partially hurt you. But Eddie Munson couldn’t understand. His judgment had a habit of being clouded; his cynicism about anything good happening to him had protected him from a lifetime of hurt, and now, unfortunately, your rightfully pent up polemic about him was believing his suspicions to be true. 

“This isn’t my fucking fault, you’re the one who wanted to take our picture in the first place!” He shouted, shielding his vulnerability. 

“Because you made a big deal out of it!” You screamed with frustration. “You yelled at me first, you said mean things to me first- why- why were you so mean to me?!” You blubbered through drowning tears.

“Because- be- ugh,” Eddie pained with vexation. “You fucking terrify me, okay?! You terrify the living shit out of me!” Guarding his tearing eyes from your shattered being, he groaned realizing you weren’t going to understand unless he opened up, but he couldn’t bear to, and maybe that was the best solution to move on, run away. “It’s just fucking hard when, you know, you look like that and you’re fucking you, and I’m just me, and you have a great life-”

“‘Great life?!’” You derided through tears. “You know nothing about my life!” You shoved him. “You know nothing about me!” You shoved him again. Eddie was quick to retrain your wrist in a tight grip, preventing you from touching him again, no matter how hard you tried. “Stop acting like you know everything about me when you know absolutely nothing! I’m not going to stand here, and let you say mean things to me, when you know nothing, do you understand?! I have never done anything to you, and I never will, because unlike you, I’m not some sulking asshole who can’t handle their fucking emotions, and uses their sorry life to lash out at people because they’re too pathetic to deal with their own problems!”

And maybe your rash psycho analysis of Eddie Munson was too much, or not harsh enough, but either way, your critical comments derailed him off the edge of sanity. He aggressively dropped your wrist, and got into your face with a full might of fury. “You are such a miserable bitch!” He shouted, invading your space with intent, causing you to wince and step away from him, but he wasn’t relenting. “For once, you got a fucking taste of what your bullshit friends have been doing to me, and now you can’t fucking handle it?! God, just love playing the fucking victim, don’t you?! Maybe they are right, maybe you are just some fucking desperate slut craving fucking attention?! Is that why you did all this shit in the first place?!”

The way your face flashed with sudden dejection had him biting his tongue. Oh, fuck. He regretted it. He fucking immediately regretted it. 

Eddie began furiously shaking his head in denial to what he just uttered, he couldn’t believe it. “No,” he heaved out. “No, I-I didn’t mean it, I’m s-sorry.” He could only muster a whisper.

You didn’t even have the energy to fight back, merely accepting his words as truth with a silent sob that burned your being. “Yeah,” you shakily sighed with a sniffle of sobs. “I’m sorry, too, Eddie. I would have loved being your friend, and now I just want nothing to do with you.” His heart dropped at your calmness. When he first spoke those words to you, demanding you to stay away from him and his friends, he knew a deep part of him didn’t mean it. Why would he, you were fucking perfect? But you, the stillness and tranquility of your words cemented them to be the final verdict. You were done. “So please,” you wiped your drenched face from tears, “just leave me alone and stay away from me.”

No malice, no anger, no fury.

Just pure defeat.

𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 | This is my first time making a tag list, and I got overwhelmed—in a good way—that I simply tagged anyone who commented. If you were not looking to be tagged, I’m so sincerely sorry, and please let me know to respect your wishes and remove you!

(Big, fat kisses to all of you) @televisionboy @batkin028 @lostdreamingwallflower @cevais @myfavoritesareproblematic @btbabyy @married-to-the-music01 @super-nova-03 @deathnote6666 @cherrytc @sleepy-bunnie @eggo-segual @bambi-horror @aheadfullofsteverogers @sademoloser @averagestudent03 @freakymunson @princess-eddie @imagine-a-world-blog1 @negativity4you

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(I’m so sorry, some blogs are not popping up when I try to tag y’all, if it’s an issue on my part, I’ll try my best to fix it as soon as possible)

[iamnmbr3]

I find your analysis' really fun and I love how JKR, unintentionally created a narrative where drarry somehow has more chemistry than ginny who's literally forgotten in the 3rd, 4th books???? Like mam, if you want to build a romance then make them have actual conversations? I, myself like ginny and like the concept of hinny but the way JKR sucked at writing them infuriated me.

But anyhow, I also love drarry, though as much as I like and agree with your assessment; there is something I'll have to disagree with, and that is I don't harry found draco attractive. Because the thing with Harry is; no matter who that person is, my guy is really honest with how he views that person. Each time as he saw Riddle grow, my guy was like; hot damn. Also Cedric. Sirius. Bro literally calls regulus "not as hot as Sirius" so we are know Harry has never once found draco attractive. As for the gleaming eyes, pointy chin; well I also like giving my characters good description so people would understand what to imagine; I'm not making everyone simp on about everyone. promise!!!!!!

( I just like them falling in love after the war, and Idrc if they found each other good looking or not, I just don't like how people just take basic description of a character and says oh he describes how he looks, he must like him!!!!! No guys, he is just saying bro has a pointy chin and his eyes glows because he probably is gonna do something!!!!!)

I just wanted to get this out and I am not really active on Tumblr, and don't like posting. This is just me wanting to discuss this one hc😞 but I hope u have a good day and I adore ur hcs and analysis.❤️

Thank you! And yeah I feel like JKR really did Ginny dirty with the way hinny happened. I like book 5 Ginny so much more than book 6 and 7 Ginny. She deserved so much better than to be reduced to a love interest who is "Harry's perfect girl" to use JKR's phrase rather than someone who got to be her own fully realized character with a distinct personality and interests (as she was in book 5 before JKR overdid it trying to make her the ideal Love Interest TM). I think it would've been cool if she ended up with Neville since they bonded during their year at Hogwarts in book 7 and fought side by side and mutually respected each other as equals.

It just says it all that after the Battle of Hogwarts Harry doesn't have a single interaction with her. He immediately wants to spend time with Ron and Hermione because he feels a deep bond with them but just vaguely thinks that there will be time to talk with Ginny later. He isn't even sitting by her at the table because it's Luna who is next to him and offers to create a distraction so he can leave.

As for Harry's descriptions of Draco, I'm going to push back on that although of course everyone is perfectly entitled to their own interpretations. The thing is, Harry is extremely judgmental about people's looks and insults the appearances of all the other Slytherins. A lot. But he NEVER does that with Draco. Ron does. Ron insults Draco's looks all the time. But Harry never goes along with it or agrees and his internal monologue and descriptions of Draco are notably lacking the insults he directs at almost every other member of Draco's House as well as other people he dislikes.

But that's not because he isn't looking. Because he is. A LOT. He doesn't just describe Draco's looks. He dwells on them. Repeatedly. We know SO much about how Draco looks because Harry CONSTANTLY notices and mentions it in his internal monologue. Draco's grey eyes are mentioned repeatedly in every book. As is his sleek blond hair. Harry doesn't even mention Ron's eye color once till book 7, but we get multiple descriptions of Draco's eyes down to the exact shade - specifically pale grey. And same for his hair - along with observations about how it gleams in the sunlight. Even when Harry's in danger he takes a second to check out how Draco's looking. And that is at odds with how he describes other characters.

He never calls Ginny pretty or beautiful either but he does seem to have at least some level of physical attraction to her and often describes her hair...and that's pretty much it. Yeah I'm pretty sure that relationship fizzles once the peace happens. (I've read very compelling metas on Harry being gay and I think there's a lot there though personally I do still read him as bi but with a strong preference for men).

Draco is someone that Harry would not get together with till after the war. And I don't think he wants to acknowledge, even to himself, that he is attracted to him. But he sure spends a lot of time repeatedly noticing and describing and thinking about Draco's appearance in a way he doesn't with other characters. Something is making him look. And I think that something is attraction.

Now obviously this was completely not JKR's intent. The problem is that she wrote the story from Harry's POV not from the POV of an omniscient third person narrator. So while she didn't mean to make Harry constantly notice all the cute guys and obsess over Draco's looks for 7 books that is accidentally what she did.

[gingiesworld]

New Sheriff in Town

Requested by @louxbloom

Wanda Maximoff x GN! Reader/ Past Wanda Maximoff x Vision

Warnings: Angst. Fluff.

18+ MINORS DNI

Wanda and Vision were high school sweethearts, everything seemed perfect until she fell pregnant before graduating. Vision proposed to her as soon as he found out which Wanda had said yes.

It all seemed fairytale like as the years went on, Wanda being the stay at home mom as Vision went to work with his uncle at Stark Industries to provide for his family. As much as Wanda loved being a mom to her sons, she hated being home alone. Living the same day, same routine over and over again.

As the years went on, Vision had started to treat Wanda as a maid and not his wife, the twins soon caught on and started to treat her the same as their father did. As much as it broke Wanda's heart, she couldn't leave. Even though her friend's Natasha and Agatha would tell her otherwise. She had an obligation to be there for her family. That is what she was taught the perfect wife was.

That was until Vision had handed her divorce papers as he packed his things. Leaving her to raise two teen boys as he moved in with the 20 year old twinkie in the city. The twins had blamed Wanda for him leaving and never really cut her any slack. Wanda would also find herself crying herself to sleep every night. Wondering at what point her life had took a turn.

But with two 15 year old boys, running amuck throughout Westview. Especially being just as entitled as their father, always causing noise and destruction wherever they go. Only to be yelled at by Wanda before the two would make her cry.

A new resident had moved in ane joined the local Sheriff's department. Well they were the new Sheriff. When they saw the two yelling at Wanda, blaming her for their father not wanting anything to do with them.

"Hey!" Their voice boomed, causing the three to look in their direction. "I suggest you boys show your mother some respect."

"What are you going to do about it?" Tommy sneered as the twins crossed their arms across their chests.

"If I catch you boys doing anything out of line, I can have you arrested." They told them sternly.

"What? You gonna call the police?" Billy teased as Tommy laughed. They sighed as they got their badge out.

"I am the new Sheriff so I suggest you start to respect your mom." They told the two sternly. "Also, if I catch either of you vandalising any property, that includes your mom's house, I will put you in handcuffs. Do you understand me?" The two just nodded before walking inside as Wanda approached Y/N.

"Thank you. I'm Wanda." She introduced herself.

"Y/N." They shook her hand. "Well it was nice to meet you but I have to get to the station." Wanda waved nervously as she watched them walk away.

As the time went on, Y/N had found Tommy drinking in the park. So they approached him with a soft smile on their face.

"Hey, you're Wanda's son right?" They questioned as Tommy just scoffed before having another big sip. "You know you can talk to me."

"About what?!" Tommy spat. "How my dad left us and we've blamed mom all the time for it. Especially seeing him with his new wife and kid."

"Listen, I understand how hard it can be to have a parent give up on you." They told him. "But your mom is still here. She is still looking after you and your brother. You just need to give her a chance. It isn't her fault your dad quit on you guys. That's all on him so please just cut her some slack. Talk with Billy too. She deserves better than the crap you two have given her."

"I'm sorry." Tommy cried as Y/N put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"Save that apology for your mom and do it sober." They told him before standing up. "Come on, I'll give you a ride home." That was the first time that Tommy had felt extremely bad for how he had treated his mom. He hated himself and he hated his dad.

Once Y/N had pulled up outside of the Maximoff residence, Wanda came running out, worry etched onto her features as Y/N helped Tommy out of the car.

"Is he ok?" She asked them as they helped him inside.

"He's just drunk." They told her when they lay him on the sofa to sleep. "He's going to have one killer headache in the morning."

"Thank you." Wanda told them sincerely as she walked them out.

"It's no problem. They have been served a bad hand. The three of you have." Y/N told her softly as she smiled. "I will help keep my eye on them outside of these walls but the rest is on you Maximoff." They told her as she nodded. Watching as they left once more, this time admiring their form in their uniform.

As the time went on, the twins were better than before with Wanda. Doing chores without being asked and even making her drinks.

"I honestly don't know what has happened but it feels like something out of a horror movie." She whispered to Nat as the two stood on the porch, watching the twins mow the lawn and wash the car.

"I know what you mean. It's kind of like an alien invasion." She replied as Wanda nodded. It wasn't until they saw Y/N doing their rounds. Wanda noted that they weren't in their uniform as they stopped and spoke with the twins. "Or maybe a new person has something to do with it." Nat soon noticed how Wanda was silent as she watched Y/N and the boys laugh about something. "You like them." Nat pointed out as Wanda snapped her head in her friend's direction.

"No." She laughed as Nat smirked.

"Yes you do." She told her. "It's ok to want to move on Wanda."

"I know that but the twins have just stopped hating me." She told her. "If I change something it could ruin it."

As the year went on, Wanda had organised a BBQ for the twins birthday. Inviting their friends and family, Y/N had come with some gifts for the twins. Tickets to see their favourite team play the next game. It wasn't until Vision walked inside like he still owned the house.

"Vision? What are you doing here?" Wanda questioned as Vision smirked.

"I came to wish my boys a happy birthday and give them their present." He said as he waved a set of keys in her face.

"Please leave." She spoke shakily as the twins soon noticed the commotion. Y/N's gaze followed theirs as they soon moved to Wanda.

"She said to leave." Tommy stated as he stood beside Wanda.

"You will speak to your father with respect." He spat at him angrily.

"When you see him, let me know." Tommy smirked as Billy held his mom as she cried. All of her anger, pain and sadness coming back ten fold. It was when Vision was about the back hand Tommy across the face Y/N had stepped in.

"I suggest you leave." They told him as they gripped his wrist tightly.

"Fuck you." Vision spat before taking a swing at Tommy with his other hand. Y/N getting in the way and receiving a jab to the jaw.

"I won't ask again." They snarled as they towered over him. "Leave now or I'll have you arrested for trespassing."

"Whatever." He snarled before turning on his heels and leaving the house. Y/N soon got on their phone to a locksmith.

"The locksmith is coming tomorrow." They told Wanda who soon wrapped her arms around them. They were shocked at the action but reciprocated the hug regardless.

"Thank you." Wanda whispered before she kissed their cheek. The party continuing as Vision had never came. The twins barely left Wanda's side as everyone soon started to leave.

"Y/N." Wanda called out before Y/N got into their car.

"Are you ok?" They asked her as she nodded, not expecting her to wrap her arms around their neck and kissed them passionately. Y/N sunk into the kiss as she deepened it. When she pulled away, they watched dumbfounded as she walked back inside. A smile on her lips.

[kiefbowl]

hi! do you have any advice for negotiating a higher salary? i think the job i was hired to do a few months ago deserves a better pay but idk how to go about asking for it

This is so spooky I was literally thinking about making a post about asking for more money this morning. you must have been listening to my thoughts lol

Yeah, I have some advice, but keep in mind that different companies and industries might have little quirks I'm not aware of, take these points as very broad advice you might want to adapt for your own personal situation:

If you company does any kind of raise schedule (as an example: every year on your anniversary you are entitled to a 1-3% raise based on performance) - if you're about 8-12 weeks until that time, try to hold out until after you get that raise. I only suggest this because almost all companies will tell you the raise you negotiated takes over as your new raise schedule, so this is really just to get more money in the long run. The 8-12 weeks benchmark is just a suggestion to try to keep your request to negotiate and your scheduled raise in different financial quarters, which might help.

Have a clear goal of what you're asking for. Clear doesn't mean "super specific" but it can. At minimum, have the number you're going to be asking for. What's probably better though is to have the number you're going to be asking for if nothing else changes, and what more you'd be willing to do for even more money than that.

Only answer questions that are asked, only provide information as needed. You can start the conversation by saying "I'm coming to you requesting a raise" and let them respond to that. You can say things like "My duties have expanded including xyz" and you can say things like "I think my skillset is valuable" and "I think I provide x value to the company because of y reasons," but don't just launch into a spiel about what you think you deserve without seeing how they react first.

Talk in numbers. Just get straight to the point when they ask how much. Have a number for the amount per year if salary/amount per hour if hourly, plus convert that number into the percentage raise it would be. Asking for 20% more is a big ask, you know what I'm saying? Even if it's fair on the market for you industry, if they're paying that low from the market it means it's built into their business plan and you might want to consider a different company. and if they set a precedent with giving you 20%, they don't have much to stand on when you go tell all your buddies and they start asking for 20%. And if that's the situation at your company, at that point, you might wanna consider just unionizing instead lol.

It's good to consider the other guy on the other side of the table when you're negotiating. People give you things you want if you're considerate of the things they want. Some things to keep in mind that might be on your boss's plate: annual budgets, quarterly budgets, hiring quotas, hiring freezes, established pay structures decided by powers that be way above them that they have no control over, the fact that they will have to take your request to their boss and/or HR to get approval...like speak intelligently to these concerns as best you can. And be in a quid pro quo mindset. The argument is either "I already do this incredibly valuable thing you don't want to lose so give me more money or I will stop doing this by going elsewhere" or "I will do even more incredible value you don't want to lose if you give me more money, or I will do nothing by going elsewhere." Focus on what do they get and what do they lose if you don't get what you want. Except in professional parlance :)

Have confidence that you have every right to just ask. You are not some shit covered indentured peasant speaking to your god appointed king. You are a human person who is allowed to have adult conversations with other adults. If you can keep that confidence of "I'm just an adult having a normal conversation" it'll keep you on track and not get swayed into whatever tangets your boss my hem and haw on. Short, sweet, and to the point as best as possible.

Your boss is probably not fantastic at negotiating because almost no one is. So don't even sweat it. Ambush them a little, be polite, lay it on the table, then ask them what's next. If they seem to be hesitant, weird, put off...you could read malicious evil intent into it, but they're probably just woefully under-prepared and might flail a bit as some distraction. Just be like "Well, we can table this and I'll follow up with you on Friday" if it really seems like they can't get nail down an answer, or if you know they have to talk to their higher up anyway.

You might just get it. It might be the easiest thing you've ever done. I've countered and gotten exactly what I've wanting in 0.005 seconds flat. That's always a bit bittersweet because you just know you could have asked for more lol. Your boss might already have numbers at the ready for when people ask for raises, they just need people to ask. If you're company is doing well and pulling in good revenue, you will probably have a very easy conversation. So go get 'em.

Most importantly, show them your switchblade have fun and just be yourself!!!

[eisforeidolon]

MISHA IS SUPERNATURAL BIGGEST MISTAKE.

CASTIEL COULD HAVE BEEN AN INTERESTING CHARACTER, IF HE HAD BEEN PLAYED BY A TALENTED AND PROFESSIONAL ACTOR. ESPECIALLY PROFESSIONAL AND SERIOUS.

WE DON'T DESERVE MISHA'S LIES AND QUEERBAITING.

BUT I THINK THAT MISHA ONLY TALENTS ARE LYING TO PEOPLE AND QUEERBAITING HIS DESTIEL FANS FOR MONEY. THIS ARE THE ONLY THINGS HE KNOWS HOW TO DO.

DESTIEL ISN'T CANON. JENSEN SAID THAT SO MANY TIMES.

HE EVEN SAID THAT WHEN HE WAS ASKED ABOUT "THE CONFESSION 'S RESOLUTION".

HE SAID THAT THERE WAS NOTHING TO BE RESOLVED. BECAUSE EVEN IF THE "CONFESSION " WAS ROMANTIC, FOR DEAN NOTHING WOULD CHANGE.

DEAN ISN'T IN LOVE WITH CASTIEL. HE ADDRESSES CASTIEL AS DEAN 'S FRIEND AND ONE OF THE PEOPLE CLOSEST TO HIM. BUT THAT'S IT.

JENSEN NEVER ADDRESSES CASTIEL AS DEAN'S POTENTIAL LOVE INTEREST.

JENSEN (AND JARED) SAID MANY TIMES THAT SUPERNATURAL IS ABOUT SAM AND DEAN AND THEIR DEEP BOND AND UNCONDITIONAL LOVE.

15X20 IS THE PROOF OF THAT LOVE. WINCEST IS MORE CANON THAN DESTIEL WILL EVER BE.

I'M TALKING ABOUT PLATONIC LOVE OF COURSE.

I SHIP WINCEST BUT UNLIKE THE HELLERS I KNOW THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN WHAT IS CANON AND WHAT IS JUST A FANTASY.

15x20 SHOWS TO THE VIEWER THE ESSENCE OF THE RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN SAM AND DEAN.

SPOILER FOR 15X20.

SPOILER FOR 15X20

SPOLER FOR 15X20

DEAN DIES, BUT EVEN IN HIS LAST MOMENTS HE COMMITS HIMSELF TO ONLY LOVE SAM. HE SAYS HE LOVES HIM AND THAT IT'S ALWAYS BEEN THEM TOGETHER AGAINST THE WORLD.

" IT'ALWAYS BEEN YOU... AND ME". THAT'S WHAT DEAN SAYS.

THE PAUSE IN THAT PHRASE, THE WAY THEY EMBRACE, THE FOREHEAD TOUCH. EVERYTHING IN THE SCENE IS POINTING TO WHO IS WATCHING THAT DEAN GREATEST LOVE IS SAM.

THIS IS A CONFESSION. PLATONIC AND SO BEAUTIFUL. BETTER THAN ANY OTHER "ROMANTIC" CONFESSION THAT I EVER SEEN OR I EVER HEARD.

END SPOILER FOR 15X20.

OF COUSE DEAN IS ALSO SAM GREATEST LOVE, BUT I WANTED TO GIVE MY ATTENTION TO DEAN 'S BEHAVIOUR TOWARDS SAM VS DEAN BEHAVIOUR TOWARD CASTIEL IN THEIR LAST SCENE TOGETHER. THERE IS NO COMPARISON BETWEEN THE TWO.

WE ALL KNOW THAT SUPERNATURAL WAS ALWAYS ABOUT SAM AND DEAN AND THAT A LOVE STORY CAN BE ABOUT TWO BROTHER WHO SAVED EACH OTHER AND FOUGHT MONSTERS, EVIL CREATURES, DEMONS, ANGELS, THE DEVIL AND GOD FOR STAYING WITH EACH OTHER.

OF COURSE WE CANNOT SAY SAM AND DEAN WITHOUT TALKING ABOUT JARED AND JENSEN. THEIR ACTING, THEIR CHEMISTRY INSIDE THE SHOW AND OUTSIDE TOO, THEIR KINDNESS, IS WHAT MAKES SUPERNATURAL A SHOW THAT CHANGED MY LIFE.

I ALWAYS GET EMOTIONAL ABOUT THIS SHOW. THAT'S WHY I CAN'T STAND PEOPLE LIKE MISHA WHO ALWAYS SAYS SHIT ABOUT THE SHOW AND THE ACTORS ( JARED AND JENSEN)

THANK YOU FOR LISTENING TO MY RANT, SORRY FOR MY ENGLISH, IT ISN'T MY FIRST LANGUAGE, AND I HOPE THAT I DIDN'T ANNOY YOU OR BOTHERED YOU.

MAY LOVE AND KINDNESS ALWAYS FIND YOU.

I have to agree. Also, your English is fine and I definitely understand the need to rant about all this nonsense sometimes, that's why I've got this blog! <3

I do actually feel like Misha was a perfectly serviceable actor way back at the beginning. I even get why they decided to keep him around when he proved popular with the fandom. It was indeed proven a mistake in so, so many ways as time went on, though.

Yeah, first and most egregious is the kind of person Misha turned out to be - or at least turned into after so many years of fans blowing smoke up his ass. A bitter, entitled, ungrateful, lazy backstabber who is perfectly comfortable telling blatantly obvious and contradictory self-serving lies and nonsense. Whether that's about the ship or his relative importance to the show directly, whether that's skeevy sexual comments about Jensen/Dean, whether that's trying to paint Jared as some kind of evil bully that abused him. He keeps proving again and again there is no bar he won't limbo under.

Next is I think his performance on the show and what his continued presence on the show resulted in plot-wise from the writers. He was fine at first when he was just playing a non-human mysterious figure that only appeared now and then and had a major role in the whole structure of the apocalypse. He even had a pretty good arc leading up to the Leviathans. The problem was they kept him around as a "fan favorite" after that when they really didn't have anything for him to do but eat up screen time to give J2 time off. Would we have really gotten so much bad, circular angel politics if there wasn't a need to give Castiel something to do to keep Misha employed? I personally doubt it. Even worse than that, though? As time went on, Misha seemed to recognize that his only relevance was baiting shippers and wasting time and leaned into turning Castiel into the type of character he gets written as in so much bad D/C fanfic - a pathetic mostly human woobie who is completely useless for anything but the projection of bizarre teen romance fantasies that don't make any damn sense. Which culminated in that bizarre ambiguous queerbait he and Bobo the Clown cooked up for Castiel's exit. Which doesn't even touch his later seasons' presumable attempts at acting where his choices for Lucifer!Castiel & AU!Castiel & Empty!Castiel were all ... entirely made up of bad accents and gurning. It wasn't about any of those character's motivations or places in the narrative, it was about the laziest possible attempt to differentiate them from his normal character. Even in latter season's SPN, which IMNSHO had so, so many issues dragging things down, Misha's lack of interest in anything but the size of his paychecks and con earnings played into some of the worst.

Which brings us to D/C and the whole supposedly canon thing. Canon is literally what happened. D/C didn't happen, it's that simple. Castiel rambled some ambiguous bullshit about love and got sucked into the Empty while Dean looked bewildered and sad at him from several feet away. Misha can make up as many stories about what the character was totally thinking and how he was totally coming back in the finale and queerbaiting about what will totes happen in a revival, but not a word of it actually makes what Castiel said "I'm IN love with you". Nor does it magically manifest a reciprocation from Dean. What doesn't happen on screen but actors or TPTB say about the canon is often called Word of God. Which yes, Misha's does not outweigh everything Jensen and Jared and various showrunners have clearly said. Jensen might have gotten less confrontational about shooting it down over the years, but the underlying message hasn't changed. Meanwhile, not only do the details of Misha's stories constantly change, but the general message of his claims has flip flopped so many times. The show was about the brothers, no actually the brothers and the angel! He joked about wincest, no actually he'd never heard of it! He didn't want to say what that scene meant, no actually feel free to attack anyone who says it wasn't a homosexual declaration of love! There's more, but Misha's not worth the effort of looking them up.

As you say, at the end of the day, anyone watching the totality of the show and seeing how it ended? It's very obvious the center of the story was a platonic love story. A complicated one, granted, but Sam and Dean so many times made it very clear that it was them ... and everyone else. Except in the same way that acknowledging that doesn't serve the hellers agenda in demanding a continuation must center their ship so they can finally have visuals to go with their fanfic, acknowledging that doesn't serve Misha's agenda of fleecing them out of money for telling them it will happen for as long as he can get away with it.

[olderthannetfic]

People who cry about wanting comments on their fic annoy the fuck out of me. Stop being shitty. You're not entitled to me hugging you and telling you that your garbage is gold and even if it is gold, if you need applause from the internet you're so insecure it's embarrassing. Grow the fuck up. Fandom is a support group where we all act as your little yesmen. Real authors don't write hoping they'll get gushing fanmail from strangers, they write to create art. This is why almost none of you get published btw. You're too fragile. Real editors would eat most of you alive.

--

Pretty sure lots of real authors do dream of gushing fanmail from strangers even if they primarily write for autotelic reasons.

And interestingly, writers' groups that are all hug-hug-hug apparently have better success getting people to finish projects than ones that are more critical, which often leads to more overall professional success because finishing anything at all tends to be the biggest hurdle.

Editorial standards are also down, and almost no one gets published compared to how many people want to be, fragile or otherwise...

But, yes, a lot of fic writers do phrase their desire for attention in a way that's pretty offputting, as though only they ever wanted or deserved it and as though some specific (and usually unrealistically large) quantity is a right.

The part I find irksome is when people talk as though A Writer is a special class of being and fic readers are ingrates who don't understand. It's even worse from the hustle culture types, but it's rife regardless.

In reality, of course, large numbers of fic fans who primarily read have at least dabbled in writing in a way that isn't necessarily so for the majority of people buying a book at a bookstore.

These aren't separate groups of people: we're a community. And while I'd like more comments, I'm certainly not shocked that good comments are also hard to write and take time.

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

I saw this one post tagged under Aang deserved better and Katara deserved better. As someone who loves both characters. I hate how people mischaracterize them while saying they supposedly deserved better, when really they’re just salty about shipping when it comes down to it.

Here’s the post:

https://www.tumblr.com/empressofthesunslittlecorner/748486832898048000/a-rant-about-aang-and-byrke?source=share

"What does a 14-year-old want with a 12-year-old?" Same thing a 16-year-old wants with a 14-year-old, aka maybe a romantic relationship, maybe just a hook up, maybe just friendship, maybe nothing at all. You can't put people in a box like that. When I was 14 I wouldn't have cared if the person who had a crush on me was too years younger, two years older, or the exact same, all that would matter would be "Do I like them back or not?" Plenty of girls my age were the same, others would be caught dead with someone younger, and others thought that it was weird to date anyone older.

"It's just creepy, no matter the gender" *proceeds to ship Zutara, that has the same age gap, but the guy is older*

"It would have been better if they got together at like 22 and 20" Why? It's a two year agep gap, not twenty - why age them up to adulthood? 12-years-old is right around the time most people either start having crushes, or already have been having crushes for a while, it's not weird. And again, why it Zutara acceptable with Karata being fourteen, but Aang needs to be at least twenty for it to not be creepy, even though the only thing that changed was the gender of the younger character?

"I haven't read the comics" good for you, don't do it, they're terrible, every character was ruined and Yang should be as hated by the fandom as Shyamalan.

"But what I saw on tumblr" Ah yes, because you can always trust that people online are not biased, mistaken, or full on lying. Just ask the leader writer, Aaron Ehasz, about all the times he had to say "No, zutara was never going to be a thing, please stop sharing that fake interview in which people claim I said otherwise"

"Legend of Korra" Korra is also terrible, that's why the audience for it got so bad that Nick just dumped the final season online without a care.

"He kissed her TWICE, TWICE, without her consent and never said sorry for this" Nope, it was ONE poorly timed kiss that he immediately felt sorry for. Katara is seen blushing and thinking on that kiss during The Invasion because she enjoyed that kiss.

"He thinks he deserves her love because he is the Avatar (the hero) and that's how it be" He thinks the girl that got offended when he said he didn't want to kiss her, that has flirted with constantly, and has consensually kissed twice already is at the very least a potential girlfriend. When he is made to question if that's really the case, he full on ASKS HER if she only thinks of him as a brother and he simply misinterpreted her signs, to which she openly says THAT WAS NOT THE CASE. He explicitly mentions "After we kissed, I thought that meant we were together." He never, ever, ever said "I'm the Avatar, therefore you have to like me." Just because AN ACTOR in a play about THE AVATAR called her "the Avatar's girl" instead of "Aang's girl" doesn't mean he thinks his role means more than her feelings - again, he literally went to talk with her to clear things out. This is not how an entitled person behaves.

"He replaced the love for his people with Katara" No, he did not. The Guru explicitly said "Your love for them lives on the form of new love." When he saw Gyatso's dead body, Katara saying she and Sokka were his new family was what made Aang calm down. Yes, Aang is in love with her, but that moment was much more about general, familial love than romantic love. Honoring the people you lost by valluing your connection to the ones that are still in your life is not placing a burden on them, or being obsessed with them, or thinking that being loved by them will fix your trauma.

"He needed to let go of her" He did. Twice. First in Ba Sing Se, which led to him being killed and KATARA bringing back to life, then again in "The Awakening", in which he just up and leaves to focus on his mission and Katara is heartbroken because SHE DOES NOT WANT TO BE LET GO OF!

"Aang could still love Katara, he just needed to stop to put her on a pestal!" He never put her on a pedestal. He knew she was flawed and would openly disagree and even argue with her at times. Cherishing someone is not the same as idealizing them.

"Book three was... bad, and so was the finale" No, it wasn't. It had it's issues and it is the weakest season, but it is still good. Most of the problems were caused by poor pacing due to them sticking to three seasons instead of four. Aang's feelings for Katara were not a problem to be fixed, because the "entitlement" you complain about doesn't exist.

"Aang is a self-insert of Bryke" Bryan and Mike have repeatedly said that they're like Aang AND ZUKO, in the sense that one is goofy and the other is grumpy. By that logic, Zuko is also a self-insert, therefore shipping him with Katara would also be "bad."

"They act like Zuko is a bad boy instead of a dork" Zuko is a dork with social anxiety, who spent two and half seasons SUPPORTING GENOCIDE. "Bad boy" doesn't even BEGIN to describe him.

"No normal 14-year-old girl would date a 12-year-old and if she did call the police on her ass!" Go touch grass, you're insane, two children having feelings for each other is not pedophilia.

"Avatar was only amazing because of writers like Aaron Ehasz" Ehasz himself disagrees with you, and a lot of the "good changes" you made were decided by/along with Bryke.

"A lot of writer wanted also Zutara to happen and not Kataang" Ah, I see you DID read that fake interview. The writers were all on board with Kataang, even though some of them did like Zutara AS WELL. They're not mutually exclusive, you know?

"If I remember right season 3 was so rushed and lacking because the movie-who-shall-not-be-named was in production" You're remembering made up bullshit just right. Fans keep repeating that, and even I once wrongfully believed that in the past, but it's not true. The movie was going to happen regardless of when the show ended, and Bryke genuinely only wanted three seasons instead of four. Bad idea? Yes, but nothing to do with Shyamalan.

"Aang would find other airbenders" If that's true, I'm glad it was scrapped, THE LAST AIRBENDER needs to be THE LAST AIRBENDER for the show's premise and name to make any sense. Korra was also heavily criticized for a later seasons plot point of random people just magically becoming airbenders because it cheapens the gravity of the genocide by going "Lol, fooled ya! They're still running around!"

"Broodmare to repopulate" Three children is not exactly repopulating a nation, you should have paid more attention in math class.

"I'm a big fan of the theoretical season four" You being a fan of a thing that doesn't exist is surely on brand for a zutarian.

"Also, people who make fun of their own fans because they ship a pairing themselves not like are the worst!" Scream the zutarian that is doing exactly that. If you can complain about ships and call people creeps for it, you can take people pointing out your ship is just a figment of your imagination. Either suck it up or change your behavior so you're no longer a hypocrite.

[howlsofbloodhounds]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!! (Hope I'm not late TvT)

GRgehehheh I can't draw rn but I'll give some headcanons I have on the back burner of my mind

- Valentine by Laufey is definitely Killermare's / ColorKiller's song

- The star sanses are the most overworked sanses ever and if they do have vacations they have dates in underswap because they feel the safest there

- Imagine Killer meeting Color for the first time after being with Nightmare for so long, like, His eyes already got so used to the dark that seeing Color literally blinded him or something

- Geno and Dream are secret besties

- Bad Sans poly but everyone has a major crush on killer meanwhile Killer is the most oblivious one out of all of them

- Epic likes to show Delta memes but Delta does NOT know what the hell memes are (I like to imagine he's just a guy that doesn't get into internet culture a lot)

- Domestic ColorKiller but Killer adopts a stray black cat that reminds him of Nightmare (he's coping)

I have more but these are the ones I remember the most shfhwhhdhw

Thank you! Dw, you’re not late!

And I have to give that song a listen to soon, but i love that yall are recommending me songs, please keep doing that 🙏. And the idea of both Color and Delta not being very big online people is hilarious, because they have no clue whatsoever what Epic is talking about, but at least Epic has Cross and Killer.

Bad Sans Poly where Killer is oblivious is adorable, but i raise you that Killer is very aware and just thinks it isn’t real—and if it is real, then it’ll pass.

Honestly i think Color would be supportive of Killer having a cat like that. Killer may be more hesitant, because it’s not like he misses Nightmare for any emotional reasons or Nightmare as a person—he just got used to his presence, the purpose provided, although he definitely prefers what Color offers more—and if he’s trying to “be better,” and “good” then missing Nightmare might be “bad.”

Only Color comes in clutch, reassuring him that emotions are not “good” or “bad”, and no one gets to tell him who he can or can’t miss—regardless of what his relationship with those people might’ve been.

So long as Killer is aware of the harm done to him, that it was undeniably wrong and unwarranted and not deserved at all, hes entitled to feeling or thinking whatever he feels or thinks about nightmare. And that doesn’t make him “bad” and isnt a sign of backtracking or making no progress—and i think killer would definitely be the one focusing on being taught how to be a “good person” part, using color as his moral compass, even though color is just more focused on keeping him safe, healthy, happy and recovering.

{ @orchidlikesgamez }

[ebonysplendor]

Bad End Cinderella (Demo)🤴

TL;DR: You ever look at a character in a story and think that they're deserving of what they got? Well, maybe, they can still get their good end, too. ...But probably not in this case.

Game Link: https://sauceco.itch.io/bad-end-cinderella

Notable Features: Male MC, Named MC, female LI, story heavy Spiciness: 1/5 -- And it's not really even spicy. The man is taking a bath with a glass of wine. Don't get me wrong, he looks good, but it's more of a vibe versus suggestive. LI MC Red Flags: 2/5 -- Obsessive, possessive, short-tempered, entitled, self-centered; he doesn't do much, but you can tell that it's brewin'.

Wanna know more? Even though it doesn't say 18+ explicitly, it does say that minors shouldn't interact...which is anyone under 18. That being said, shuffle off if you aren't of age. If you are of age, let's get into it!

Ah, intros. I never know what to put in them, so...I guess I'll talk more about the game but not so much it'll make the review pointless.

So, this game was really good, and it's not even done. Like, ugh, the writing is just so...it's elegant. Like, I want to buy it some champagne and do the posh "Oh ho ho ho ho~!" laugh as we exchange tales about poor people activities, even though I am the poor people, ya feel me? Let me tell you though, the story is everything but elegant. Like, the yandere? A royal? More like a royal fuck up. Ohhhhh~! Got hit ass!

Also, I almost forgot to mention that I put "MC Red Flags" because we're playing from the yandere's point of view which makes us him and him the main character and the main character is us since we're making the decisions for him. See? We're him and he's us. Just a heads up for that one.

Okay, is-- is the intro long enough? Are you cool with the intro being this short? Genuinely? You're gucci with me just jumping in? Because, I'm deadass just stalling. Bless you, let's stop stalling then, because I really want to tell you about this game. As usual, I'll tell you as much about the visual novel as possible without ruining the story itself.

With that out of the way, let's get into it.

Once upon a time Yeah, nah. I know it flows like a fairy tale and all, but nah. We're doing this my way.

So boom (ah~ much better).

Our -- well Claude's; that's the yandere by the way -- wife left us for some wack ass pleb, and we are officially the gossip among the commoners and will lowkey be the laughing stock of the royals. Honestly, it's embarrassing and really damned infuriating.

We're kind've running back where the marriage went wrong, and we've pretty much come to the conclusion that shit went left when we chose a hoe over our heart. Who was our heart, you ask? None other than our housemaid and (lowkey) childhood friend/sweetheart Ella.

We start reminiscin' about our one and only Ella, and just kind've recalled that we hadn't felt that genuine warmth, love, and happiness since her. Like, yeah, admittedly, we felt that with our wife for a bit, but it was mainly because she kind've boosted our ego quite a bit in the beginning, and it's like...she was there, so we may as well have learned to vibe with her a bit.

Pfft, yeah right. You see how that shit turned out. 6 years of straight misery. Fuck her and fuck that baker, too. Well...I don't know if he was a baker or not but...look, Silvia is a hoe, and so is her entire damned lineage. Period. Ella would've never ran off with some peasant the way that she did.

Wait...

Actually...we never really thought about that before. Granted, what we said about Ella never treating us the way that our ex-wife had is true, but we're starting to think that maybe that other part about her never running off with some guy is...not entirely true.

No, no, no, no, no. Negative thoughts rejected. That can't be true; it's not true. She's our Ella, and our Ella would've waited for us; our Ella did wait for us. We just have to finalize this stupid divorce and go looking for her.

So, we do. We finish the paperwork, break the shackles of being held down by a harlot that we tried to make into a queen just for her to go back to the cobblestones where she belongs, and look for our precious Ella. That being said, even though true love conquers all, this is pretty tall task to accomplish on our own, so we go to our main ally:

Esra, the royal oracle.

Nah, don't get excited, because this was a fucking waste of our time. This man wasn't an ally at all, let alone any actual help!

First off, we asked him for help, and it's just attitude with him. Like, excuse you? I'm your king? Watch your tone? Second, when we finally do get him to the point where he actually does what he's supposed to do, this mothafucka looks in his little special book and is like "Don't do it". Like, huh?! The fuck you mean "don't do it"? I ain't ask you for advice, I asked you for help, specifically how to get to my damned Ella. Then he's all "Okay, but the stars said--!" and we're like "Boy, fuck you and them stars"! Like, sir, not you telling me not to look for my Ella?!

Bump it.

We just take our lil' "help" and go on about our business, but it's like, it sucks, because now, we have to regroup and consider another ally. We start getting frustrated because why should we even have to do this in the first place, ya know? Like, why couldn't that dumbass oracle just help us like instructed? Now, because of him, we have to waste more time finding another ally, and the only other person we can even consider is ... oh Gods why ...

Floren fucking Winters. Let me tell you about this motherfucker...

He was the biggest ass to us when we were children, but unfortunately and admittedly, his bloodline is pretty top tier when it comes to combat. That being said, because of the arrangement between our families, we stay royal and they stay loyal per our late father's decree, so Floren's dad served, Floren currently serves, his future kid will serve, and so on and so forth. Anyways, I'll get more into this asshat's backstory with us later.

So, Floren comes trotting over in the middle of our monologuing talking mad shit already. He pretty much leads with "Worried about me when your divorce isn't even finalized? That's crazy. Oh, and that guy she ran off with? Lmao I bought him a beer".

Oh word? Is this what we're gonna do? Haha ooh, bitch...

Let me explain something real quick to y'all.

This dude (likely) had feelings for Ella at one point, too, if not still, and has always thought that we weren't good enough to be in her graces. That being said, remember that whole arrangement I brought up earlier? We stay royal and they stay loyal? Guess who had to ship out for 5 years to war? Guess who was making the moves on Ella for those 5 years when he was gone? Yeeeeeeeeah lmao.

So we remember all this, and we take a quick second to get on our king shit, because at the end of the day, he's beneath us, and we're damned sure gonna remind him.

See that? Now those of you that watch anime know that when the protagonist or the antagonist does this, they're about to lay into that ass and fuck up someone's world.

"Remember when you were playing hero those 5 years? It took less than that for Ella to create a divot in my hand and in my arms. Our worst times together were, would be, and are significantly better than your best times with her. Tell me you're jealous without telling me that you're jealous. Letting my birthright dictate what I do? Couldn't be me~"

Look at his face. Look at those dots. Silence. We ain't even have to correct him about the divorce...I mean, we did, but you know...summarizing. Wait, stop, don't get me off track.

Even though we just said all of that, and we had a "checkmate, bitch" sort of moment, we didn't really "win" the argument, because Floren kind've checks us about one very specific detail.

"'Couldn't be you?' Dude, it was you. You threw Ella away like a used toy when Silvia came along, and now you suddenly want to play with her again? The way that you're treating her like an object that's only there for your convenience is actually gross."

...Chile, so anyways. That thing about allies? Floren is far from one.

Even though, he was lowkey right. If Ella saw us now, she...wouldn't be entirely happy, especially about how we kind've blew up at Floren like that. We really have changed over the years, and we're starting to question our own integrity a bit despite feeling like we're still a good person overall. We love Ella, -- our Ella -- and we would do literally anything to be reunited with her.

"Are you so willing to risk the lives of unwilling innocents just to achieve your goals?"

Easily. The stars refused to shed light on our fate when asked, so I'll commit the sin first and ask for forgiveness later. That being said...

And we are probably going to sin a lot.

I'm gonna repeat myself a little bit here, but y'all the game isn't even done, and it's this good! Admittedly, as some of you that have been rocking with me know, I'm conceited when it comes to these visual novels, so I always want to be able to self-insert, and (of course) I prefer the LI to be a guy. That being said, when I saw that this was what it was I was like "Eh..." but considering that I'm a sucker for styling and that this was one of the people who are working on the masterpiece Something's Wrong with Sunny Day Jack -- **cough cough** I have a review of it here; shameful plug **cough cough** -- I gave it the ol' college try.

Okay, so, let's talk about the pacing, which was amazing. It honestly could not have been executed any better, in my opinion. The way that it just jumps right into the thick of it but not so much so that it's disorienting was such an Olympic skill. It was just so crazy that the dev was able to do that but still ease into the actual story where we see this man slowly spiral and the plotline start to take hold. It was just so beautifully done. Speaking of being beautifully done...

The yandere, Claude, is being written so well. Like mentioned, I'm genuinely enjoying the slow spiraling of this man, and I cannot wait to see how far he'll actually go for this Ella girl. Like, to read about the moment that he realized that "Oh shit...what are the chances that the woman that I blew off didn't actually wait for me?" and then he basically gets bout it, bout it with the royal oracle AND the captain of the royal guard? Not to mention, he actually acknowledges that something is potentially off with him but he rationalizes his actions and says that he's a good person and that he's doing it for love?! Like, brooooooo. We don't see it yet, but this man is bound to become a menace, and I am demanding an update!....please, I fucking beg, dev. I. BEG.

Also, just as a side thing. Can we just take a minute to talk aboUT HOW FINE FLOREN WINTERS IS???

Like Claude and Ersa are cute, don't get me wrong, but it's something about Floren. Hell, it's not something, it's errythang about Floren Winters! Like, that is hubby. That is baby daddy, and I don't even want kids, ya feel me? Like, I volunteer to keep that whole "You'll serve, your children'll serve, and then their children'll serve, and so on" thing going. We can spend plenty of time to make some babies, okay?

But no, yeah, I feel very strongly about the direction that this game is going in, and I am really excited about how the story will pan out. Like, what the hell was Ersa referring to? Why did his face literally just...?

Like, do you see that? That is genuine horror. Like, I imagine that he's seen countless prophecies, both good and bad, so what kind've shit did he see that was so appalling that he was just like "Bro, don't do this"? Like, deadass, my guy? Just straight up don't do it?? DUDE, WHAT TF DID HE SEEEEEE??????? Like, I want to know so bad! Best believe that if and when this full game drops, I will be right damned there!

Anyways, I'm gonna end it there because some of you already know how I get when it's a game that I really like. I'm gonna stop my yapping while I'm ahead. Before I officially end it though, I want to give you guys the link just in case you want to play it for yourself, and I absolutely think that you should. Also, it's been a while since the dev has gotten any comments, so if you want to do my bidding and let them know "PLEASE. I MUST KNOW HOW CLAUDE FUCKS THIS UP. UPDATE PLEASE. I mean...rest and take your time, but I'm literally offering my soul here", I'm sure they'd be delighted to know that people are still enjoying and anticipating their game. I'm pretty certain they're a part of the SnaccPop team, but I didn't see anything to donate to them as their own separate creator. If you find something, I'm sure they'd appreciate the monetary support, especially individually.

Okay, I'm gonna stop yapping for realsies now. Big preesh for getting this far. Like always, please remember to drink water, don't be dumb, and hope to see you around~!

Bad End Cinderella

[lazyjellyfish300]

Can I request "watching a horror movie with Peter B. Parker"? 😳

Reader loves horror movies but Pete invites her over without knowing that

HIII. Sure, love! 🫶🏽 Wasn't sure if you meant to submit this as a SMAU request, since this idea seems to be more suited for a fic. My fic requests technically aren't open rn but since there is scarce material for Peter B., I will make ur dreams come true 🎃

I will open my requests for the entire month of October too as like a Flufftober thing so stay tuned for more information about that. 🖤

a horror movie night with peter b. 🎥🍿🎃🕸️🔪

CW: X FEM!READER, TAD SUGGESTIVE , MINORS DNI, DESCRIPTIONS OF BLOOD AND GORE, NAUSEA, KINDA GROSS. FLUFF AND CRACK. MINIMAL PROOFREAD.

WORDS: 2.6K 🔪

@1-900-venusluvs @thatone-writer @spider-mon-de-parker @gltzpzy @pxtched

"Man, how are you about to have a Halloween movie marathon date night and no Halloween treats or decorations?!"

Margo Kess brings her fingertips together and leans forward, as though the absurdity of the situation was such that it required her full contemplation.

Peter B. quirked a brow, seemingly unable to grasp the seriousness of his offense.

"You're supposed to decorate?"

"Not supposed to, but you should." A new voice chimes in from around the corner.

Peter B. groans internally. He would be outnumbered this time. Enhanced spider hearing was both a blessing and a curse. And this time it leaned more towards a curse as it enabled the two spidergirls access to his private business.

2 versus 1.

Gwen saunters in, accompanied by a curious Pav.

Scratch that, make it three.

"It's kinda like returning your grocery cart in the parking lot. You won't get arrested if you don't do it. But it's a litmus test about whether or not you're a good citizen, or in this case a thoughtful boyfriend." Gwen hums.

Peter B. rakes his fingers through his hair, leaving the brown mop with flecks of silver disheveled.

"Oy vey, you ladies act like I'm not even going to feed the poor girl. I have snacks on the itinerary, you know this."

"Let me put it this way." Margo angles her clasped hands at Peter to lay down her point. "Your girlfriend is coming over to your apartment for the first time. Cool Ranch Doritos and Diet Coke isn't gonna cut it. And I say that as an individual who particularly appreciates those two things. Do you even have soap in your bathroom? Not counting the one you scrub your ass with in the shower? "

Peter groans, his mind suddenly plagued with an unchecked to do list of God knows how many items he was missing. And the movie date was to happen in t-minus 5 hours. He must have been out of the dating pool for longer than he thought.

But, they made a compelling point. Peter was crazy about you, and you deserved better than that. After a couple dates and a few intimate encounters that got a little bit, steamy, shall we say, your relationship was at a pivotal point. Teetering at the precipice between something serious and long lasting, or a fling that springs to a flame quickly but blows out with the winds of a couple fleeting months.

He sure hoped it was the former.

"We got you." Gwen assured, nudging his rib with her elbow. "Just give us your credit card and like... three hours?"

Pav strains his neck into the conversation. "I am correct in making the assumption that pumpkin spice flavored beverages and cake pops will be part of this excursion?"

Gwen sighs. "Yes, Pav."

Margo nods. "Yeah, you know, we could use your attention to detail, Pav."

Pav clenches his fist victoriously and Peter sweats a little bit for his financial stability by the end of this.

----

Peter can't recognize his living room as it's been transformed from head to toe into one of those rooms straight off some girl's Pinterest board entitled, "fall bucket list <3 🎃"

Festive orange candy corn and purple cauldron lights are strewn around his TV and from the ceiling to the floor, secured discreetly by spider webbing. His entertainment center is decked out in ghost shaped tea lights, casting decorative shadows on his empty walls. A large candle is burning on his coffee table that smells like a cinnamon pumpkin exploded in an apple orchard in the heart of October during a rain storm. Next to the candle is a large charcuterie board with assorted fruits, cheeses, crackers, and deli meats arranged to look like a spooky graveyard, next to a large tub of freshly popped popcorn with a mummy on it.

"The socks were all Pav's idea." Gwen hums in approval as she stands in front of her, Margo, and Pav's handiwork. Pav nods his head in acknowledgement, mouth full of a generous swig of his fall blended coffee drink in one hand with a half eaten cake pop in the other.

Peter notices the jack o'lantern print socks for him and the witches striped socks for you sitting next to some Frankenstein decorative throw pillows, along with an extra large plush throw blanket with black cats dressed up as trick or treaters, big enough for two people to snuggle underneath.

"Oh and do not forget to give her this!!" Margo holds out a spooky basket stuffed to the brim with all your favorite things straight out of a Target Halloween aisle.

"Hold on a sec, Burt's Bees, perfume, Ulta gift card...how much did you guys spend??"

"The pizza will be here in 10 minutes." Gwen checks her watch.

"Wait-hold on..." Peter B. is extremely particular about his pizza toppings.

"Oh, and we made some improvements to your bathroom. So it should be girlfriend-friendly." Margo shivers as she recollects the sad state of affairs they found it in before the trio waved their magic wands.

"Guys-"

Ding dong.

"Ope, that's her. Time to skaddadle. Anyways, good luck Pete!" Gwen webs to the outside window in the blink of an eye, Margo giving him the farewell salute close behind.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't dooo!" Pav calls in a sing-song voice before he's already gone as well.

Nothing like being thrown out a window without a parachute huh?

Peter straightens up and walks to the door.

Here goes freaking nothing.

He opens it and there you are, donning a comfortable crew neck Halloween sweater and eccentric earrings to match, a pan of brownies in hand.

Suddenly, the price tag of his Halloween apartment remodel is completely irrelevant.

You flash him a gorgeous smile. "Hi Pete."

"Hi, honey..." His lips spread into a charming grin. "Come on in."

You hand him the brownies and walk in, oxygen discarded in the entryway when you see the decked out, cozy movie setup for your date.

His apartment smells divine, first of all, and second of all, his living room looks like something straight out of your ideal version of a movie night if you could have planned it from scratch in your head.

It pulls you in like a freshly baked cinnamon roll with pumpkin cream cheese frosting with a blanket around your shoulders. You might just end up spending the night at this rate. You look over at Peter who's lost in your beauty like usual.

"All this for us? You shouldn't have, Pete! It's perfect."

"Y-yeah, hah. It was nothing, really. Just a little something. Wanted it to be festive, you know since it's Halloween and October and all."

He tried to play it off. You smile as he sets the pan of brownies down, almost catching his hoodie sleeve on fire on the giant candle in the process.

You weren't born yesterday. Peter must have some really sharp coworkers or something that did all this for him. He didn't seem like one with a knack or ability to be this elaborate. But, he was thoughtful, you'd give him that. He really was a man you hoped to be with for a long long time. And this Halloween date night, even if it was brought to you by the goodwill of the pumpkin fairy, you appreciated the gesture all the same.

"Make yourself at home." Peter gestures to the couch. The tense feeling in his muscles departs the moment you lean against his chest with a sigh.

"I missed you babe."

"I missed you, honey." He smiles, running a finger down the side of your face.

"What's this?" You take notice of the conspicuous Halloween gift basket and matching socks.

"Oh-those are for us." Peter leans forward, handing you your pair of socks. "And this is for you..." He hands you the spooky gift basket.

Your smile spreads wider and wider across your face as you unwrap each item. Who gives a damn if the pumpkin fairy was responsible? Nobody's ever done anything like this for you.

"Pete....you're so sweet. Thank you."

"No problem, beautiful."

Your gaze moves to one another's lips, both of your eyelids inadvertently becoming heavier when your eyes meet his.

"Um-" the apples of Peter's cheeks bloom a little red as he takes the remote hastily in his hand. "Let's get started, shall we?"

You nod, looking down with a smile as you shifted to get more comfortable on the couch, leaning snug against his chest, both feet tucked in your brand new socks and underneath the fuzzy edges of the Halloween blanket. There would be plenty of time for some action later.

"Why don't you choose the movie, honey?" Peter hands you the remote.

Honored with the power in your hand he was relinquishing over to you, you take it with a smile and begin to scroll through your options on his flat screen TV.

Peter kicks his feet up leisurely, already making a sizeable dent in the popcorn bucket. The doorbell rings again, signaling the arrival of the pizza.

—-

When Peter sets the plates of two generous slices for each of you on the coffee table with bottled root beers, he is a little surprised to discover the option you landed on while he was gone.

"Oh, what's this?"

"Psychological horror." You hum nonchalantly ,snuggling next to him and taking a large bite of the pizza, melted cheesy goodness warming your belly.

"I heard it's really good. It won an Oscar for the special effects, I heard."

"Ohh."

Peter gulps. He wasn't expecting you to make such a...bold choice for the first movie. You look up at him with those adorable big eyes of yours, a little bit of pizza sauce staining the corner of your mouth.

Well what was he going to do? Tell you no? Reveal that he's actually a huge pussy when it comes to scary movies? When he invited you over for movie night, he was expecting Tim Burton level horror. Not this hard core stuff.

Well, once again, here goes nothing.

---

Movie number one is done, and Peter already knows he's having fucking nightmares tonight. It's gonna take a prescription of an episode of Friends, maybe 2 episodes of the Fresh Prince of Bel Air to cleanse his system before he can comfortably fall asleep, just to be safe.

And there you are, happy as a clam.

"That was crazyyyy don't you think??" You turn to him with an enthusiastic smile.

"Uh, yeah it was...it was something alright, honey."

Peter's white as a ghost, but miraculously you seem to remain unaware of his struggling state, possibly thanks to the dim light, as the sun has set below the horizon for quite some time now.

"Can we watch one more?" You ask, sitting up to help yourself to a brownie.

"Um..."

And once again, what is Peter to do?

"Sure we can, honey."

"Yay!"

Peter feels like he might have a little bit of hope as you start looking at some older films. Those cheesy horror movies could probably be much more manageable.

"This one!"

But oh no, he's not getting off the hook so easily. His heart sinks to his stomach as he realizes he's in for another long ride.

You chose some 80s slasher film. And yes, while it has that corny nature of old horror movies, there is no shortage of gore. Blood spurts everywhere, guts flying across the screen. It's detailed and it's quite violent.

Oh here we go...

----

About an hour in and Peter feels himself turn a sickly shade of green.

This time, it's more obvious as you notice Peter seems to be fighting for his life next to you. He isn't digging the horror flick as much as you thought.

"Babe, you okay?" You look up at him, the expression on his face slightly unclear, as the glow of the TV's flicker shadows his face a bit.

He turns to look down at you tucked under his arm. "Y-yeah. I'm good, honey."

He gives your shoulder a squeeze but he's not winning an Oscar for his acting anytime soon. He chokes back a gag when the masked killer slices one of the character's throat and a blood squirt shoots up like a volcano of forbidden fruit punch.

"You don't like these?" You ask, raising a concerned brow.

"Well..." Peter winces as he watches the fake red sea of viscous blood fill up the screen as the killer held up the decapitated head.

"Not particularly, I mean..."

The guts on screen begin to look like his pizza toppings. Peter B.'s appetite flies out of the window quicker than the beginnings of his hairline at age 28.

"Yeah n-no, not really..." He chokes back a wretch.

"Oh Pete!"

You pause the movie, leaning over and turning on the lamp on the table next to the arm of the couch. Peter's discomfort is much more clear to you now as he leaned over, holding his stomach.

"Peter, why didn't you tell me you disliked horror films??"

"Why didn't you tell me you liked them?" He takes a deep breath, leaning over and laying his head on your chest.

You play with his hair, reclining back until you position your head on a pillow, his nausea slowly disappearing with each steady, calm thrum of your heart in your chest next to his ear.

"Silly man, I thought we were having a scary movie night." You tease softly, kissing his hair, subtle notes of his shampoo and Old Spice. The familiar scent of your boyfriend you've come to know and love.

"I was expecting Beetlejuice scary at most..." Peter scoffs, looking up at you, flashing you those most adoring, chocolate brown eyes. Sweeter than any Halloween candy on the shelves.

"Baby." You sniff air through your nose, shaking your head. "I love all that horror shit, but you should have told me." You smile, the feeling of his blunt stubble tickling the palm of your hand, his gaze liquifying as you caressed his face with your caring touch.

"We can watch something silly so you can fall asleep."

"Mm..." Peter's eyes close. If he was a cat, he would be purring. You smile, continuing to tangle your hands softly in his messy hair. He was so damn handsome, and you just wanted this Halloween movie night to end on a good note for you both. "Thanks, sweetheart." He sighs deeply.

He turns his chin, his hands finding purchase underneath your sweater, the heat from his bare palms cascading all up and down your body as he silently watched some 90s reruns with you, eyelids weighing heavier and heavier as the late hour dragged past midnight.

"Stay with me tonight?" He asks softly, some time later, sitting up and leaning over you so his body is pressing directly into yours, groaning, and your lips parting slightly as you took in the sight of him on top of you. A bit of that suppressed tension that was bottled up from earlier was fighting to be released at last.

"I don't wanna impose, Pete..."

The ending of your sentence fades into a muffled moan of surrender when he starts leaving slow, tantalizing kisses in a coaxing row on your jaw.

"You can sleep in my bed..." He whispers. "We don't need to do anything you're not comfortable with, baby..."

He kisses you gently, at long last. "Just stay with me, sweetheart. I don't want you going home alone this late..."

You gaze up at him, a sea of putty underneath him.

"Please?" He wiggles his brow in that adorably goofy manner that had you biting your lip.

"Okay, Peter."

You smile, your eyes screwing shut once again when his lips connected promptly with yours, sweeping you up into his awaiting arms, tucking you into one of his hoodies and pajama pants before he fell asleep with you cuddled in his arms.

Nightmares kept at bay thanks to your loving presence. Halloween couple's movie night a spookily romantic success.

[mhevarujta]

I'm genuinely sorry for fans of Azriel who like him less in the bonus chapter and take Rhys' distortion of his feelings to be canon.

Like, we as readers are meant to know better. Azriel does not see himself as a good person. More than that he sees himself as tainted. Finally pursuing someone that he like to the extend he does Elain, even if it's just for once, a surrender in the moment, is a threshold for his character. He even feels watched only by the Mother. He feels benevolence in having that moment.

And there comes Rhys, not only hindering, but equating the situation to the meaningless sex Azriel has had and speaking of entitlement, which can be misinterpreted into but is not inherent in Azriel's words. Because Azriel questioning whether the cauldron was wrong was not about being entitled. It was about having the depth of emotions that makes him question whether this woman should be his mate, since to the fae, and especially to males this is the strongest bond they can have. This was never about what Azriel feels he deserves, each shimply about the strength of what he feels.

In fact, it's insensitive of Rhys to make this about being 'worthy' when he's speaking to a friend as insecure as Azriel, who COULD say his opinion about Lucien (I love Lucien by the way and not shipping him with Elain for me is not about him being unworthy, but I understand why someone who sees him antangonistically and doesn't really know him would want to think that). He could not say that HE himself is worthy of her though, because he doesn't believe it, and the LAST thing he needed was his worthiness to be questioned by one of his best friends. Certain readers entertaining that Rhys' words are the bible and should be taken at face-value, instead of just the means to instigate romantic and political conflict for the next book, are wrond and are seriously missing out on Azriel's character.

[f1orza]

Austrian GP thoughts, sorry if I'm not very articulate 🤓 just rambled really not proofread cause I'm busy

Do I think the collison was Max's fault? Yes. Do I think that the contact was inevitable and BOTH of their faults? Also yes.

Max shouldn't have moved during the breaking but they were both driving aggressive. They both wanted to be first, they both know what's it's like to be first and they won't settle for second now. I think in Lando's case he seen that if he wants to be first he has to try harder? Or that you actually have to be "agressive" to get onto that top step.

Do I think Lando was being childish? Yes. And I'm saying this as a McLaren fan.

Though I also think that any sport where you're fighting for first is inherently a bit childish. Might just be because I have siblings and we always used to fight over first place as kids 🤷🏽‍♀️idk

That doesn't justify Lando's response. Even when you're upset and running on adrenaline, you should be able to be handle your emotions I think. (I know as humans it can be hard) but if you're on live tv being broadcasted to millions of people...you should have a better handle on you're emotions; even if you feel you've been wronged, because no one will listen to you if you are acting like that. If you're levelheaded about it people are more likely to listen,(woman experience this all the time.) He needs to work on that and on taking responsibility as well, because the blame isn't 100% on Max.

That's one thing I can say about Max, I wasn't here for the "Mad Max" era but from videos and word of mouth, I can tell he's matured a lot and you can definitely see it. Max had every reason to be upset after this race (but not really), he had a good lead against Lando until RB's slow pit stop and then he went from first to fifth and some might say that's not bad, he still got points, and etc. That's not the point - his race was still affected but he did not go on live tv and speak badly on his friend.

They need to - like Max said - cool down and speak about it afterwards. I personally don't think it is worth ending a friendship with someone I considered a good friend but maybe they see it differently idk. It's something they need to talk about before the next race. And if they believe that it was worth losing a friend over, especially when they know this is situations that happen in racing then....

And I've seen a lot of people mentioning Lando still wouldn't have been first, even with the 5 sec penalty, he would'v been second with George being over 10 secs behind, I can understand why he believed Max ruined his race.

Some of y'all have a very bad habit of taking things fans do out on the drivers. If the FANS keep voting him DOTD that has nothing to do with him, if you want others to win then yall might need to vote more ig 🤷🏽‍♀️ and the chanting on the podium is again rude and nasty behavior but that again has nothing to do with Lando, I can promise you even if he would speak out it will not change anything, people will do what they want and what they feel they are entitled to do. I've seen it happen in so many fandom spaces, some people just don't care. Lewis has told people not to hate George after last race and I can guarantee that there is still people that do.

Now I've also seen people talking about Lando's attitude, I agree on some things and disagree on others. And this isn't me being a "Lando crazy fangirl" trying to justify his actions but I'm just telling it how I see it. So if you disagree okay, but do not start shit with me okay? 🙃 cause I know y'all like to fight around here 🤥

I think Lando feels stuck in that wasted potential. Where people having saying for years you have the potential to be a champion and even with all the hardwork you do, it doesn't feel like it's being shown. And especially as someone who went so long without a first win. Everyone's saying McLaren made a mistake by re-signing you or that your teammate is more deserving of the first seat. You feel like you're letting people down: you're team, family, fans and yourself. Not to mention all the hate you've been getting for NOT winning, then you'll definitely be in a bad headspace. And now that's he's won and KNOWS he can win, he'll want it all the more. He has the fastest car on the grid right now, he IS a good driver (contrary to what some of you believe), and he is a bit more optimistic than last year. Now that first is within his grasp, he's been hungry to get a second one. And I think he's been a bit overconfident about it, but that's honestly all drivers, I think if you are upset about Lando's ego but not other like Ocon than you dislike Lando for other reasons and are just finding excuses now. Even more so knowing he is second in the championship standings. Now that you know you're capable of being first you wouldn't want to settle for second, just like Max. Max constantly talks about not being there for second place but many of the other drivers feel that way, Lando is clearly one of them.

Do I think Max should have just let him go by? no. Because this IS racing and if you want to be first and become a champion you have to work for it. Max has never been the kind of guy to just let you pass him, not even for a friend. So Lando needs to understand that if he wants to keep fighting Max in the future. If you want to prove everyone right or wrong, only YOU can do that and by being overly eager and dangerous, well it clearly doesn't work in your favor 😭 (sorry lando 🤧). Only thing is you do is improve yourself and I'm not surprised that Max is a champion when he is always driving be it racing or sim. If your competitor's are doing a 100% you need to be doing 200%, that's the only way to get to the top.