#...a normal family like everybody else has.

[kkoct-ik]

i can def relate to having an abusive mother, the worst part is that people always assume mothers to be good people. thankfully my dad and mother don't live together so i chose to stay with my dad permanently but my dad's girlfriend is constantly talking about how i should make up with my mother because "you only get one mom" and she completely ignores me when i try to talk about how abusive my mother was

yeah. ugh. sorry about your situation anon. it sucks and im sending sympathies

#ask #i just dunno what to do with myself #as if complex trauma isnt enough im now dealing with a lot of complicated situations regarding what to do now #i dont live there anymore. but my siblings do. hi guys i have 4 younger siblings #and me as much as everybody else just wishes there was a nice family to help us develop stable and normal #so im doing my damn best. im trying to stay in contact with the kids. im hoping they have a better support system than i did #but family policy means the teens get no texting privacy no internet time. so as if i can fucking stay in touch and look out for them anywa #i dont think i can do anything. it feels inevitable that every kid is gonna get completely fractured like me #and the only other alternative risks making it worse and uncomfortable when its none of my business anymore #(taking up my therapist on calling cps. lol) #i cant talk about it with my siblings (no real access to them) and it makes me insane #i cant talk to my dad because he has enough shit and i dont want to drive the family to pieces #i cant talk to my mum because she has a habit of abusing the kids and then telling them its because *I* made her mad; blame me #what am i meant to do #as if the past isnt a lot to process right now. im also dealing with the present that this is probably ongoing and theres fuck all i can do #sorry for venting. im in hell. im trying to be normal and failing spectacularly #abuse #domestic abuse #for cw #i wish i didnt have to worry. i wish this was never a problem in the first place

[qualityrain]

I like to think that owl is one of those people who like sending random memes to ana while ana has no idea what they mean cuz of child soldier training, owl would explain in detail about each and every one of them. Surprisingly, ana never got bored of it.

Also, Idt owl had any friends outside of his sister before he met ana. I mean, just look at him.

YOURE SO RIGHT

The untapped comedic potential of owl being like the only guy who knows the real world and not confined to just valkyrie school and honkai which means he knows MEMES. and how i think vine was popular in 2015(idk it still exists to me!!!!) so imagine explaining why road work ahead yeah i sure hope it does is funny. ok unrelated but i think he would use those shortform words too cos iirc in the enemy archives right in cn he says 1 and its translated into ok in english and i was trying to find out what it means because i do not know any chinese slang and i still dont know what it means and i fell into a rabbit hole of like cn number slang or smth like idk 995 is like help me because it sounds like 救救我 ANYWAY yeah owl also explains shortform words in detail 👍 if only he was still alive lmfao the slang nowadays r crazy what is idgafpilled in an okokokokcoded economy he wouldve been so insufferable

i actually think owl had friends LMFAO. I think hes naturally quiet but a good talker and its advantages to know people i think he doesn’t actively reach out to people but doesnt mind being talked too and probably gets included into groups also cos hes funny. hes not a popular kid he has a normal amount of popularity where hes not peoples first choice in a group but maybe like 6th choice yk. idt he was particularly close with anybody tho.

#none of this makes sense because its 12am and im gojng crazy #i call owl funny and by rhat i mean he says stupid shit kike why woukd u bring up zombies iN A LIFE OR DEATH SITUATION #i say friends in the context of like. school. because idk anywhere else man #idk how to say like owl does vibe like a pathetic wet animal that doesnt have friends #esp how he is w ws #but like i think. like to me. owls just like. a random guy. any guy on the street. #like he has friends a normal amount yk i think ana woukd be his like only close friend tho #like to me the way he acts in ws is like. everybody is literally dead his family his friends everybody in the community #like everybody he ever cared about like a little superficial amount is very dead #like hes very much alone i think he just doesnt care anymore #ok all rhis is subject ro change in mt head if i rhink abt it more when im sane and normal #but the “you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me” line? Yeah idk #shaking my head to fit that line to make sense to my brain #like idk i ignore like 60% of canon lore because i do not get love at first sight #idk its so 8:)/&!;&/!:&28: UH #i think its because he had to do everything himself depend on himself for other ppl when somebody does smth big for him hes like #Wow! Coolbeans! #bro ive been thinking abt rhis in my gp paper and its like mental block idk shit man #asks #putting a keep reading here because rhis is cringe and im Ashamed TM

[inkskinned]

running yourself into the ground because it "feels good" but actually because it secretly feels bad like a cheese grater against all the soft bits of your mind and running yourself into the ground specifically because it feels very bad and right now the roadrash will give some kind of visual effect to the rest of the experience of your suffering and running yourself into the ground because you were raised religious and/or with strict parents and now you feel like you need an excuse any time you burn out or else it's not burnout it's laziness and running yourself into the ground so you can be really sure it's actually depression and not just because you ate something suspicious

and running yourself into the ground because the back of your throat tastes like rotted fish and yet everybody wants you to get up and make a pretty dance about it and running yourself into the ground like a matchstick because if you're going to have to be here you want to blaze about it and running yourself into the ground like a darkened landing strip so the plane wheels spark up and your hometown finally disappears in the distance good fucking riddance

and running yourself into the ground because of some fucked up great-great-grandparent's hard work aesthetic and because you somehow owe it to your parents, who owed it to their own parents, because owing things is normal in your family, like love is a cost-value analysis and running yourself into the ground and getting up and pretending that, like, this isn't burning the candle at both ends. two days is plenty to get back into it.

you're not spiraling, you're just manifesting wealth and happiness. you're not spiraling, the radio in your chest just has low batteries. what do you mean that's the sound of distress. when they went out looking, they never found your pilot. you haven't been in this body for years now. you found yourself and put her into a box and then put her up on a shelf. she's still safe up there and she's still a kid.

running yourself into the ground and the constant knowledge: you don't even know where you're going and you don't like the experience. but where ever it is: you're not there yet.

#writeblr #warm up #after that which is resembles a grave but isn't

[catsvrsdogscatswin]

Underutilized bit in LOTR, I feel, is how deeply out of his depth Boromir is within the Fellowship.

And by that I don't mean that he's the weakest or the stupidest or any of that, but rather that –against all appearances– he is the sole member of the Fellowship who is a Regular Normal Human, and he would have such a shocker slowly figuring all that out over the course of their journey. I mean:

Age. Legolas and Gimli wouldn't surprise him, since the lifespan of elves and dwarves seems commonly known to be way longer than humans, but Gandalf? The hobbits? None of these ages work as advertised and when he goes down to sit and commiserate with Aragorn about being the only Men in the company and how weird this all must be for them both Aragorn has to cough into his fist and mutter "Eighty-seven." "WHAT?!" (Yes, I know that Gondor keeps records of their Númenórean ancestors and said ancestors' extended lifespans, but consider this: the blood has thinned so much in Gondor that practically nobody lives longer than regular humans nowadays, and Boromir is canonically the jock in a family of scholars. He had to look up what/where Rivendell was after he got Faramir's Prophecy Dream, for god's sake.)

Bilbo. The entire Fellowship except Boromir has a personal relationship with Bilbo, and Boromir has neither seen nor heard of this creature in his life. Everyone else is starting off this quest with significant background knowledge of Bilbo's life and The Hobbit, whether having been told by Bilbo himself or having had family members personally involved at the time it occurred, and Boromir, again, has no clue what they're all on about.

Moria. Dwarves presumably have some built-in sensory adaptions for living underground, elf eye physics are bullshit, hobbits are stated to be far more comfortable/better navigating underground than most races, Gandalf is an Istar, and Aragorn has been hunting and tracking in various ungodly locations for most of his eighty-seven years. This means that, once again, Boromir is the only Normal Person trying to Normally Navigate a mostly-pitch-black cave system while everyone else side-eyes him for bumping into walls all the time.

Elves can sleep with their eyes open. This is admittedly not the most common thing among the Fellowship, but please imagine Boromir, still struggling to understand the fact that he's surrounded by nonhuman beings who have no shared concept of the passing of time, rolling over at 2AM to see Legolas bluescreening contentedly up at the sky, and then everyone acts like he's the weird one when he starts freaking out about it because all of them are used to traveling with/know more about elves than he does.

Even just remembering stuff off the top of my head, Boromir must have had such a weird time adjusting to being the only normal human being among the Fellowship before he, y'know. Died.

(Plus I can totally imagine Merry and Pippin giving him shit for "Well, if you're the only normal one amongst nearly a dozen people, then that's not very 'normal', is it? Maybe Men are the odd ones out and everybody else is normal.")

#LOTR #lord of the rings #Boromir

[kami-kun1003]

Silver’s narcolepsy is so… interesting to me

everyone always talks about it like it’s a silly joke. like “ha ha sleepy boy!!!” which is. fine. but from what we see in the game, it’s undoubtedly a serious physical disability. it literally causes him to fall asleep randomly throughout the day and there’s no way he can fight it. that’s genuinely scary and a cause for concern. what if he fell asleep next to a lake and drowned or something??

i can’t help but think about how much it must affect him mentally. imagine you’re the only human in a fae family, and your whole life you believed that you would be the first to die, and you need to make the most out of the short time you have to repay your loved ones for raising you.

and the universe decides to give you a sleep disorder that completely hindrances your ability to do so. you doze off CONSTANTLY, wasting hours upon hours of precious time that you could’ve used for something more useful.

you can’t control it. once you feel that drowsiness, it’s over. nothing helps; you just can’t stay awake regardless of what you try. no one knows what’s wrong with you so you just assume that it’s your own fault for being so lazy. your father’s done everything he can, bless his kind heart, but even he can’t find a solution.

nobody understands what you’re going through, they all say it’s normal to feel bored or tired from schoolwork every now and then. which isn’t how you feel at all, but you just don’t have the words to describe it.

it gets to the point where you’re failing your classes because your body simply refuses to function the way it’s supposed to. your teachers blame you and they’re right, it’s your fault it’s all your fault isn’t it?

your peers make fun of or look down on you for being unusual. for always falling asleep. for not expressing emotion (doesn’t anyone else find it hard?). you feel ashamed. you try to fix it but you can’t. nothing can ever be fixed.

it’s frustrating to be unable to control your own body. you’ve grown used to it, and so has everybody else, although that doesn’t make it any less of a problem. but at this point it feels like there’s no other choice but to just live with it.

and in the end, you feel guilty. your father has given you everything, and yet you can’t give back. does that not make you a failure? a disappointment of a son? here you are, living, breathing, thinking, and you can’t even do anything to thank the person who gave you the luxury of existence.

wouldn’t you hate sleep? wouldn’t you utterly despise that feeling of drowsiness that overtakes your mind when you so much as stay still for a single minute? would you not cherish the moments in which lethargy did not plague you?

oh, how you wish there was a cure.

(tagging: @fruixtii )

#these are just my personal thoughts so pls be nice if u disagree— #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst silver #lilia vanrouge #diasomnia #malleus draconia #sebek zigvolt #twst headcanons #twst analysis #twst angst #narcolepsy

[knightsickness]

saltburn thoughts full spoilers

felix pretending that he doesn’t realise the house is remarkable during the tour, part of the showing off is how casual it is - telling elsbeth to be normal about ollie even as felix also definitely does not treat him like an equal

my poor pitiable friend i get to dress and tote around and show the good life and he’ll be so so pathetically grateful it reminds me how great i am how great my life is. this is not conscious on felix’s part felix doesn’t really think

generous and magnanimous, most sympathetic lens taken advantage of but also amusing himself with a charity case. let me reconnect you with your addict mother ollie that’s a scene i should be there for

his and farleigh’s relationship started as this, and soured when farleigh stopped being happy with table scraps, or being a pity-pet - prouder than ollie, less willing to debase himself

felix has had other toys like this, symbiotic playing between him and venetia - he brings them home, doesn’t tell them not to fuck her, and she immediately tries to (paraphrasing but ‘venetia’s been draping herself everywhere hoping you’ll stumble on her’) knowing that he will entirely break off the friendship in disgust at how disrespectful it was to fuck his sister. this in the context of the strange sexualsocial play where felix his sister and his cousin all hang out naked in a field enough it’s an expectation for guests it seems reasonable ollie thought there were fewer sexual boundaries

nobody pays attention to venetia, her addiction and eating disorder are treated as mildly embarrassing but her parents won’t talk to her about it bc it would mean acknowledging there was a problem (seen in later can’t accept felix’s death trying to wake him up and get him warm even though farleigh and venetia clearly already see he’s dead, or not telling the police about farleigh having cocaine) and her hypersexuality and instigating are an arm of that

felix and ollie inherently unequal relationship, king and his favourite - unlike pamela, who appears interesting but fails to captivate them, ollie dedicates an immense amount of effort to keeping felix’s attention, to staying amusing and necessary

bathtub scene both prostrating himself to felix part of the eating him theme and a sexual violation echoed at his grave

party costumes - felix is an angel clearly supposed to evoke luhrman’s juliet (complete with death by poison) both his innocence and his imminent death. otherworldly almost dionysian figure he isn’t a touchable human guy he’s a god everyone appeases because he’s perfect. interesting that they don’t really show his body he’s just wings everybody else’s anguish is centred. not a move to demystify him they could have shown his corpse they could have shown him next to the vomit they don’t we never properly see the body

farleigh is bottom but removes the head to taunt ollie. foolish guy turned into an ass dealing with powers he doesn’t understand possible foreshadowing him as the guy ollie frames for giving felix coke (mule pun?)

sidebar love the scene where ollie tries to manipulate him and misunderstands his motivations farleigh’s such a bitter interesting guy and he was right about everything MY final girl

framed as in the wrong bc he’s contrasted to perfect felix, arguing w him, but is in the right - felix calls him more spoiled than they are, and he is spoiled, but gilded cage nowhere else to go and his parents don’t get anything felix is not reliable. he’s right to point out felix likes ollie more because he’s a less complicated easier to pity pet he’s right that ollie is fake and he’s right that the family don’t see the servants as people besides their charming butler (both clearly beneath them a kind of loyal dog and a class marker they enjoy having. complain he’s creepy but like can you imagine being wealthy enough to not only inherit a butler but to not like having a butler to find him annoying) and is hyperaware outside of the main family unit everyone else staying at saltburn is closer to servant status paid and fed to jester

ollie’s antlers clearly supposed to position him as the devil to felix’s angel but slightly obfuscated by also making him a deer - part of his pathological lying layers of deception, or idea of the pop-wendigo as cannibal as part of his i’m a vampire/you ate him up and licked the fucking plate relationship w the family

teddybear on felix’s coffin both superficially heartwrenching and on any second thought completely hollow - as if he was a little boy, and in a way he was, but it’s a strange gesture as if his parents were burying a much younger child. they don’t know he was poisoned they think he died of an overdose mixing cocaine and alcohol while hooking up with a girl

ollie fucking felix’s grave-dirt as an explicit parallel to ollie scraping on the ground to lick his cum out of a drain - the most touchable felix has ever been is as a body, in the ground, where ollie can cum into the dirt on top of him and it will be there forever. death as an equaliser final end to their king-favourite power differential

didn’t hate the ending but do think he should have only killed felix i think every subsequent death lessened the vicious hatelove obsession of felix’s death which removed the gloss from the house and makes all its ridiculous out of touch evil dreamworld inhabitants small and desperate their golden boy eldest is gone. tragic ridiculousness of putting the name felix river catton on a headstone

ideal ending to me still a subversion of farleigh’s cruel ‘this is the best thing to ever happen to you and when it’s over you’ll think about it forever but this is our life we’ll stay here we LIVE in saltburn’ (he’s more part of the family than anyone else but he’s still exilable - even he knows it isn’t really a we situation) in which ollie does leave and he leaves them all miserable in saltburn forever living with felix all over the walls a hundred portraits of him all clinging onto that last summer. he can forget but they live in saltburn

#saltburn #saltburn spoilers #oliver quick #felix catton #venetia catton #farleigh start

[sheeple]

Heirs of Hogwarts | part 3

Genre(s): Nuisance to Lovers / Fake dating / Fluff / No Voldy au Fandom(s): Harry Potter Pairing(s): Mattheo Riddle x Hufflepuff!Reader Summary: After finding out your (now ex)boyfriend cheated on you with the girl he told you not to worry about, you decide to get into a fake relationship with the kid of another founder of Hogwarts. What could go wrong? Warning(s): Matt's thirsty (but so are you also lowkey) / Awkward family moments / Visuals (Don't like them? Don't use them🤷🏻‍♀️) / I suck at writing kiss scenes (yes it's happening) / it's spicy but not full on smut (smut adjacent) A/n: For now this is the end of the mini-series. Thank you all for enjoying my story and see you all in the next one! [Masterlist] [part 1] [part 2]

Normally you would love to be proven right. Revel in the knowledge that they should have listened to you. But now? Fuck being right. You don't want to right. 

You've been carrying the letter with you for a couple of days and the weight of it makes your schoolbag makes it feel like it's filled with bricks. The letter is weighing you down, and everybody around you seems to notice it. Especially Mattheo. You still hang out with him, of course, but every time the words are on the tip of your tongue, you chicken out.

"Have you told him yet?", asks Susan as she sees you reading the letter again during lunch.

Giving her a frowned look, you shake your head. How in Merlin's name can you inform him that 'hey, my parents want to meet you because Meemaw saw us sneak into my dorm. Now they think we are together and having sex and want to meet the hypothetical father of my hypothetical baby if we were actually having hypothetical sex and not being careful. All hypothetically of course. Why else would I sneak a boy into my dorm?' 

Not casually at least. 

You look over towards his table and meet his eyes. He motions with his head towards the door. You nod with a small smile and finish your juice. "See you in class."

"Have fun with your boyfriend!", she calls after you and you flip her off. 

"What was all that about?", asks Mattheo with a small smile while the two of you walk side by side towards Herbology. 

You shrug, scratching the nailbed of your thumb. You feel a sharp pain but you continue. You know now more than ever that this is the time. "I've... I've received a letter. From my parents." You fish the letter out of your bag and hold it out for him.

Mattheo stops and looks unsurely towards the folded-up paper. When you give him a nod he unfolds the letter. You watch nervously how his eyes scan over the words.

When he stays silent, you begin to panic. "We- you don't have to! I can totally write my parents back and tell them... something! That we broke up or whatever."

"You've got nieces?" He's got a soft smile on his face as he traces the embellishments of the letter. Of course, the stationery of House Hufflepuff has its letters decorated to match the vibe of the family name.

With a shake of your head, you run a hand over your hair. "Out of everything... the thing you focus on is my nieces? Not that fact that my parents want to meet you?"

Mattheo shrugs, handing you the letter back. "Yeah, so what? That's what boyfriends do, don't they? Meet their girlfriend's parents. Fake relationship or not. Wasn't it your parents you wanted to fool?"

That shuts you up and a flaring heat spreads over your face and neck, even towards the points of your ears. "I-I yeah... But I never imagined them doing this! Then I would have never done all this to you!" With a guilty look, you slowly reach for one of his hands. You rub slow circles over the back of his hand.

Mattheo's brain short circuits as his eyes focus on your hand and his. How soft the pad of your thumb feels against his skin. He wonders if your hands feel as soft on different parts of his body. Or how sharp your nails feel when you scratch his back.

He snaps out of it and shakes his head. Taking his chance, he turns his hand around and laces his fingers with yours. "So... how do I leave a good impression on your parents?"

You think for a moment, looking away. "As superficial as it sounds, they put great value in looking a certain way." In that way they're just like other pure-blood families, you want to add but don't. You don't want to offend him or his family.

With a determent nod, Mattheo starts walking the opposite way you were going, pulling you behind him.

"Where are you taking me? Divination is that way", you point over your shoulder as you catch up to him.

Mattheo gives you a daring smile, his eyes wrinkling playfully. "My dorm. I need your advice on what to wear."

You protest and sputter about your attendance all the way towards the Slytherin dungeons. A snake made of metal rises from the ground and reveals a set of double doors. "Pure-Blood", says Mattheo and the doors swing open. You give him a look and he shrugs. "It's the password. Nothing I can do about it."

"I said nothing!", you laugh, being pulled through the entrance

The common area looks like it's carved out of rock, with marble pillars and arches. Large windows give you a look into the endless depth of the Black Lake, fish swimming by. It takes your breath away how stunning the Slytherin common room looks. It's oh so different from your own, but just as beautiful.

You try to ignore the stares you get from the Slytherin's around the room. You do stand out like a sore thumb with your sunshine yellow robes.

"Don't you ever need to pee very much when you are in the common area?", you ask, motioning towards the waterfall you circle as you enter the common room and the many water features around.

Mattheo rolls his eyes with a smile as he leads you down a corridor and holds open the door for you to enter his dorm. Four four-poster beds with green drapes are arranged in a circle with a heater in the middle of the room, spreading warmth around the room. He motions for you to sit on his bed while he rummages through his closet.

You lean back on your hands as you watch him pull one after the other crumbled-up shirt and pants out of the closet. He sends you a slightly embarrassed look and you hop off his bed.

"Let me have a look", you say softly, pushing him to the side.

"I'm sorry... It's a bit of a mess." He scratches the back of his neck as a slight blush colours his cheeks. 

You wave his worries away as you spot a nice pair of jeans and a not-too-crumpled black shirt. It could totally work paired with a dark green jacket. You lay out the pieces on his bed and look proudly between the outfit and Mattheo. It's something you're parents would approve of while still being himself

"If you wear this with the shirt tucked in and your hair just styled like you always do, everything will be okay." You turn towards him with a smile. 

While you were arranging the clothes, Mattheo snuck closer to you. He now stands so close to you, that you can smell his cologne. Your lips part as you look up at him. "Matt?", you whisper as he slowly cradles your face with both of his hands.

His eyes flicker from your eyes towards your mouth. Your eyes flutter closed as you feel soft puffs of breath on your face.

Mere millimetres before his lips touch yours, the door swings open and the two of you jump away from each other. "God fucking damn it", you hear him grumble under his breath as Enzo and Draco stand in the doorway.

The two boys look at you with wide eyes before Draco's expression morphs into something more teasing. "I hope we didn't interrupt anything", he says slyly, sending a smirk towards Mattheo. Who gives the blond a scalding glare.

Feeling way too awkward about the situation, you quickly gather your things. "I-I have to go. I wouldn't want to be late for my next class." Giving Mattheo a shy smile, you rush out of his dorm and the Slytherin common room — almost stumbling down and then up the stairs. 

Once you deem yourself far away enough, you slump against a wall and cup your scorching hot cheeks. Your heart beats wildly in your chest... and somewhere else. Did that really just happen? Or almost? In Merlin's name, when did you get so hot and bothered about Mattheo Riddle? Not long ago he was a nuisance to you. And now? Now you've almost kissed two times and he's meeting your parents this weekend.

When you close your eyes you still see Mattheo's warm honey ones, looking at you with such softness and want- no need. 

Gods.

Shaking your head, you steady yourself and with slightly unsteady legs you walk towards Arithmancy.

Meanwhile, back in the boy's dorm, Mattheo collapses onto his bed and curses out his friends. "Fucking twats!" He presses the balls of his hands into his eyes, frustration running rampant through his body. 

This was the second time someone interrupted him trying to kiss you. Just when he has gathered the courage to do so. First your friends and now his own. Who out there has it so out for him to cockblock him two times.

Draco and Enzo just look with high amusement towards their frustrated-to-no-end friend. They're gonna take this moment and tease him forever with it.

You don't get a chance to talk to Mattheo about the kiss. To talk to him in general. Because every time the two of you spot each other, either his or your friends wisk you away and it's driving you mad. It's like they planned it together or something.

It makes you all sulky because you want to discuss what happened between the two of you multiple times. You want answers — which you are lowkey scared of. But it's better to rip the bandage off quickly and get your heart broken than live with questions and never get an answer.

You walk into the Great Hall that Saturday, your fingers anxiously clawing at the nailbeds. But you've taken precautions and bandaged up your thumbs so you can't scratch. The pain stays but there's no blood.

"Don't you look all lovely", smiles Hanah brightly, making you twirl. 

You smile and show her a cheeky leg as the split in your skirt falls perfectly when you sit. "Well...", you let out a nervous sigh, "Matt's meeting my parents today. So, we have to look the part, don't we?"

Your friends' eyes bulge out at the nickname you gave Slytherin bad boy Mattheo Riddle. Nobody ever dared to call him anything other than his name. 

"Is that why he was not-so-subtly sneaking glances at us before you came?", wonders Susan out loud, which makes you tense up.

Looking at the Slytherin table, you find Mattheo easily. He gives a small wave with a smile and you return the gestures. "I'm going to sit over there. I have to prepare him from the wolves."

Slowly, you rise from your table and walk to the other side of the Great Hall. You feel the eyes of the Hufflepuff's and Slytherin's on you. But the only important ones are Mattheo's liquid honey ones, who look at you in wonder.

"Hi", you whisper when you finally reach him.

"Hi", he whispers back, a wide smile on his face.

"Can I sit with you?"

Without hesitation, he nods and slides to the side, almost shoving Enzo into Blaise's lap. He pats the now-empty spot next to him and you swing your leg over the bench. Mattheo zero's in on your bare leg and his brain shortcircuits.

You try to ignore the weird looks the Slytherin's present are giving you as you reach over and grab a piece of toast. You meet Hannah and Susan's eyes from across the room and they give you enthusiastic thumbs-up.

Swallowing your bite, you turn towards the boy next to you to say something. But your words die on your tongue at the look Mattheo gives you. It's unreadable. But not bad unreadable. There is some fondness in there you believe. "I have to warn you, by the way."

He cocks his head to the side, an easy smile on his face. "For your parents?"

A snort escapes you and you shake your head. "No- well... maybe my dad will grill you. But my brothers are way worse. They will either try to embarrass me or you."

"How many do you have?"

"Brothers? Four. There's a twin pair in there too. They are the second youngest after me."

Mattheo pales slightly. Four brothers? He found Thomas already trouble enough. But Four? He knows he's in for some shit.

You can't help but laugh as he visibly pales. Taking his hand, you pat it. You look around the Slyherin's. They all look very amused at Mattheo's despair.

The two of you finish your breakfast before it's time to go. Your parents expect you for lunch but knowing your family, there's not going to be time during just lunch. 

"How are we getting to your home?", questions Mattheo as you both walk through the halls towards Professor Sproud's office. 

You knock on the door and when there's no answer, you enter the room. "Via portkey. Which should arrive any second now." And like you said, a little yellow cup appears on the desk. 

Placing a hand on the cup, you hold the other out for him to take. Mattheo does so and the two of you are whisked away from the castle.

You stumble for a second before you find your footing. Taking a deep breath, your senses fill with the floral aroma of your home. It feels good to be back.

"Holy fucking shit", you hear Mattheo whisper under his breath as he looks at the estate your family owns. It looks centuries old, with ivy covering most of the outer walls. A sprawling garden buzzes with bees and butterflies. A fountain is heard somewhere in the back.

You feel slightly embarrassed at Mattheo's slack jaw. This is mostly the reason why you never told about or took anyone home. The house mansion has been in your family's name for centuries. It's said that Meemaw bought it, but there's no proof of it.

"Come on." You tug him by his hand towards the front door. Mattheo's too caught up by the exterior of the house that he bumps into you when you stop in front of the front door. "Ready?", you ask, and he shakes his head.

As you ring the bell, Mattheo looks at the inscribing above the door. "Dum spiro spero, vi et animo. What does that mean?"

"As long as I breathe I hope, with strength and courage", says your father as he opens the door with a wide smile. "It's our family's motto. Nice to meet you, son." He holds out his hand for Mattheo to shake.

As he pulls the boy inside, you try your bestest to not cringe. "Dad this is Mattheo. My boyfriend." You shyly glance towards Mattheo to gauge his reaction. A slight blush paints his cheeks and you bite your lip hiding your smile.

Your dad shakes the dark-haired boy's hand enthusiastically. He starts to ramble off about the family motto and what it means and it morphs into an in-depth history lesson about the house. How the tiles and pillars in the foyer are at least four hundred years old and how they're kept in such fine condition by magic.

"Dad!", you call out, not having missed the hidden panicked looks Mattheo has given you, trying his best to look interested. "Don't you think it's a little early for Staghill History 101? Let the boy breathe."

Your father lets go of Mattheo with a jolly laugh, his moustache curling upwards. "You are right. I am so sorry, good chap. Why don't you two go to the library while I round up the twins? They're all very excited to meet him."

Tugging on Mattheo's hand, you nod. "Sure. Make sure they clean off any dirt before Mum has an aneurysm. Again."

As you lead him towards the south wing, you stop just outside of the library. "Are you okay? I'm sorry. My dad's a lot and he's just happy to see anyone and everyone. Could be Father Christmas with how jolly he is." You scratch the back of your neck awkwardly, looking away.

Mattheo laughs. "It's okay. He's... nice. Now I get where you get it from."

"What?", you question with a cock of your head.

Mattheo wets his bottom lip, his eyes focused on yours. "That twinkle in your eyes when you talk about something you're passionate about." He reaches out for your flaming hot cheeks, cupping them.

The doors to your right swing open and the two of you feel like little children caught with your hand in the cookie jar. Your oldest brother, Felix, raises one disapproving brow and the two of you quickly step away from each other.

"Is it them? Don't hog the door, you big oaf!" Behind Felix appears Herbert, immediately engulfing you in a big, bone-crushing hug. 

"They were snogging", says Felix, walking back towards the couch he always sits on when he visits home. His comment earns him a swat from his wife next to him.

"We were not!", you protest scandalised, wrestling out of Herbert's hold. "We were just... It's none of your business what we were doing!" You grab Mattheo's hand and walk into the library, towards your mother.

He scoffs under his breath, mumbling; "You made it everybody's business when you let Meemaw catch you." That earns him another swat from his wife and a stern look from your mother. 

"Mum", you say after giving her a hug, tugging Mattheo closer, "I would like you to meet Mattheo."

"It's very nice to meet you, ma'am." Mattheo puts on his most charming smile while holding out his hand. 

Your mother shakes her head and gives him one of her signature warm hugs. "None of that! Call me Clementine. Or Clemmy. Or Ma. You're practically family now!"

You blanch, shrinking into yourself. Dear Lord. Why does your mom need to be so much?

Felix snorts. "Is he to stay? What happened to that bloke from Christmas?"

Yours and Mattheo's eyes meet and you purse your lips. "I rather not speak about it..."

That gets their attention, both men leaning forward in their seats. "What did he do?"

"Nothing!" You grow irritated at their endless questions as your mom ushers the two of you towards a couch. Sitting closely together, Mattheo lays a hand on your knee. You don't know if it's to comfort you or to ground himself.

Herbert studies the two of you with his eyes narrowed. He purses his lips while leaning back into the chair. "He beat the ex up, didn't he?"

"Oh, my Gods! Can you not play detective about my life? Stop talking about my ex with my new boyfriend right next to me", you scowl, not wanting the two of them to flip out over something that you're way past.

At that, your mother claps in her hands. "That's right! Mattheo, why don't you tell me something about yourself? What house are you in for instance?"

Mattheo glances nervously towards you and you lay a hand over his own, giving him a reassuring squeeze. "I'm in Slytherin, ma'am. I hope that isn't an issue."

Your mom chortles and waves his concern away. "Oh please, we aren't that kind of family."

"Speaking of family", pipes Herbert from across the room, "Who's family you belong to?"

Both your mom and you sputter and scold Herbert. But the twins coming in gives your brother his answer.

 "Why on Meemaw's good name is Mattheo Riddle sitting next to our sister?", sneers Victor, Danny leering over his shoulder.

A groan escapes you while you slink down the couch, hiding your face in your hands. You had hoped that Mattheo's family wouldn't be a subject. The twins are the only ones from your family who have seen the kind of nuisance Mattheo has been to you before leaving school last year. Of course, it looks very fucking weird that he is now cosying up to you, his hand on your knee and claiming to be your boyfriend.

You feel everybody's eyes on the two of you. Mattheo shrinks down under the many gazes, his hold on you tightening in a silent plea to not abandon him right now.

Not knowing how to get away under the scrutiny, you glance at your mom. She looks shocked and when she meets your eyes, her gaze softens before turning stern. "Didn't I always tell you boys to not judge people? What can the poor boy do about which cradle he was born into? So get off your high horses and be nice to the boy!" She stands with her hands on her hips, berating your brothers.

"What did I miss?", asks your father, standing in the doorway with a tray filled with cookies and teacups, the teapot floating behind him.

"Nothing", smiles your mother, turning towards you, "I was just saying that Mattheo should have a tour of the house. Why don't you do that, honey?"

Getting what she's implying, you nod exuberantly. "Yeah, right! Let's go." 

Mattheo's all too happy to escape the tense room and quickly follows after you, walking with a big arch around the twins, who are still glaring at him.

"I am so sorry." You cast your eyes towards the floor as the two of you walk through one of the many art-lined hallways. "I- There is no excuse for how they treated you..."

Mattheo's hand on your waist makes you stop and look up at him, unsheathed tears dancing in your waterline. He tuts, wiping away the single one that has managed to escape. "Don't cry, pretty girl. It's a warranted reaction. I'm used to it by now. How awkward it was anyways."

You pout while leaning into his hand. "That's horrible Matt. You don't deserve to be treated like that because your father made a wrong choice!"

"It was more than a wrong choice, lovely. Besides, there's not a witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin, remember?" He laughs, but you see that there's sadness in his eyes.

With a shake of your head, you lean closer to him. "You aren't bad! Such a vile stereotype."

This time a genuine laugh bubbles out of Mattheo's chest. "Oh, sweet, sweet, Hufflepuff", he trances your cheek with the pads of his fingers, "there are many things that make me as bad as they say. Mostly for the thoughts I have about you."

Your brain short circuits and you blink up at him, processing his words. He has what? Heh?

Mattheo chuckles at your dumbfounded look. Oh, how cute you are when you are clueless. He clasps his hands behind his back and looks around. "Is there anything in particular you want me to see?", he asks, throwing you a bone.

That seems to snap you out of your daydream of what Mattheo could do to you and you shake your head. "Yes. There is one final person I have to introduce you to."

The two of you walk side by side as he studies both muggle and magical paintings. You lead him towards the main sitting with an empty frame with a chair hanging above the fireplace. Dragging an ottoman over, you motion for Mattheo to follow your lead and climb on top of the cushions.

"Meemaw", you call out towards the empty portrait, "I would like to meet someone."

It takes a second or two before your ancestor appears from the side, graciously draping herself and her skirts on the chair. "My littlest Badger! How are you, my dear?"

You lean closer, smiling. "Hello, Meemaw. I would like you to meet someone." You motion towards Mattheo, who looks with big eyes at her.

"Isn't that...?"

Heat spreads over your face and you bite your bottom lip. "I- yeah..."

"Mattheo Riddle, your ladyship." He bows slightly, earning a hearty laugh from her. 

"Aren't you a charmer? You musn't call me ladyship. Just Helga is fine. Or Meemaw, seeing as you are our littlest badger's love." She sends you a doting smile. "Say, if I may ask; aren't you one of Salazar's boys?"

"Yes. I hope that isn't an issue for you, Helga."

She waves his concerns away. It surprised you how easily Meemaw's taken by Mattheo. He's a naturally charming person when he wants to be after all.

"Oh, of course not, dear boy! Your great-grandfather and I had a... very special relationship of our own when we were younger. It warms my heart that our descendants have found each other." A fond look paints her face as she looks off in the distance. 

As a melancholy glimmer befalls her, you take that as your cue to leave. "I have to continue my tour of the house, Meemaw. See you later."

Waving her off, you hop off the ottoman and put it back in the right place before exiting the sitting room. A sigh escapes your lips and you swing your arms back and forth. Mattheo gives you a raised brow before taking your hand in his and continuing the swinging.

It's nice. The two of you just walking and talking about nothing special in particular. You sometimes point out some facts about you growing up around the house. "In that room, we always used to build pillow forts in." Or "I once ran against that door and lost both my front teeth. They were loose anyways", you add quickly at his concerned look.

Everything's so easy with Mattheo that it scares you. How are you supposed to go back to strangers after your arrangement has come to an end? Can you even go back to strangers? Even if Mattheo doesn't feel the same, you wish you at least could stay friends. Because he's genuinely a nice person to hang out with. It would sadden you to lose him.

The ring of a bell plucks you from your thoughts and you turn towards where the sound came from. "Oh! Dinner's ready." You lead the both of you towards the dining room, taking shortcuts and hidden doors. Mattheo chuckles as you press open another hidden panel before finally arriving in said room.

Out of habit, you go to sit at your usual place at the table and Mattheo follows you. But as he pulls the chair back, Danny is quick to sit in it. After sending a glare at your brother, you look apologetic towards the dark-haired boy. His eyes scan the room and the only free seat is right in front of you, between Herbert and Felix. 

Mattheo sighs and takes place on the empty seat. He feels your brothers stare at him, and he does his best to try and act normal. He smiles politely and answers any questions your mother asks him. Eventually, he learns that — who he believes is Felix — is a beater for the Caerphilly Catapults. His wife plays for the Holyhead Harpies and that's how they met each other. 

Dinner seems to pass by smoothly — not counting the snarky remarks of the twins. But they're dicks. As everybody starts to collect the dishes, your father clears his throat. "Why don't you all go outside and...", he glances towards Mattheo, "Take a lap around the fountain so Mattheo and I can have a heart-to-heart."

Both you and Mattheo send slightly panicked looks towards each other as he gets led away by your father. As your brothers let out an 'oooh', you jab Danny in his side with your elbow. He rubs his side with a slight pout and you poke out your tongue. 

"The last one is a rotten egg!", yells Victor and he sprints towards the back door. You let out a curse and start sprinting after him, the others following. 

While you and your brothers race towards the burrow, Mattheo gets led towards your father's office. He anxiously takes place in the chair in front of your father's desk. The man leans forward and studies the Slytherin boy with narrowed eyes. 

"What are your intentions with my daughter?", he asks, getting straight to the point. 

What are his intentions? Well... he can think of a few things. But none are parent-approved answers. "I like her. I really do, Sir. I wouldn't dare to hurt her." Because that is the truth. He always had a crush on you, but getting to know you? You're everything and so much more than he imagined. 

Your father hums. "I ask this because I have received some chatter that you've been in a... physical altercation with one Malcolm Preece. So, Mattheo, what is the deal with that?" He leans back in the leather chair, one brow raised.

For the first time in a while, Mattheo feels genuinely nervous. And it's not the same kind of nervous before he took you out on your first date. No. This is a different kind of nervousness. A deep-down fear to disappoint the people who he cares about. 

And yes, you are one of those people he realises. He cares about you the most.

Lying will do no good. Because, as your father has shown, he somehow has a way to get information about what happens at school. "In all honesty, sir, Preece was threatening your daughter. They broke up and he kept bothering her. It... indeed got physical because some guys don't know when to take a hint." 

Your father purses his lips, his eyes scanning over Mattheo's face. Searching for a sign of dishonesty. But he finds none. 

"Did you at least get him good?"

That makes the dark-haired boy laugh. "Yes, sir. He won't dare to bother her again."

Your father stands up from his chair and holds out his hand for Mattheo to shake. With a smile and a firm handshake, he says, "You did good son. Now, I believe someone's way too anxious to wait a second longer." He points towards the door, where a shadow is seen pacing under through the crack.

Mattheo closes the door behind him and sees you look at him with wide eyes, chewing on your thumb. "How did it go? What did Dad say?" You fling your arms around him and press your cheek against his shoulder.

He smiles and wraps his arms around you. "Don't worry. Everything's fine." When you look up at him, he cradles your face and wipes away some stray dirt. "Don't you worry your pretty little head about it", he smiles.

You roll your eyes but can't help but smile. "Fine. You know what, if we leave now, we maybe have some time left before curfew."

A smirk grows on Mattheo's face while he wetts his bottom lip. "And do what?"

"I don't know", you shrug playfully, pulling him with you, "We will see."

"Absolutely not", says your mother when you come and say your goodbyes. "Your room is already set up. Fresh sheets and everything! Wasn't that clear from my letter?"

Your eyes dart nervously towards Mattheo, who gives you the same look. You silently ask him if he's okay with it. If he's not uncomfortable. He shrugs. He's not too bothered by the idea of staying over.

A sigh escapes you. "Fine. But we don't have anything to sleep in."

Your mother claps in her hands and gets up from the couch, motioning for the both of you to follow her. She leads you through the house, towards your bedroom. 

The smell of clean cotton hits you as soon as you enter your room and you breathe in the smell. That's one of the many things you miss about your home. The house elves of Hogwarts don't use the same detergent as your mother and it just hits a special spot in your brain when you finally smell it.

"I'll grab a pair of Felix's clothes for you, Mattheo." Your mother pats his shoulders before exiting the room.

The boy in question stands in the middle of your bedroom and a smile grows on his face. He can't explain why but it so much you. In the short period he has gotten to know you, this is exactly the type of room he imagined you to have. Maybe with fewer plants.

A four-poster bed stands in the middle of the room, facing a fireplace. On top of the bed grows some hanging plants that spread onto the walls and turn into wallpaper. There's a cosy-looking chair next to the fireplace with tons of pillows and blankets. 

You watch him eyeing the chair and you mention towards it. "You can sit in it if you want. It gives you also a really nice view over the garden." 

Mattheo does so, burying himself between the pillows. The garden is almost too perfect with the way it's lit up by floating lights and lightningbugs. When he looks back at you to comment on the beautifulness, he sees you pull away the many pillows from your bed into a trunk at the front of your bed and readying the bed for sleeping.

"I... I can sleep on the ground- if you're more comfortable with that. I could even fall asleep in this chair."

You stop what you're doing and look at him with such a scandalised look that it makes him shrink. "Uhm how about no? I dragged you into this, like hell I let you sleep on the floor!"

Your mother comes back at the right time with a pair of joggers and a shirt in her hands. She gives him a warm smile as she hands him the clothing, instructing him to where the bathroom is. Mattheo takes that as his saving grace to get a moment of his own. He has to admit, your family is a lot. This whole situation is a lot. And he has nobody to blame for it except himself.

Not that he blames himself. He's quite enjoying himself, being with you, meeting your parents and seeing where you grew up. He now gets why you are how you are. How you can shine so bright because your parents do everything to lighten you.

When he comes back you are also changed in quite the same outfit as him. You are sitting on your bed, nervously nibbling on the side of your thumb. He strides towards you and grabs your hand, stopping you from destroying your nailbed and making you look up at him.

"Are you okay", he asks, interlacing your fingers.

You nod with a hum, eyes focused on your interlinked hands. "Yeah... I'm just tired from today." You run a hand over your hair, brushing some stray strands out of your face. "Are you okay?"

Mattheo lets out a light-hearted scoff. "Don't worry about me, lovely. My family is much much worse."

You blink, wanting to ask more. But a knock on your door stops you. Your father stands in the door opening, Victor looming over his shoulder and glaring daggers at Mattheo. 

"Will you do your old man a favour and keep the door open? I know it makes you uncomfortable, hun. But I don't think I have to explain why?" He motions with his eyes towards how close the two of you are and with a sigh, you nod.

The house is so old that it creaks and groans with even the slightest breeze. And it freaks you out when you hear it at night. Are you saying that this centuries-old house doesn't have ghosts? Likely.

As your dad walks away, Victor takes a step forward, his jaw taut. "You", he points towards the dark-haired boy, "I'm right next door and these walls aren't as thick as they seem. I will hear everything. No funny business!"

Mattheo sends him a charming smile that you know will irritate Victor. "I promise." But when he turns around when Victor storms away, he shows you his crossed fingers. You let out a giggle and swat him.

After that you take it as a cue to get ready to sleep so you crawl under the covers. Mattheo positions himself between you and the open door and the two of you lay on your backs, staring up at the canopy. 

It... feels weird having Mattheo Riddle next to you in your bed. The even weirder feeling is the desire to keep him there.

You turn so you're facing him, your hands tucked under your pillow. "I've been wondering... When you spoke in Parsletongue, what did you say?"

Mattheo tenses slightly before turning towards you, a pink flush heats up his cheeks. His eyes trace every inch of your face, taking in the details; moles, freckles, perfect imperfections. It makes him want to reach out and trace every one of them.

"Oh I don't remember", he says offhandedly, his eyes fleeing yours.

You scoot closer, a mischievous smile on your face. "Yes, you do! Please tell me. It can't be that embarrassing."

His lips part and the same sounds fill the room, raising goosebumps on your arms. "You are... you are the most beautiful person I know and I don't know if I can keep pretending that this is fake."

Your smile melts off your face and you look with wide eyes towards him. An unsure look fills his eyes as his brows knit together. "Say something", he whispers- begs. A hesitant hand reaches out and gets placed on your cheek.

Your heart beats a million miles an hour and every word just escapes your brain. So you do what you have been wanting to do for a while now. And you kiss him. Pressing your lips against his, you close your eyes while your hand travels from his wrist to his shoulder, gripping him tightly.

Mattheo lets out a surprised humph, his eyes wide as he watches your eyes flutter close. He breathes in deeply before kissing you back, pulling you closer.

Two pairs of lips mould against each other while Mattheo's hand slides down and grips your thigh, wrapping your leg around his middle. Your body melts against his as the kiss grows more fierce, lips parting and tongues exploring each other's mouths. 

A low growl emits from Mattheo as you part, your chest raising and falling rapidly. He zeros in on your neck and decides then and there how kissable the skin looks and that it needs to be marked.

Your head gets thrown back as Mattheo attacks your neck with kisses, licks and bites and you do your best to suppress the breathy moan that wants to escape you. You bite your bottom lip as your eyes squeeze close. 

Mattheo's lips travel down, tracing the shape of your throat with his teeth and he flips the both of you over, hovering above you. He relishes in your bitten raw lips and the half-lidded look you give him. The way your chest raises and makes your shirt tighten... he thanks whatever god there is out there that made this possible.

His admiring takes too long in your opinion and you grab the back of his head, yanking him down so he kisses you again. Mattheo complies and cradles your face, his big hands engulfing your cheeks, feeling the heat underneath them. 

He pecks your lips a few times before trailing down, Mattheo's hands finding the hem of your sleep shirt. He glances at you and only continues after a nod. He pushes your shirt up, above your breast while his lips trail from your chin, neck, and collarbones, to your sternum. 

When he flattens his tongue tentatively against one of your nipples, a moan escapes you. It makes him smirk against your skin, doing it again. 

"Matt... ah!", you squeak out, gripping his shoulder.

His tongue swirls against the nub and one of his hands reaches up, clasping a hand over your mouth to silence the sweet noises pouring out of your mouth. Your tongue swipes over one of his fingers. Mattheo presses the pads of his pointer and middle finger against your tongue before sliding into your mouth.

A 'mmph' escapes you while you suck around his digits, hands trying to ground yourself as everything feels too much; his tongue against your boob, his fingers in your mouth, and something hard pressing against your core. 

Your hands find the hem of his shirt and your nails rake up against his bare back. He moans against you and releases your nipple with a 'pop'. He looks at you with dark eyes and swollen lips while he lowers himself towards your core.

While his fingers dance over the elastic of your underwear, you push his fingers out of your mouth. "Matt wait..."

As if your words scorched him, he's off you immediately, his chest raising rapidly and face flushed. "I'm-I'm sorry. I got a little carried away..."

You sit up, pushing your shirt down and shaking your head. "No... please don't- it's okay. I-I enjoyed it too. It's just...", you cradle his face and peck his lips, "I don't want our first time to be in my childhood bedroom and avoid making too much noise."

Mattheo leans into your touch and kisses your palm. You pull him down with you and lay on top of his chest. When you move your legs, you accidentally bump against his boner. You sputter out an apology, feeling bad for blue-balling him.

His hands grab your hips tightly and he presses you closer against his body. He brings his lips towards your ear. "Don't worry about it, Princess. Because when I have the chance, I'm gonna fuck you so good you forget our whole relationship was fake to begin with."

Oh Gods, you created a monster... 

Tag list (bold means I couldn't tag you): @mylosz0 @kermits-bitch @jolly4holly @daisiesformylove @frogtape @dancing-inasnowglobe @slytheos @undercover-smutlover @reverse-soe @nikkissecretlibrary @moon-struck-meraki @bengbengbengi @justhavingsomefun1 @itsamusical4lifee @genshingeeksworld @y0urm0m12 @alnitakstarsky03 @mel-vaz @slytherinboysappreciation @sailtomarina @bubybubsters @jasmine2105 @abaker74 @lovelyygirl8 @vickykazuya @eltrss @llpovi@m1kasawps @sol3chu @ledtassoo @itsarajr @glittervame

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[adventuringblind]

Misheard, Misjudged

Lando Norris x Leclerc Reader

Genre: Angst with a pinch of spice

Summary: Lando overhears a conversation and thinks it’s about him

Warnings: Lando’s self-esteem plummets

Notes: I’m aware I have things to do but I’m doing a friend a favor

Masterlist

Lando and the little Leclerc are everybody’s favorite couple. He clings to her every second of every day and she gets livid when her brother call her little. Younger then Arthur by a minute and she never hears the end of it.

Their families love them, the fans love them, but most importantly is that they love each other.

They met when Arthur started racing again. She was bored without her partner in crime, so Charles took her on as is social media manager. Needles to say they banter a lot. Charles’ fashion choices are horrendous at times but she loves him nonetheless.

Charles teases them all the time about how they are practically glued together. Which is probably true, considering they are like magnets in the paddock.

So in Lando’s head, it makes no sense why she would say such things about him. In their home. With her friends.

‘Sure he’s good looking, but like - is there really anything else? He’s so childish and whines like a bitch. Also, have you seen how clingy he is?”

He couldn’t listen anymore after that. Is he really that clingy? And for all intensive purposes, isn’t she also clingy? He never thought it was that bad. Sure, people tease, but who cares what they think? Or, maybe he’s just overthinking and he should just ask about it.

Scratch that - a terrible plan. Instead he shall withdrawal himself and see if it makes her happier.

The first week she looks confused and a little hurt by his actions, but she doesn’t say anything. No more initiated physical contact. No random hugs and kisses. He doesn’t cling to her during the race weekend like normal.

See! He isn’t cling! if anything, she’s definitely the more clingy one out of the two.

Week two hurt more then the first. He catches snippets of a few phone calls between her and Charles. She’s locked in the bathroom and her voice is cracking. “I don’t understand what I did, Charlie.”

Doesn’t understand what she did? You can’t just say things about a person and expect everything to be okay after. Why doesn’t she talk to him about it? If she wanted more space he would’ve just rather have talked about it then have overheard the love of his life shattering his heart into pieces.

He turns her back to her in bed starting week three. She looks tired over the next few days. Not just yawning, but the dark circles under red eyes screams that something is wrong.

she starts leaving sticky notes on his things, on the counters, the insides of cabinets, and even plastered all over thee mirror.

He ignores them. Yet his mind starts to wonder if maybe he should just ask her why. But it’s not like she talked to him, so why she he talk to her now?

He wonders again when he catches Max glaring at him.

And again when Oscar grows concerned.

And then when George gives a PowerPoint presentation with how to communicate properly.

Yeah, ok - so this wasn’t the right way to go about this. He really wishes George and his stupid PowerPoint had come earlier.

The icing on the cake is when he comes home one day and passes Charles as he’s leaving. He doesn’t look happy at all, and honestly, Lando can’t blame him.

He goes straight to bed, face buried in the pillow. Limbs tossed dramatically like a Disney princess in despair.

“Lando?” Her small voice shreds every ounce of strength he has left. She sits on the bed beside him. He doesn’t look up and she sighs heavily. “Please talk to me.”

When he does finally look at her. Truly, for the first time in months, he sees just how broken she looks.

“What’s there to talk about?” He curses himself and his tone because she flinches away at it.

“Why are you avoiding me? I don’t understand what I did…”

He scoffs. “Don’t know what you did? Last month at your little get together? Calling me a clingy whiny bitch behind my back?” He chokes on the last part.

She looks at him, head tilted in confusion. The same look she gives when he’s trying to read directions. Confused, loving, patient. Why is she smiling?

“You didn’t hear the beginning of that did you?”

“No.” He pouts.

“Lando, love, light of my life - that was about Charles.”

His entire body freezes. It’s true that her friends like Charles and she hates when the fawn over him. Oh, he’s been an idiot. An Absolute asshole.

“I’m so sorry.” He throws himself at her and every ounce of anxiety over the past month is washed away as soon as her fingertips touch his skin.

“Charles is terribly clingy to everybody and he’s my brother. Of course he’s a whiny bitch in my eyes.” He would respond but his brain is mush at her hands in his hair.

“I just got so in my head. I’m so sorry I didn’t talk to you - George gave me the whole lecture about proper communication.”

“I Know. He said you were hopeless.”

“How encouraging of him.”

Lando pulls her on top of him. Her warmth, her skin, her full body weight is everything he ever needs to survive.

“I can’t believe you’re smiling at me.”

“I’m mad at you, but maybe we can make up.” She raises her eyes suggestively.

“I think I can make that happen.”

#x reader #fanficion #formula one #f1 fic #formula 1 #racing #f1 fanfic #lando norris x y/n #lando norris fluff #mclaren lando norris #lando norris x you #lando norris 4 #lando norris x reader #lando norris fanfic #lando norris f1 #lando norris #ln4 imagine #ln4 #ln4 x reader #mclaren formula 1 #mclaren racing #mclaren #papaya #f1 #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula one x reader #leclerc!reader #lando norris angst

[ystrike1]

Twisted Love from My Coworker - By Starling-chan (8/10)

A delusional yandere. This one is maxed out on crazy. It's kind of a shock that he can function normally in society. He believes he's dating his cute subordinate, but they're not even friends. She snaps one day. She tells him to stop giving her gifts. To stop being so creepy, and he steals her away. It's scary.

Aoi is a cool, capable and handsome guy.

He's kind too. It doesn't seem to be a mask, but Ichino can't handle his flirting. He's too bold. He doesn't just compliment her.

He says he's her boyfriend, as a joke(?) The joke goes too far. It starts to scare her. He knows her favorite drink...and things about her family too. At first she just thinks he has an inappropriate sense of humor, but it doesn't make sense. He's unfailingly polite to everybody else. Why would he make up such a weird, elaborate joke with her? When she clearly doesn't find it funny??? They're not close enough to joke. They're subordinate and manager. Ichino can't complain, because she doesn't want to be branded a troublemaker at work.

They both live nearby.

She meets Aoi when she's out on a date. Her dates keep abandoning her. He's stalking them too. Ichino thinks she has bad luck in love, because that would be crazy.

Aoi is just joking. There's no way. Why would her boss systemically ruin her life and future?

He planted microphones in her house.

He also thinks she is neglecting him. Aoi genuinely believes they are already dating, so his feelings are hurt.

When Ichino keeps rejecting his date invitations he gets worse.

His mental state crashes.

He's still sweet.

He loves Ichino. She's the best girlfriend. He's kind of inexperienced. He started going to the gym, and taking care of his looks, to impress her. He successfully won her over!!! She blushes when she sees him!!! They're in love!!! Ichino is really inconsiderate though!! How can she hang out with other men alone, when she has a boyfriend!!! Who is being sorely neglected!!!

Why!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!WHY?????

It gets worse.

Ichino knows her photo is his lock screen picture. He's not hiding it. He's delusional. Ichino thinks the joke has gone waaaayyyyy too far, but she likes her job. Aoi is actually a really competent and talented businessman. Ichino has lots of friends in the office.

She's willing to put up with the jokes until he gets bored.

It sucks because this is the perfect office. Ichino has known some of these friends since university, and she's super good at her job. Life is great.....but the girlfriend jokes make her extremely uncomfortable. She avoids being alone with Aoi, but it keeps happening.

He always finds her.

He gives her a really expensive gift, for no reason. He just wants attention. He'll use money to get it. He thinks his beloved is mad at him. He shows her that he cares about her health, down to the smallest detail.

It also comes with a GPS feature, usually used for children and teens.

Ichino snaps.

They have one sweet moment.

Ichino gets drunk. She wakes up in a car. Aoi is driving her home. She's grateful. He does always take care of her, and she admires his work ethic. She thanks him, for being such a good coworker.

He has a key.

To her house.

She can't believe her eyes when he opens her door for her. They argue again. She can't pretend its a joke anymore, and he kidnaps her. It's implied that they start dating because of the manager/subordinate power imbalance.

#Twisted Love from My Coworker #yandere #male yandere #yandere male #yandere boy #recommendations #recs #rec #recommended

[vivwritesfics]

Bleeding From The Storm

Chapter Two - Angel

After the death of his son, the head of the Dupont family wants his daughter protected. He moved her to Monaco, the safe zone, and has her protected by Charles Leclerc. Max Verstappen was never supposed to meet her. He didn't even know who she was. But he knew she was beautiful, and he knew he wanted to know more, much to the horror of Charles Leclerc.

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READ PLS: hello my lovelies!! So, if you're here from the first part, pls either reread or take note that I have removed all connection to the bianchi family -- the brother is called Louis and the last name is Dupont

Max returned to that spot time and time again. He drove past the café almost every day for his first week in Monaco. Sometimes his angel was there, sometimes she wasn't.

This time, though, when Max drove past, she was there. Sitting in the café with a fruity smoothie in front of her, wearing another sun dress. This time it was green, the skirt slightly shorter and little white flowers decorating it.

Max parked up around the corner. He straightened his tie and climbed out of his car. Always dressed in a suit just in case anybody needed him. Just in case his father called him back to work.

He walked past her, paying no mind as he stepped through the café doors. But then he stepped back, something between a smirk and a smile on his face as he walked towards her.

"Hi," he said, his hand on the back of the chair opposite her own. "Can I ask what you ordered? I'm hoping to get something sweet."

She knew not to talk to strangers. Even before the death of her brother, she had been taught how much danger she was in at all times. Normally Charles would be here to take care of it, to glare a the stranger until they moved away.

But Charles wasn't here. This is what she got for sneaking out.

Thank God this guy was cute. That shouldn't have been a reason to answer him, but she did. She held up her plastic cup and shook it slightly, answering him. "Strawberry banana," she said and put the straw to her lips. Max watched as the pink liquid moved up the straw. "It's incredibly sweet."

Max couldn't stop his smile from widening. He leaned against the chair in front of him now, not just resting his hands on it. "Is it as sweet as you?"

Oh, he was flirting with her.

She couldn't hide her embarrassment. Every time a mad had tried to flirt with her before, Charles had shut them down and scared them off.

But this man, well Charles wasn't there to scare him off. For the first time in her life a man was openly flirting with her. He was flirting with her and it was making het all bashful. And maybe a little bit shy.

He held his large hand out towards her. She couldn't help but take notice of the watch on his wrist. It was no doubt expensive, but that wasn't a surprise, considering where they were. "I'm Max," he said, keeping his hand stretched out.

She took it, but her grip was loose as she told him her name. "But everybody calls me Bunny."

"Bunny," he responded, listening to the way it rolled off of his tongue. He liked it, liked how it sounded. But, if everybody called her Bunny, Max needed something else. He looked at her, really looked at her. Looked at the way her hair fell around her shoulders, the way her fingers, nails painted to match her dress, wrapped around her plastic cups. Looked at the way her pink lips wrapped around her straw. "Angel. I think it's more fitting."

Before Max could say anything further, his phone beeped. Saving her, he couldn't help but think. "Well, Angel, I have to go," he said, standing up straight. "Can I see you again?" 

She smiled as she nodded. "You know where to find me," she said and sipped the rest of her drink.

Max looked at her once more and walked away, down the street and back to his car. For the last week Max had been waiting for his father to call him back to work and, now that he had, he didn't want to leave. 

Max disappeared and she was alone. She sipped her smoothie and returned to her small sketchbook, pencil moving against the page. 

Suddenly, somebody slipped into the seat opposite her. She looked up, hoping it was Max, returning to flirt with her some more. But she was met with disappointment.

"Oh, Arthur," she said when she looked at the youngest Leclerc brother. "Am I in trouble?"

Arthur let out a small laugh and furrowed her brows at her. "You sneak out too often to get into trouble, Bun," he replied as he looked around. 

"Not because I spoke to that guy?" She asked innocently. 

But Arthur's face dropped. He may have been younger than her, but he was still tasked with keeping her safe. "Do you remember what this guy looked like, Bunny?" He asked as he grabbed her sketchbook and pulled her from her chair. 

She nodded her head as Arthur led her down the street. "He was cute," she said and let out a little laugh. 

But Arthur wasn't laughing as he looked around the streets. "You know that's not what I meant," he replied as he led her into her apartment building. "You know you're not meant to talk to strangers."

He dragged her up the stairs and pulled her into her apartment. Arthur immediately sat her down and checked every crevice of the apartment. He grabbed the knife from the kitchen and checked inside of the bedroom. 

Nothing, her apartment was clear. 

"Fucking hell, Bunny," Arthur spat. "You had me terrified."

She pouted as she fiddled with her fingers. "He was flirting with me, 'thur. I think he really thought I was cute," she mumbled and laid herself down on the sofa, pulling her legs into her chest. 

Arthur released a breath from his nose as he looked down at her. "Of course he did, Bunny," he whispered and ran his fingers through her hair. "It's just... Charles and I don't know this person. We don't know if they can be trusted.”

She didn't reply.

Eventually Charles came to her apartment. When he let himself in, Arthur retreated to the kitchen. To 'make dinner', he had said. (But, something you should know about the Leclerc brothers is that neither of them could cook very well. Arthur stopped by his mothers every night for dinner and Charles wouldn't eat unless Bunny cooked for him).

The first thing Charles did was stride over to her. He sat on the end of the couch and looked down at her. "I'm not mad you snuck out," he said. Which, although it sounded like it, it wasn't a good sign. If it wasn't because of the sneaking out, he was mad about something else.

She didn't look at him, instead staring at her coffee table. There was a light layer on dust on it, and she made a mental note to clean it later. After this stupid conversation.

"But, Bunny, I need you to tell me who this guy is. Did he give you a name? Any indication of who she was?"

She'd made the mistake of telling Arthur something, she wasn't going to do it again. She tried her best to shrug her shoulders from the position she was sitting in, but it didn't much work. "He just asked what flavour my smoothie was," she said and sat up slightly.

She couldn't tell if Charles believed her or not. He simply let out a sigh and patted her leg. "Wanna get take out?" He asked softly. "We can kick Arthur out, share Chinese food and watch a movie. How does that sound, Bun?"

Her arms were folded over her chest as she sat up and looked at him. "Are you paying for it?" She asked through a pout.

"Yeah, Bun, I'll pay for it," he said and went to the kitchen to grab the menus. At the same time he kicked Arthur out of the apartment (grateful that he hadn't started cooking any sort of monstrosity yet).

Charles knew exactly what he was going to be ordering, but he still handed her the menu. She asked for the same thing every time, and this time was no different. He was on the phone, ordering food within minutes.

He couldn't concentrate on much through the movie. Charles watched her, but he couldn't help but think of some faceless stranger, snatching her in the middle of the night.

He'd let her get away with sneaking out, even if he hadn't meant to. But not again. There was no way Charles was going to let her out of his sight now.

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Series taglist (OPEN): @doofensmirtzevil-inc @styl1shl1v @dreamsarebig @bokutos-babyowl @minmira95 @booksandflowrs @spookystitchery @purplephantomwolf @minchedchilli @starssfall @mellowarcadefun @the-ghost-lovwr @solidalibi @graydahlia21 @st4rshine @iloveyou3000morgan @vicurious28

#max verstappen #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x you #mv1 #mv1 imagine #mv1 x reader #mv33 #mv33 imagine #mv33 x reader #max verstappen smut #max verstappen x reader smut #f1 #formula one #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #mafia!f1 #mafia!au

[neonghostlights]

Fuckboy!werewolf!Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

Based off my little drabble here.

Warnings: Eddie gets called a man-whore (not by reader), mates, cussing, mention of almost hitting an animal with your car (doesn't happen but almost does), parental and grandparent death (readers whole family is dead) 18+ only, minors dni

Wordcount: 3.9k

Series masterlist

Hawkins was fucking weird. 

You should have taken the hint when you stopped by the lone gas station about an hour before reaching the town and asked the clerk for directions to make sure you were going the right way. He laughed at you like you were joking as soon as the question left your mouth. When he eventually figured out by your blank faced expression that you were indeed dead serious about trying to get to Hawkins, he gave the directions you needed with a quick “good luck with that.” 

You’d be lying if you said his words didn’t make you second guess this move. But now that you had arrived at your destination and mostly settled into your small home at the edge of the town, it just seemed like a normal place. It was a small town with everyone seeming to already know everybody, leaving you the odd man out. Everyone that you had come across so far was mostly kind to you and welcoming considering the circumstances. 

Your aunt used to own the home you had now taken residence in. She passed suddenly, leaving you as the only living descendant to inherit her things. You almost sold it off, but for some reason the town of Hawkins called to you, making you think that maybe it was meant to be. Before you knew it you were packing up your things, quitting your job at a grocery store, and making the sudden and long drive. 

Your new home was a double wide trailer that sat on a secluded piece of land. Your aunt seemed to really like her privacy. There were no other homes for miles. The trees and forest surrounding your expansive yard gave you enough privacy to walk outside naked if you wanted to with no worries of anyone ever seeing you. 

You had never met your aunt before. You had been raised solely by your grandparents since your mother passed and your father wasn’t ever in the picture. 

You knew your aunt suddenly left their home young, leaving your mother and grandparents behind, and never looked back. But you never knew the details behind it. You always thought it was odd when you were younger since you thought your grandparents and mom were the best people ever. But now as an adult you could see how some people needed independence. 

Even if that independence was a secluded house in a small town that literally no one else has ever heard of.  

You stared out the car window at the rain that started last night and never let up. Your windshield wipers squeaked furiously as they rushed back and forth on the highest setting. You were already parked in your work parking lot, preparing yourself for the run you were going to have to make into the building. 

Water sloshed up the legs of your jeans as your rain boots splashed through every puddle that you couldn’t seem to avoid. You were drenched by the time you made it to the door. The bell on the handle dinged at your arrival and you wiped your boots against the mat furiously even though you knew it wouldn’t do any good.

“Hey!” Jessie called as she peeked her head around a shelf. 

You waved in response and made your way behind the counter and threw your bags underneath of it. You had been working at Bee’s Books for a month now and you liked it so far. You were hired on the spot when you came in asking for a job application, the owner was impressed by you and desperate enough to practically throw the job at you. 

It was a large store, surprising for the size town it resided in. You fell for the charm of it and the employee discount you got on all of your book purchases. 

“I thought Tina was working with us today too?” You asked as you snapped your name badge in place over your sweater. 

“She is,” Jessie said as she dropped the stack of books onto the counter. “She’s in the back doing something. You wanna put these up for me in the fantasy section while I put these in young adult?”

You nodded, picking up the stack of books and making your way to their designated section. The stack was thick and heavy, already making your arm ache only seconds after picking them up. You set your chin on top of it to better hold it in place as you walked through the rows of shelves. 

Jessie and Tina were nice and all, but you had a feeling Jessie liked to dictate jobs at you that she didn’t feel like doing. You already guessed that she would probably be up at the counter giggling with Tina instead of putting away the other stack of books like she said she would. 

It was hard being new in a town where the people all grew up together. You felt like an outsider, like everyone was being nice to your face and then whispering behind your back as you walked past. You wondered if part of that was because your aunt was eccentric. 

You slowly shoved the books into their designated spots on the shelf, not rushing to get back up to the front. If you were honest, you would live in a book store if you could. When you were young your mom used to bring you to the library that was down the street from your grandparents house every saturday. You would both spend hours flipping through the fantasy section with not a care in the world. 

After she died, those visits to the library became more lonely but you still did it because you enjoyed it so much. 

You heard the bell ding from the front door and the chatter between the two girls up front stop suddenly. 

The hair on the back of your neck started to rise and a chill broke out on your arms. 

You blamed your clothes still wet from the rain. You rolled your shoulders back, trying to calm your sudden chill before reaching for another book from the stack cradled in your left arm. 

You could hear the sound of wet sneakers against the carpeted floors approaching, along with the sound of enthusiastic chattering. You couldn’t hear Tina and Jessie up front anymore and you assumed it was because they were off helping customers. 

The sound of whoever was approaching got closer and you turned and faced the shelf again, hoping they wouldn’t need anything from you. You weren’t the best at the customer interaction side of this job and would rather hide behind the shelves than talk to someone. 

 You heard the sound of the walking stop but the chattering of a younger voice kept going in a one sided conversation. 

You glanced up, offering a polite smile. A teenager stood there, looking no older than fifteen. He had curly hair with a round face and dimples. He spoke enthusiastically to the person standing beside him, not caring that he was being ignored. 

You looked over to the person he was with to see his eyes were already on you. He had long brown hair and dark eyes that reminded you of melted chocolate. His skin was pale but you could just barely make out the light dusting of freckles across his nose if you focused as hard as you were right now. 

He dressed in all black, from his leather jacket to his shirt, jeans and thick boots. His hands were decorated with chunky metal rings that reminded you of costume jewelry. He let out a woosh of air from his lungs as he reached out to the wooden shelf beside him. The rings thudded against the wood as he grasped it so tightly that you thought it might splinter. He wobbled slightly, almost as if he was drunk. 

His full lips were slightly parted as he kept staring at you. 

You wished you could set down the stack of books somewhere so you could rub your arms in an attempt to fight the goosebumps plaguing up and down your skin. 

The boy beside him stopped talking, looking up at his friend with confusion. 

“Eddie? What’s wrong?” The boy asked with concern, nudging his friend's arm. 

Eddie, which was apparently his name, didn’t react to his friend's touch. He continued staring at you with a look you couldn’t decipher and it made the goosebumps spread across your skin with a vengeance. 

“Are you okay?” You asked him, wondering if you should yell for Tina or Jessie to call an ambulance. 

He blinked a few times at the sound of your voice, seeming to have been pulled from whatever trance he was in. 

His friend tugged on his arm. “Eddie?” 

He pried his eyes away from yours to look at his boy. He released his tight grip on the shelf and you realized his full body was trembling. You wondered if he was cold too. 

He didn’t say anything as he quickly turned and rushed away from you, leaving his friend behind. 

The boy let out a small, “oh.” as he stared at you with a wide eyed look. The look of shock didn’t last long before his open mouth spread into a smug looking wide smile. His face changing from shock to joy in a heartbeat. 

“Sorry about that,” he said, not sounding sorry at all. 

He backed away slowly, still with a smile on his face while you stared at him in confusion. 

“It was very nice to meet you. I’m Dustin,” he said before turning around and running in the same direction as Eddie. 

You blinked a few times, trying to process what the hell just happened. Your eyes met with Tina’s who was peeking around the shelf with an annoyed look on her face. She rolled her eyes and made her way back to the front. 

“What the hell?” you said out loud, talking to only the books. Confused on what had just happened in the past few minutes. 

You put the rest of the books away, heading to the front of the store to see if Tina and Jessie needed help with anything. 

They were huddled beside each other at the counter, leaned close and whispering frantically in hushed tones. Tina’s hands were waving in the air. You wondered what had happened to piss her off. 

They didn’t look up until you were behind the counter and grabbing more books to put away. You noticed them sharing a look with eachother out of the corner of your eyes before Jessie turned towards you. 

“Hey. What did Eddie Munson say to you back there?” Jessie asked, her voice going higher in false politeness. It reminded you of the customer service tone she used when a customer was asking too many questions or messing up a perfectly designed display. 

“Uh, nothing?” You shrugged while stacking the books onto the cart. There was no way you were carrying all of these this time. 

“Well, it looked like something happened,” Tina snapped, not bothering to be nice at all. 

You looked up at her in confusion. Jessie and Tina had never acted like this towards you before. Tina’s eyes were red and watery, like she was on the verge of crying and it made you feel bad. 

“Nothing happened. He didn’t even say anything to me. He just stared at me for a second and then walked away,” you offered, hoping this would make things normal again so you could just do your job and then go home. 

Jessie rubbed a soothing hand up and down Tina’s back. 

“See. I told you,” she cooed, trying to make her friend feel better. 

You set down the book you were holding. 

“I’m confused,” you admitted. “Did I do something wrong?” 

“No,” Jessie offered with a small smile, still rubbing Tina’s back as she placed her head in her hands. “Eddie Munson is just a jerk is all.” 

“Oh. Yeah. He did seem kind of rude,” you admitted, not really caring for this conversation much at all. 

Tina snapped her head up and stared at you with narrow eyes. 

“I thought you said he didn’t say anything to you,” she wailed. 

Jessie shot you a look, silently telling you to shut up. 

“He didn’t!” You exclaimed, feeling the need to defend yourself. “He just stood there and walked away!”

Tina nodded, wiping underneath her eyes with the tissue Jessie handed her. 

“What’s the big deal about him anyways?” You questioned, needing to know the story behind this to ease your own curiosity. 

“He’s a man-whore. He makes girls feel special and then just dumps them after he gets what he wants. If you’ve talked to any girl in this town then he’s slept with them,” Jessie said, sounding like she was telling a story about the boogeyman and not just some guy that wears a lot of black and stares at people in weird ways. 

You wanted to ask Jessie if she was included on the list of girls Eddie Munson had fucked over but you wanted peace for the rest of the day. 

You couldn’t help the sudden feeling of disappointment that settled into your gut at the information you had learned. It wasn’t like you knew him since he literally didn’t say at word to you and the whole interaction was weird but for some reason your brain had told you that he was harmless. Your chest felt strange, like the feeling of seeing your crush holding someone else's hand. Which was weird, because although Eddie Munson was beautiful you had only seen him for a few seconds. Surely not long enough to form any attachment. 

He was a stranger. 

“I’m sorry, Tina.He sounds like a real asshole,” you said wholeheartedly. You meant it. It seemed like Eddie Munson had truly broken the poor girl's heart. 

What an asshole. 

Tina sniffled, nodding in agreement. 

“So, if I were you I’d stay far away from him,” Jessie warned, sounding more like a threat. 

“Trust me,” you sighed, “I am definitely not interested.”

You grabbed the handles on the cart, pulling it away from the awkward conversation. Tina and Jessie started whispering again as soon as you walked away. 

The rain was pouring harder than it was earlier. 

You were contemplating making a run for it to get to the dry safety of your car but you couldn’t bring yourself to move from under the awning that hung over the store's front door. 

It was dark out now, night time coming in behind the gloomy rain clouds. The lights of the parking lot could only illuminate so much with the heavy gushes of rain coming down. 

Jessie came out of the door behind you, jumping slightly as she noticed you. 

You smiled awkwardly, the air still feeling weird from earlier. 

Jessie and Tina had kept to themselves for the rest of the day. You didn’t mind, enjoying the solitude of stacking books on your own or taking inventory. 

Tina had already gone home, running to her car as soon as she finished her last task. She got lucky with there being a break in the rain when she left. You wished you had hurried out at the same time as her. 

Jessie stuck around though to finish counting the register, saying that she had a family member coming to pick her up so she wouldn’t have to drive in the weather. She had even asked your boss if her car would be okay in the parking lot overnight. 

“Why are you still here?” She asked as she came up beside you. 

“Not ready to go through the rain. Hoping it’ll lighten up soon,” you shrugged, wrapping your arms around yourself tighter.

Jessie nodded, looking out at the parking lot and the street before it expectantly. 

About fifteen minutes pass by with you both standing in silence. Water dripped from the awning and splashed at your feet rhythmically. Neither of you said anything about it or made any attempt to move.

The rain hitting the pond that used to be the parking lot was the only sound to be heard. 

You wanted to leave so bad. You just wanted to say screw it and sprint for your car to brave the drive home. But you didn’t feel right leaving Jessie here by herself in the bad weather and darkness. 

“Do you want me to drive you home so you don’t have to wait any later?” You asked, checking your watch to see how far it had passed since closing time. 

You just wished the rain would lighten up now so you could just leave and go curl up in your bed with one of your new books. 

Jessie shook her head, face falling as each car passed the parking lot without turning in. 

The rain finally lightened to a drizzle and you groaned in relief. You stepped out from under the awning, turning back to check on Jessie. 

She stepped out from under the awning too, following you to where your cars were parked. 

“Guess he isn’t coming. Asshole,” you heard her mutter before she climbed into her car and pulled away.  

The rain finally stopped the next day. 

You woke up bright and early on your day off, much earlier than you really wanted to be up.

You dressed for the day, needing to run some of your aunt's things to the storage unit in town. 

When you had moved in, there was an abundance of stuff everywhere. After living here for a month, you had managed to pack it all into boxes and take it to the storage unit until you could find the time to go through it and decide what you wanted to keep or donate. 

You had a feeling you would end up donating it all like you did with your grandparents things, except the sentimental stuff of course. 

Your aunt liked to collect figurines and paintings of the woods and wildlife. You thought it was odd, since she quite literally lived in a home that was surrounded by woods and all she had to do if she missed it was just look outside. 

The paintings were of various animals, a few bears, a duck or two but the largest painting she had was of a large gray wolf. 

The painting was massive and in a thick dark wood frame that matched the wooden paneling on the walls. It took up most of the living room just behind the couch, positioned in a way where you would have no choice but to make eye contact with it as soon as you walked in the door. 

You took it down the day you moved in. The yellow eyes painted onto the beast seemed to follow you with every step you took in the trailer. 

So you were getting rid of it.

It had spent its time since you moved in with it propped against the wall with a sheet draped over it. You decided today was the day to finally drag it out to your car and pray that it fit into the backseat. 

You propped the front door and screen door open with the heaviest boot you had and grabbed the painting to drag it outside. 

You got it halfway through the door when something on your front porch had you pausing. 

At your feet, on the wooden planks that made up the porch were large muddy paw prints. Whatever animal it had come from was massive. The prints were larger than your own hand, making your shiver a the realization that whatever it was came right to your front door when you were blissfully unaware in your bed. 

Despite the sun shining, you now had an ominous feeling in your spine. 

You quickly pushed the painting back inside, letting the doors fall shut behind you.. 

You’d take the painting tomorrow instead. 

You got off work again when it was dark. 

Thankfully there was no rain this time. 

You were able to scrub the paw prints off your porch and take the painting to the storage unit this morning before work. 

After discovering the muddy prints at your doorstep the day before, you locked yourself in your house and rethought your move to Hawkins. 

You had spent all last night tossing and turning in your bed in fear of what could be lurking outside. You had probably gotten up and checked the lock on the front door at least five times before finally dozing off into a restless sleep. 

But you had made it through the night and when you checked outside this morning only the old paw prints remained with no new signs of your visitor. 

You turned down the curvy road to head to your side of town. 

Today had gone back to normal with Tina and Jessie back to their normal selves with no talk of the guy that had broken Tina’s heart. 

Now that you were farther from the center of town, there were more trees and less houses. You were the only car on the road, the last headlights you had seen were a few miles back. 

You were so close to your home when you saw something large run through the road. 

You slammed on your brakes, the tires locking up and squealing as the car skidded and stopped with a jerk. 

Your heart raced as you tried to calm down. Your eyes scanned the road, looking for whatever it was that was just there. 

You slammed your hand on the off button on your radio, silencing The Rolling Stones abruptly. 

Through the flickering headlights, you could make out something standing on the left side of the road. It slowly stalked into view until you were leaning back in your seat, frozen from fear. 

It was the biggest damn wolf you had ever seen in your life. And it was standing right infront of your car, staring straight into your eyes. 

It was hard to see in the poor lighting, but its coat was somewhere between a midnight black and a chocolate brown. It was tall, taller than your car. It kept its head hunkered down low to look at you in the driver's seat. 

You wondered if you should break eye contact but you were pretty sure that you had seen somewhere that you were supposed to act like you were bigger when you came face to face with a wild animal. 

Although you were in your car, you were sure that if it wanted to get you it could. Hell, you were sure that it could crush this thing with a flick of its tail if it wanted to. 

A loud howl came from the right of your car. You jumped, foot easing off the brake and making the car lurch forward. You slammed your foot back down, stopping the car before it could hit the animal.

The wolf blinked a few times, not even flinching. It turned, slowly stalking to the right side of the road and giving you time to move. 

You felt its eyes on you as you sped off past it. 

Yeah, Hawkins was really fucking weird. 

Next Chapter

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson au #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #eddie stranger things #eddie munson series #werewolf!eddiemunson #fuckboy!eddie munson #eddie munson angst

[specialagentlokitty]

Ziva x teen!reader - just soldiers

So teen reader has grown up in a rough family. It was basically run like a military; get up at the crack of dawn, do all these military base training even when they were like a child. Have a strict schedule to follow every day that they become a robot basically and any sense of being a normal teen thrown out the window. Teen reader is on a field trip with their class to NCIS for their history class talking about laws and every thing. They are in the bullpen where Ziva and the team is. Ziva takes notice to the teen reader and how they seem distant from all the other kids. Maybe something happens and it triggers teen reader to go into that military mindset (like a loud noise or arguing or whatever you want). Ziva knows a thing or two about the military mindset because of her dad and helps teen reader calm down and come back to reality. - @offspringoflordwinter 💜

TW: mentions of abusive and controlling parent

Standing in the middle of the floor with the rest of your class, you had your hands clasped behind your back as you just observed everybody else.

You had no real interest in this trip, you had no interest in becoming an NCIS agent, but your father said he would be busy today, and decided this trip would be a good way to keep you occupied.

“Are you interested in forensics?” A woman asked.

You glanced up at her but said nothing.

“I’m agent Ziva David, what’s your name?”

You turned away, going back to what you were doing.

One of the other students looked over, snickering a little bit.

“They won’t tell you anything, (Y/N)s weird. Never talks. A freak.”

Ziva looked back at you, then she walked back over to her boss who was also stood there watching you.

“Anything?”

“No, another student mentioned their name is (Y/N), but that’s it.”

Gibbs slowly nodded his head.

“I spoke to the teacher, she said she didn’t know much about (Y/N), calm student, occasionally had issues with being suspended for fighting.”

“Gibbs I recognise that look.”

“I know you do…”

You grew disinterested in standing there, and you made your way back into hallway, standing by the wall.

You ran over your daily routine in your head, checking to make sure you knew what you had to do.

Everybody made their way back up to the bullpen, and you stood to the back of your class.

Pulling up the sleeve to your shirt, you have a look at the time, and walked over to your teacher.

“Ma’am, I need to have my lunch now.”

“Yes, of course. Do you mind eating up here?”

“No ma’am.”

She nodded, and you sat down against one of the desks, opening up your lunch box so you could eat.

You have ten minutes to eat your lunch, then you had to do your afternoon work out, then finish your homework just after.

Usually you would then have afternoon classes, but since you were here that went out the window meaning that you had a few free hours.

After finishing your lunch, you stood up, walking back over to your teacher.

“Ma’am, I need to do my training.”

“Oh, is there any way you can skip it for today? I know you use the gym but we don’t have that here.”

“No ma’am. I have to follow my schedule.”

She sighed heavily, gesturing for you to follow her and you did.

She spoke to Gibbs, who was looking at you the whole time.

“We have an empty interrogation room you can use, we can’t give you entrance to the gym.”

“That’s fine sir, I can work around that.”

He nodded.

“Ziva will take you.”

“Thank you.”

You followed behind Ziva, and you rolled your sleeves up, getting ready to start your work out.

“How many push ups can you do?”

“A good solider must be able to do at least 50 push in a row. If you cannot then you are weak. Father does not tolerate weakness.”

Ziva nodded her head, leaning back against the wall.

“What does your father consider weakness?”

“Being sick is weak, crying is weak, being in pain is weak. A strong person must be able to go beyond their limits and not complain.”

Ziva listened to you carefully.

“Are you a solider?”

“Yes ma’am.”

You finished your push ups, and started doing some sit ups.

“How long have you been a soldier for?”

“My whole life.”

She nodded again.

There was no sign of emotion in your voice, nothing on your face.

You were the perfect soldier, just like she was.

Designed to follow your orders without complaint, to not be able to think for yourself, no thought about being a teenager, partying, drinking, all the normal things teenagers do.

You stood up, and rolled your shoulders slightly, turning around to face Ziva with your hands clasped behind your back.

“Do you have any friends?”

“Soldiers have no need for friends, they are useless and only weigh down the missions.”

“What is your mission?”

“I have no assignment right now.”

“But you have had one?”

“No. I do not receive my first mission until my 18th year.”

You studied Ziva quietly for a moment, looking her up and down.

“You are like me.”

“Yes.”

You looked at your watch, rolling your sleeves back down, doing them back up and you straightened your shirt.

“Why did you abandon your mission?”

“Because there is more to life than being a soldier for somebody else.”

“This place has made you weak.”

“Is that what you think?”

You nodded your head, leaving through the open door.

You walked back to your class with Ziva walking alongside you.

She didn’t say anything else, and neither did you you just rejoined your class, standing to the side of them all.

You were just watching when a loud bang from nearby made you spin around, a few of your fellow students began laughing loudly.

But you had jumped into fight mode, so when one of them rushed to run past you, you grabbed his arm, throwing him to the ground as you pinned him.

“(Y/N) let him go!” Your teacher yelled.

You said nothing, pinning your fellow student further into the ground.

You felt a hand on your shoulder and you spun around, standing up you grabbed the man by the arm, spinning around with so much force your threw him to the ground as well.

“(Y/N), look at me that’s an order.”

You snapped your head to Ziva.

You seemed to recognise her as some sort of authority, and you stood up straight, clasping your hands behind your back.

But you were still on guard.

“You cannot attack your fellow students.”

“He is a threat.”

“He was just playing a joke on you.” Gibbs said.

There was another loud noise, and you dissociated from them all, spinning around you charged at the person responsible for it.

He was pulled away from you, and you stood there, fists in the air ready to attack anybody that came after you.

Ziva walked over, hands raised in the air.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.”

You took a swing for her and she dodged it, moving to the side and you followed her.

Ziva was raised like you, she knew how to predict an attack and how to avoid it.

She grabbed your wrist, and you swung yourself back, sweeping your leg under hers to get yourself free and you crouched down, grabbing her shirt.

You raised tour fist and tried to punch her, but she caught it, eyes locked with hers.

“There is no threat to you here…” she whispered.

“Everybody is a threat.”

“No. No they’re not. You’re safe, either federal agents and teenagers whom I’m sure cannot even begin to match your level.”

She offered the smallest of smiles.

“There is no threat.”

She slowly sat up, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“You need to breathe. Focus. Breath.”

You went to pull you hand away.

“Don’t. I am older than you and I have had far more training.” She warned.

You nodded.

You were a soldier yes, but your father told you not to confront somebody who you knew you wouldn’t have a chance to attack.

Not yet anyway.

So you sat down, crossing your legs as you took a small breath.

“Focus on me, nobody else.”

Ziva let go of you, but she was ready to jump into action in case you went to attack somebody else.

You slowly breathed in and out, eyes locked with hers.

“Ignore everybody else, they’re not important.”

You nodded your head.

Ziva carried on leading you through the breathing you had to do in order to calm yourself down.

“Come with me.”

Ziva stood up, and you followed after her, letting her take you to a conference room where you were able to freely pace back and forth.

Ziva stood by the door so you couldn’t run away.

She realised that you were a danger, your solider mindset was going to put somebody in danger, you were going to seriously hurt somebody or worse.

You didn’t necessarily know that you were going to hurt somebody, but it was still a factor.

You wouldn’t care if you did either, you wouldn’t think twice about it if it meant protecting yourself.

At this rate Ziva was sure you were going to land yourself in prison before you even reached being an adult.

“I can help you.”

You paused pacing, turning your attention to her.

“I do not need help.”

“You do, because you shouldn’t have to live like this. You are not a soldier, you are a child.”

“I am a soldier, that is what I will always be.”

Ziva shook her head.

“No, you can be so much more.”

“No.”

She sighed.

“Unfortunately we cannot let you return home.”

“Okay.”

You sat down in a chair, placing your hands on the table.

You showed no objection, and that’s where your father had messed up.

You didn’t care if he was taken away from you, you had no attachment to him, or anybody else for that matter.

You would carry on.

Just like this.

Until it killed you.

Just like she used to.

And she wasn’t about to let that happen to you

#ncis #ncis x reader #ncis x you #ncis imagine #Ziva David #Ziva David x reader #Ziva David x you #Ziva David imagine

[ms-demeanor]

hello! sorry to bother w this but im sort of desperate at this point. given your post about school abuse: so like. i had a similar experience and i thought that i had sorted my brain out. BUT. big but. now im trans and every time i have to correct people w/ misgender or come out to people that i dont already know their opinion on the issue, i get an anxiety attack that makes me unable to do it. ive told many therapists and no one so far has understood why im terrified of making stuff that other people can perceive as me being difficult to work with. would you have *any* advice? thanks!

Okay so first of all it is totally valid to feel that way; that isn't an irrational response, that is your body and brain going "!!!! I have learned this lesson before!" But just because it's a sensible response doesn't mean it's functional in the long term, which is why it needs to be addressed (which I'm sure you already know, I'm just explaining for people in the back).

So now here is some meandering advice:

Spend time with people you already know you can trust. It's okay to take a break from new people and situations (as much as is possible) when you are processing traumatic events and learning to care for yourself. Spending time with people who you don't have to come out to, who don't misgender you, can help you normalize being out and correctly gendered to yourself.

Recognize that you don't have to be out to everyone and some assholes aren't worth it. This is going to depend some on the context, but you don't owe everybody an explanation for yourself and if people repeatedly misgender you after being corrected you may just be better off not spending time around those people.

Loop in trusted people in low-stakes ways. If you get the sense that someone who you think is pretty safe has misgendered you on accident, it might still feel too intimidating to correct them in person but it might be a good idea to follow up with text or a call or a message to say "hey, just FYI, I think I heard you use a/b pronouns for me earlier, I just wanted to let you know that I use c/d pronouns. Did you want to meet up again next week?" the breakdown on why I think this is effective is - Distance means you're safe - nonthreatening "FYI" means you aren't saying "I'm offended" and assumes good faith from the other person - feels less accusatory (not that you need to tone police yourself, but if you're trying to lower the stress level overall then assuming it was a mistake and letting them know you don't think it was on purpose should reduce the overall tension) - request to meet up again or topic switch to something lighter once again says "I'm not mad, that was just regular information, we can now return to our scheduled programming"

I think that, generally speaking, this is also a decent way to come out to people if you're nervous; physically remote and emotionally casual can be a good place to work from (even if you're actually panicking in your head but you can pull off casual in a written message)

Find (or create) a space where people are 100% going to support you. If you need to create a discord server, if you need to schedule a regular coffee date with trusted friends or family members, whatever it is, give yourself a space where you are unconditionally supported and can have people to bounce ideas and concerns off of. Even if it's just you and one other person, it's good to know you have *someone* who you can say "I think I want to tell this other person to use my pronouns but it's scary" to and know that you're not at risk in any way. I'd say try to make sure that you're still interacting with people outside of that space, but have a space to retreat to where you can just drop the worry.

Recognize that somebody else's problem is not a reflection of you. If you have, for instance, a coworker who is being a piece of shit and refusing to recognize your gender, that is not a reflection of your gender that is a reflection of them being a piece of shit. If there is a classmate or a sibling who uses the wrong pronouns after being corrected that doesn't mean you're not entitled to your pronouns that means they are being a piece of shit. Some people are just not going to accept you and that's on them. Try to minimize your time spent with them and if you have to spend time with them at work take steps to ensure your safety, but don't fight losing battles with assholes.

It really is legitimately scary. You have good reasons to be scared and you are doing a very frightening thing (and not to do the meme thing but you are legitimately being so brave about it; the fact that you are reaching out and asking anyone for help, including randos on the internet, means that you are taking steps to doing the scary thing and that is SO GOOD and I'm really proud of you for making the effort in spite of the fear).

Here is some less meandering advice:

Practice. Talk to yourself in the mirror, practice with friends, practice with your therapist. Practice coming out to yourself in a casual way. Practice correcting your pronouns. Practice an introduction for yourself that explains the information you want to give to new people you might meet. Get it down to a quick little patter, get it to be something that's easy to say to yourself in the mirror first, then try it with friends for practice, then try it around the safer people you might want to give the information to. It'll get easier as you go.

Look for a local support group (or an online support group). If there's a local LGBTQ+ center you should see if they've got events going on or a support group you can join or workshops or any manner of social thing where you can go interact with people who have been through similar stuff.

Journal. Each time you find yourself frightened of talking to someone about your gender, do what you need to to get through the day and then sit down and think about that interaction. Write down what happened, write down what you were thinking. Was there something in particular that made you anxious? Is it something you can practice addressing? Was there something you noticed about the person that made you uncomfortable? Is that a common thread in the times you have trouble talking about this? If you're able to narrow down specifically what is making it hard to speak to some people that might make it easier to explain to therapists but will also make it more actionable for you.

Here's some very optimistic advice:

If at all possible find a friend who will be rabid and unflinching in their support for you and hang out with them around new people. Get yourself an attack dog copilot who will cheerfully step up and make corrections for you. I know not everyone can do this and I know that if you can find someone like this they can't be around all the time, but it can be wonderfully reassuring to find that one person who you know is going to be ride or die about making sure that everyone in the room respects you. (Being that person for someone else can also teach you how to be that person for you)

[bellarkeselection]

We’re All Family Here

Reader is Carter’s younger sister and she has a prosthetic leg and the reader is worried that Rip and Beth will kick her off the ranch if they found out. Wattpad request from - @Quackity_bwead

Pulling down the Jean of my right leg I sighed staring at myself in the mirror that was in my room in Rip and Beth’s house. My brother Carter was already up for work in the barn but I got to sleep in this morning which was rare. Walking out of the house I headed to the barn with large Y above the doorway. The sun had just started to rise above the mountains and everybody was busy already working. Taking my horse out of the stall I climbed on feeling my fake leg hanging over. “Alright boy, let’s go.”

Kicking my horse we rode off towards the sunset with the wind running through my hair. I was wearing a tan dark cowgirl hat and my hair was tied in a braid. Riding through the fields I saw my older brother Carter who was trying to rope a cafe but it started running at me. “Y/n, watch out!” He cried when the cafe got underneath my horses leg and it spooked causing the horse to throw me off its back.

“Sis I’m sorry. I just couldn’t get a good hold on it.” My brother apologized coming over on his horse while Ryan rode past me to go grab my horse that had ran off somewhere else.

Rubbing the back of my neck I winced feeling some pain but it wasn’t as bas I have normally been through. Shifting my gaze away from my brother I saw that Rip was riding over to us. He dismounted his horse quickly dropping himself on a knee in front of me. “What the hell happened, kid. You can’t be injuring any of our guys!..are you hurt Y/n?”

“No just sore a little.” I shook my head not understanding why his deep brown eyes seemed to be filled with concern.

Rip moved closer to me touching my right leg and he pulled up the fabric of my pant. Once he saw something odd sticking out of your pant leg he knew something must be wrong. “Then what exactly is wrong with your leg here?” He questioned me where I finally noticed that he had seen my fake leg.

“I….uh….” I yanked my leg back feeling my face turn red being embarrassed over this. Carter wasn’t with me the night of the accident. I was just driving back to our place with our dead beat dad until someone rear ended me harshly.

Rip saw that I wasn’t going to answer him so he called to Ryan who had brought back my horse. “Ryan, take her back to the ranch.” Getting to my feet I climbed back on my horse and followed the ranch hand back to the ranch then he went back to work like Rip had asked him.

Laying on my bed inside my room I stared at the ceiling in silence and a pit of nervousness. Sitting upright I knew I had messed up or more so my brother had. I had done my best to keep the fact that I had a prosthetic leg a secret. In fear that if they knew I would be removed from the ranch. Someone came down the hallway and I lifted my head up seeing it was Beth. “Hi mom….uh what’s up?” I nervously asked since she had just started letting me call her that.

“I heard about your fall today from Rip. I’m happy you shook it off but we need to talk about something.” She entered the bedroom before I saw that Rip was also walking in behind her heels.

Playing with my thumbs in my lap I avoided their gazes when they came to sit down on the bed. Well Beth did leaving Rip standing directly in front of me. “So are you going to tell me about your leg or no?”

“I don’t really want to talk about it…” I gulped trailing off in my response already knowing the answer they would give me.

It was hard enough for Carter to prove that he would be a good worker. I already was a good hand but the fake leg wasn’t a good look. John Dutton had the greatest ranch in Montana and that means he should have close to the best people working for him. “You better tell us otherwise things will get ugly.” Beth warned me with her annoyed look and I froze knowingly.

"It's...it's about my prosthetic leg..." Rolling my pants leg, I made it visible to their gaze, and I didn't dare make eye contact with either of them. "I didn't want to tell you about it because I've been sp terrified of what you would say. Even though I get my work done, nobody else on this ranch has one. So I....just assumed that you would kick me off the ranch over it."

Rip put his hands on his hips, tilting my head to the side slightly. "That's totally ridiculous, Y/n. We would never do that."

"This family may be complicated, but we don't abandon our family members." Beth shifted on her spot on the bed, grasping my hand in hers.

Hanging my mouth open I couldn't believe it. "Really but I thought that-"

"That what us having some cowboys from the prison and others in debt wouldn't have given you the message that we take in the trouble so they can have a home." Rip declared, coming to sit down beside me, tucking hair behind my ear.

I parted my lips without thinking I fling my arms around his neck hugging him tightly. Rip stiffened up at the embrace but calmed down after a second and wrapped his arms around me with the same comfort. “Thank you….I didn’t think you would let me stay.” I sniffed against his chest.

“Anyone who has a problem with that will have to deal with me.” Beth responded after I hugged her and she actually hugged me back too to my surprise. I smiled at the pair knowing that Carter and I were gonna do really good here. This wasn’t just a rnhc, it was a family for everybody.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

#rip wheeler x reader #rip wheeler #beth dutton #rip x beth #carter yellowstone #yellowstone series #yellowstone #yellowstone imagine #yellowstone masterlist #yellowstone season 4 #Wattpad request #ask box is open for anything #comments really appreciated #cole hauser #kelly reilly

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I the asshole for watching a movie as a family without including my dad? Writing it out, I think I know the answer, but this has still been bugging me.

Around Thanksgiving I (30s) visited home. It was also a trip to see for my mom (late 60s) for her birthday, so I was there for a few days longer than a Thanksgiving trip would normally account for. My brother (30s) and his wife (30s) visited for her birthday too. My dad (early 70s) was there as well. They've been married over 30 years. Originally I'd planned to take everybody out to see a movie as a birthday present for my mom...but it turned out there was literally nothing at the theater that my mom was interested in at all. The town is pretty small, and the options were limited. So instead, we started out with a nice dinner, and family board game run-through of a trivia game we all thought we'd have some fun with. My mom ended up winning, which is rare and was not deliberate, and it wrapped the game up way faster than we'd anticipated.

My dad immediately went back into the living room after the game ended, openly a little annoyed that mom had won a trivia game based on something he considers himself the family expert in. He watches old reruns of the show he's seen a million times on a loop every day, and it can be pulling teeth to get him to do anything else. It was just a fluke, but something the rest of us considered a pleasant surprise since none of us had expected she'd win. But he was annoyed. Given that it was still early, Mom suggested we find a movie to watch online, so we could all wind down before bed with something the whole family could enjoy.

Dad said no. Now this feels like important context: I...have a lot of problems with my dad. I love him, but he can be extremely emotionally immature. Downright verbally abusive at times. And very petty. I'm in therapy in no small part due to some of the insecurities he instilled in me over the years. I've worked hard to set basic boundaries with him. He also has multiple medical issues, and I'm pretty sure he has untreated depression and other mental health problems he refuses to acknowledge that contribute to him flying off the handle at a moment's notice. That, combined with the fact that my mom will 100% never, ever leave him, because she was raised in a very specific mindset that she's never been fully able to shake...means my brother and I usually have to grit our teeth when he starts ranting/yelling/complaining during a visit, or we'd just end up ruining the day for our mom. She's done so much for us, and we just wanted her to have a good visit. So, that's what I did for most of the trip. I breathed deep when my dad openly mocked my stutter, and refused to get in a fight about it. I stopped myself from getting visibly upset when he tried to feed my cat table scraps even when I told him the cat needs a special diet. On other days I tried to watch his old shows with him, and ignored the sexist comments he'd make about the female leads, all for the sake of keeping the peace.

But, it was Mom's birthday. And she wanted to watch a movie.

And Dad said no.

He refused to give up his marathon of old westerns from 60 years ago to watch a new movie with his family on the big tv in the living room.

My mom seemed disappointed, so I suggested we watch one on my laptop in the kitchen instead. Without my dad, if he really wanted to watch his show instead. She agreed, and my brother, his wife, my mom and I filed into the kitchen, sat in less-than-comfy chairs, and watched a fantasy heist film that I'd thought they would all enjoy. And they did. My brother was pleasantly surprised at the quality of the movie (I'd already vouched for it being good, none of the others had seen it previously) His wife kept making notes for her dnd campaign. My mom found it hilarious, and liked that some actors from another show she liked were in it.

My dad stayed in the living room, watching his marathon.

Partway through the movie, he came in and asked us what we were watching. We told him, and he passed through the kitchen for something he needed, then said that we were being too loud. More context: the kitchen is right next to the living room, but my dad turns the tv up so loud in there it can get physically painful to be in the room with him. He refuses to get hearing aides, and only recently relented on subtitles. He also has a habit of screaming at anyone who tries to talk for a long time when his shows are on and they're in earshot, even if they're in a different room. We thought he couldn't hear it over his tv, and so when he said something we said sorry and that we'd try to keep it down, but we could already barely hear it through the laptop speakers. We already had subtitles turned on to make sure we didn't miss anything. When we told him that, he got even more annoyed. He asked how we'd like it if he turned the tv up so loud we couldn't understand anything, then proceeded to go into the living room and do just that, just as I was trying to figure out how much more we could lower the volume without losing our whole experience. We called in that we were already turning it down, and he finally turned his volume back down as well. We finished our movie, turning the volume down during action scenes and up during speaking scenes so we could actually hear the dialog. We enjoyed the rest of the film, and then people started getting ready for bed, and my mom went to check on my dad. She told me a few minutes later that he was hurt that we'd watched the movie without him. That he felt left out. I told her that he'd had multiple opportunities to join us, and that is was his choice not to watch with us. And honestly, the fact that he wouldn't give up the real tv for a couple hours so she could have a birthday movie was really upsetting to me.

She still seemed to feel bad that he was left out, and I'm a little worried that he might've sulked for days afterwards, leaving my mom in an even more stressful environment after I left. Am I the asshole for insisting my mom get to watch a movie on her birthday? And would I be the asshole if I told my dad off for what I consider to be extremely selfish behavior?

Also before anyone asks, no, I'm not cutting him off. It's literally impossible to do that without pretty much cutting off my mom as well, and she absolutely doesn't deserve that. And yes, I've offered up my apartment as a place she can stay if she ever needs to. Repeatedly. She hasn't taken me up on it yet.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[nightwolf14292]

Damian Wayne Appreciation Post??

To be honest, I don't really understand why some people dislike Damian so much? To be fair, the only comic I've read about him is Batman: Son of Batman, but from that one alone, I just don't get it. I mean I read on the wiki that he was pretty hard on Dick when Dick was acting as Batman, but I haven't read that myself (Also it makes sense, he was grieving the supposed death of his father, of course he wouldn't take kindly to Dick pretending to be Bruce/Batman)

But really, it seems like Damian(in this comic at least), just wants to make his parents proud and be useful.

And yeah, he beheaded the Spook and beat up Tim(/not as badly Alfred), but like he says, it's how he was taught!

He did what he did, because in the League of Assassins you fought to move up the ranks. He beat up Tim, because if Tim was a League member, this would've been common practice. Him beating up his 'rival' member, to take their higher rank. But even after beating Tim up, he makes it obvious that he just wants to be of use to Bruce. This is also why he killed the Spook, because in the League there was certainly not a 'no kill' rule, and in his mind, killing the Spook means the Spook can't hurt anyone else.

And yeah, if I was Damian and I was being almost killed in training sessions and then being hooked up to weird machines and rejuvenated with what is probably water from the Lazarus Pit (I mean, it's glowing green water so that's what I assume), which supposedly messes with people's minds and the rates in which they heal/age, I'd probably act the same way.

At the end of the day, he's still somewhat of a normal kid. Here's him asking his mom to look at the cool thing he's doing, like a kid wanting their mom to look at a drawing they made:

And here's him just wanting to live a life with both Bruce and Talia as a family, not wanting to choose, sort of like your average kid with 'divorced' parents:

All in all, yeah, Damian has flaws. All good characters do! But I don't think that warrants people to hate him, though. But, at the end of the day, everybody has their own opinions so it's okay if you don't like him, these are just my thoughts!

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