#I struggle with these things more than some of the others on our end

[leftoverghosts]

i am drowning

there is no sign of land.

Patrick's announcement hit you like a tennis ball to the gut. He had just gotten back from winning the junior US Open, but instead of celebrating together, he was ending things between you. The sharp sting of disappointment cut through your heart as you struggled to make sense of it all. This wasn't the end of your relationship, though.

patrick zweig x reader. patrick x tashi. mentioned tashi x art.

warnings: angst. like angst for the sake of angst. sex at the end. some curse words. not for minors. p in v sex. use of she/her for reader. no use of y/n. patrick sleeps with reader for a bed.

nori says: hiiiiiii, i've been lurking in the challengers tag and now have something to contribute. this is heavily inspired by the break up scene in whiplash. it just feels so patrick coded. also, i love tashi, it's not her fault that the boys were weird about her. send me ideas if you want to! xoxo.

word count: 4,818

2006, September. Per Se Restaurant, Manhattan.

“Also, Patrick has a girlfriend.” Art had told Tashi, and Patrick had responded with “I do not”.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

“I can’t believe your dad let us use his reservations. This is the coolest thing ever! I feel so grown up,” a cheerful voice interrupts Patrick’s thoughts, pulling him back to the present moment. Sitting across from you now, celebrating his triumphant win at the Junior US Open, he can't ignore the guilt and doubts that gnaw at him. Though you were never officially a couple, there were undeniable feelings between you two and Patrick had pursued you relentlessly. He couldn't resist your sweetness, especially since you’ve been friends for so long and despite being just a teenage boy with wandering eyes fixed on tennis skirts, even he understands that you genuinely care about him.

Patrick thinks with all the agony that the thing between his legs can muster, that he’s an asshole, that he shouldn’t of fucked up this situationship only to chase after a girl who made him compete for her attention. Part of him hates himself for betraying your trust and pining after someone else, but the other part of him is drawn to Tashi in a way he can't explain. She gets him, but more importantly, she understands true tennis.

Patrick fidgets with his cup of water, tracing your name on the condensation as if it holds some sort of salvation. But deep down, he knows that no amount of apologies or excuses can change what he has done.

"Listen, I have to be honest with you," Patrick finally speaks up, his voice strained with emotion.

You pause, feeling a sense of unease settle in your stomach as you wait for him to continue.

"I can't keep pretending that this is going to work out. My dreams of becoming a professional tennis player are consuming more and more of my time and focus. And when I am with you, all I can think about is training and winning matches."

As his confession sinks in, your world tilts on its axis. The realization hits you with startling clarity - his passion for tennis surpasses everything else in his life, casting a shadow over what bloomed between you. You always knew that tennis was important to Patrick, but you never fully understood just how significant it was until now. Your mind flashes back to all the times you thought tennis was just a hobby for him, a way to cope with his parents' high expectations. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you realize that this is not how you imagined your relationship with Patrick ending. You try to hold back your emotions, but they overflow despite your best efforts.

"You'll probably start feeling like I'm ignoring you and get mad that tennis is more important to me than our relationship," he continues, regret evident in his eyes. "And if you ask me to ease up on my training, I won't be able to comply because this is my passion. It's what I was born to do."

"Where is this coming from, Pat?" you ask, your voice trembling with hurt. You had never wanted to come between Patrick and his dreams, but now it seems like there was no other option.

“It’s been building up for a while.” In the midst of shattered expectations and unspoken regrets, Patrick's gaze meets yours fleetingly before retreating, unable to withstand the weight of your hurt and disappointment. The truth hangs heavy in the air - priorities laid bare, futures diverging like roads leading into different horizons. "Because sooner or later, we will start resenting each other for not understanding our priorities. It's better to end things now before they turn toxic."

"I can't believe this, I thought we were in this together." Your palms are clammy and your heart races as you try to process everything. You had been nothing but supportive of him, rearranging your schedule whenever he came home from the academy just to spend time with him. But now he’s telling you that it wasn't enough.

"We were, but I wanna be one of the greats.” He sighs.

“And would I stand in your way?”

“Yeah.”

“You know I would, you're sure about that?” You ask, wishing this would just stop. “Yes.” He reaches out to take your hand, but you pull away, unable to bear his touch after what he's done. "I'm sorry," he mutters, his face contorted with guilt and sadness, and the knowledge that he’s a liar. That this conversation is only happening because he’s chasing greatness and Tashi Duncan.

"I'm just a naive girl to you, aren't I? Someone who will never measure up to your grand ambitions.” As the words tumbled out of your mouth, your voice quivers with hurt and disbelief. You couldn't comprehend how someone that you love could make you feel so worthless. “You'll leave me behind as you chase after greatness," you cried out, feeling utterly small and insignificant in his eyes. “You don’t understand me. You never have." His accusation is like sharp, dagger-like punctuation mark, ready to cut off any lingering hopes and pierce through the heart of your relationship.

You look at him, feeling a mix of anger and heartache. "Why did you even bother pursuing me then? If your tennis career was always going to come first?"

"I'm sorry," he finally says, his voice heavy with remorse. "I never should have said those things."

His apology hangs in the air, hollow and insufficient. The bustling restaurant fades into the background as you try to comprehend the sudden change in your reality.

"Sorry doesn't fix this, Patrick," you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Patrick runs a hand through his curly hair, frustration etched across his face. "I know, I know. I'm messing everything up. It's just... there's so much pressure. The tennis, my parents, the academy. And now..."

He trails off, leaving the sentence unfinished. You lean forward, searching his face.

"And now what, Pat? What aren't you telling me?"

Patrick's blue eyes meet yours for a moment before darting away. "There's someone else," he admits quietly.

Your heart shatters into a million pieces, each shard piercing your chest with unbearable pain. The revelation hits you like a serve you never saw coming, leaving you breathless and disoriented. You struggle to find words, your mind reeling from the betrayal.

"Someone else?" you finally manage to choke out, your voice barely audible over the clinking of glasses and murmur of conversation around you. "Who?"

Patrick shifts uncomfortably in his seat, avoiding your gaze. "Her name is Tashi. We met at a party after the tournament. She's... she understands tennis in a way that—"

The name strikes a chord of recognition. Tashi Duncan. You've heard whispers about her – the rising star in the tennis world, known for her fierce determination and unmatched skill on the court. Suddenly, everything clicks into place. The late-night phone calls, the distracted looks, the growing distance between you and Patrick

"That I never could," you finish for him, bitter understanding washing over you. Of course. Of course it would be someone from his world, someone who could match his ambition step for step.

"I think she could make me really happy," Patrick says, his voice pleading for you to just get it.

“You know, I really do hope that you make it. I hope you get to be number one or whatever,” You let out a wet scoff, he could have at least let you finish your meal. “But I’m glad that I’ll never understand you, Patrick.”

With those words, the conversation comes to a halt as you both sit in stunned silence. The waitress brings over your food, but neither of you have an appetite anymore. Patrick pushes his plate away, his stomach churning with guilt and regret. He realizes now that breaking things off like this is a mistake, he’s a coward, he shouldn’t have met up with you in person.

2019, August. Parking lot of a Roadside motel, New Rochelle.

Patrick slams his fist against the side of his beat-up Volkswagen Tiguan in frustration, feeling the sting of anger and disappointment course through him. His phone remains pressed to his ear, waiting for you to pick up, but it rings on with no answer. He begins and deletes a desperate text to you, twice, before finally you're calling back and he answers on the first ring. “Hey! Got a weird favor to ask you. Your new place is near Westchester, right?” His voice trembles with nervousness as he taps his fingers anxiously against the car door.

“A whole year, that’s a new record for you. Run out of money already?”

“Shit,” he swears under his breath, trying to use some charm or magic to convince you. “You know how the tour goes. I’ve been struggling to stay afloat. But uh, how’ve you been?” He forces a smile through the grimace as he thinks about his current financial state - a checking account with only $70 left. It’s a far cry from the greatness he once promised he was leaving you to pursue.

“Go to hell, Patrick.” The line goes dead and he pulls the phone away from his face, staring at it in disbelief as if willing you to call back. He knows you, so he waits anxiously until a notification with your name appears again on the screen, accompanied by a new address.

Same day. Private residence, Bronxville.

Everyone knows that Patrick's parents have stopped providing financial support for him, and even though your own father would be furious if he knew you were aiding this deadbeat, you can't bring yourself to let him go without. It's only the occasional bit of cash for gas or food, but Patrick always finds a way to repay you in ways that you didn’t even know you needed. There is an unspoken agreement between the two of you that hangs heavily in the air.

Despite everything, you can't turn him away completely, even knowing he will never truly change. Tennis is his first, great love and with the Donaldsons in town, you can't help but think Tashi might still be his second. And you, you are nothing more than a temporary lifeline – a benefactor to someone who will never truly appreciate your sacrifices.

His heart races with guilt and desperation as he parks his car and approaches your door. He knows he doesn't deserve your help, but the familiarity of these meetings brings a sense of safety.

You watch from your living room window as Patrick's battered Volkswagen pulls into your driveway. The sight of him emerging from the car, all scruffy charm and desperate energy, sends a familiar pang through your chest. You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for the encounter to come.

As Patrick approaches, you open the door before he can knock. He stands there, looking simultaneously sheepish and hopeful, his eyes searching your face.

"Hey," he says, his voice soft. "Thanks for... you know."

You scoff at his attempt at gratitude, your bitterness cutting through the air like a knife. "Is that supposed to be a thank you? I didn't know you knew how to use manners," you retort, your tone dripping with resentment. It's not like you to be so angry, but Patrick always has a way of bringing out the worst in you.

You step aside, allowing him to enter and close the door after him. Patrick's eyes dart around your new place, taking in the tasteful decor and the obvious signs of your success.

"Nice place," he comments, his voice tinged with a hint of envy.

You shrug, maintaining your emotional distance. "It serves its purpose."

Patrick nods, fidgeting with the hem of his worn t-shirt. The silence stretches between you, thick with unspoken words and shared history.

At thirty-two years old, in the final stages of your cardiology fellowship, your father still treats you like a child who is expected to become an astronaut neurosurgeon, or some other fantastical career straight out of a Barbie movie. Meanwhile, your mother constantly laments about not having any grandchildren to spoil, as if that is the sole purpose of your existence. You often snap back with sarcastic remarks, such as suggesting that your cat could use a new diamond-encrusted bowl, a sharp retort that only serves to deepen the tension between you. The truth is, you yearn for an escape just like Patrick did. If you had any talent for tennis, you would have run away long ago.

Patrick clears his throat, breaking the heavy silence. "I, uh... I really appreciate you helping me out. I know I don't deserve it, after everything."

You let out a humorless laugh, crossing your arms over your chest. "You're right. You don't deserve it. But here we are."

He takes a step closer, his gaze intense and pleading. "I never meant to hurt you. Everything just got so complicated, with tennis and Art and Tashi and—"

"Don't." You hold up a hand, cutting him off. "I don't want to hear about her. Or about tennis. I’m not sixteen drooling over you anymore. I don’t need to pretend that I care. That's your world, Patrick. It always has been."

He looks down, shame and regret etched across his handsome features. "I know. I fucked up. I fuck everything up."

Despite your anger and resentment, a part of you softens at his vulnerability. You've known Patrick for so long, seen him at his best and his worst. And even after all the heartbreak, there's still a connection between you that refuses to die.

"Why do you keep coming back here, Pat?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. "Why me?"

Patrick lifts his gaze to meet yours, and for a moment, you're transported back to that fateful dinner at Per Se, when your world first began to crumble.

"Because you're the only one who really knows me," he admits, his voice raw with emotion. "The only one who sees past the bullshit and the bravado. Even when I don't deserve it."

Your heart clenches at his words, the irony in them isn’t lost on you.

“I still hate you.” You say as you step forward and wrap your arms around him, feeling the solid warmth of his body against yours. Patrick stiffens for a moment before melting into the embrace, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. "For everything."

You close your eyes, allowing yourself this moment of vulnerability, of connection. Tomorrow, you'll go back to your separate lives - you to your fellowship and the weight of your parents' expectations, Patrick to his endless pursuit of tennis glory and the shadow of Art Donaldson. But tonight, in the quiet of your home, you can pretend that things are different, that the choices you've made haven't led you down such divergent paths.

As the embrace lingers, the air between you shifts, charged with a familiar tension. Patrick pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours, asking a silent question. Your breath catches in your throat as his gaze drops to your lips, and you know what comes next.

It's a dance you've done before, a temporary escape from the harsh realities of your lives. And as Patrick leans in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, you let yourself surrender to the moment, pushing aside the hurt and resentment that has festered for so long. His hands roam your body with a desperate urgency, as if trying to memorize every curve and contour before this fleeting connection inevitably fades away.

You melt into his touch, your own hands tangling in his curly black hair, pulling him closer. The kiss deepens, a clash of tongues and teeth. Patrick's fingers find the hem of your shirt, slipping beneath the fabric to caress the soft skin of your waist.

A moan escapes your lips as his touch ignites a fire within you, a burning desire that consumes rational thought. You tug at his clothes, needing to feel his skin against yours, to lose yourself in the physicality of the moment.

Patrick responds in kind, his lips trailing hot kisses down your neck as you head towards the bedroom. You stumble together, a tangle of limbs and half-shed clothing, until you fall onto the bed in a heap.

For a moment, you stare at each other, chests heaving, eyes dark with want. His lips trail scorching kisses down your neck, his stubble rasping against your sensitive skin.

"Pat," you gasp, arching into his touch as his hands touch wherever they can reach.

He pauses, hovering above you, his eyes dark with desire and something more, something akin to regret. "Tell me to stop," he whispers, his voice strained. "Tell me you don't want this."

But you can't. Because despite everything, the hurt and the anger and the years of distance, you do want this. You want him, even if it's just for tonight, even if it's a mistake you'll regret come morning.

"Don't stop," you breathe, pulling him back down to you.

Your shirt is discarded, followed by your bra, as Patrick's hands and mouth map the newly exposed skin. He lavishes attention on your breasts, his tongue swirling around each nipple until they peak into hardened buds. You writhe beneath him, your nails digging into his broad shoulders as the pleasure builds.

Patrick's lips trail lower, blazing a path down your stomach, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your jeans. He pauses, glancing up at you through his lashes, silently seeking permission. You lift your hips in response, and he tugs the denim down your legs, taking your panties with them.

Exposed and vulnerable, you fight the urge to cover yourself, to hide from the intensity of his gaze. But Patrick looks at you like you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, his eyes filled with a reverence that steals your breath.

"You're perfect," he murmurs, his hands skimming up your thighs, spreading them wider. "I never deserved you."

Before you can respond, his mouth is on you, his tongue delving into your folds, lapping at your most sensitive spots. You cry out, your back arching off the bed as he works you with expert precision, stoking the fire that burns within you.

Patrick slips a finger inside you, then two, curling them just so as his tongue continues its relentless assault on your clit. The dual sensations are almost too much to bear, and you feel yourself hurtling towards the edge, your body tensing in anticipation.

"Pat, I'm going to—" you gasp, your words cut off by a moan as he redoubles his efforts, determined to unravel you completely.

And then you're shattering, your orgasm crashing over you in waves of blinding ecstasy. Patrick works you through it, his fingers and tongue gentling as you come down from the high, your body trembling with aftershocks.

He crawls back up your body, pressing tender kisses to your skin as he goes. When he reaches your lips, you taste yourself on his tongue, a heady reminder of the intimacy you've just shared.

"I need you," you whisper against his mouth, your hands fumbling with the button of his jeans. "Please, Patrick."

He helps you undress him, kicking off his jeans and boxers until he's as bare as you are. His erection springs free, hard and heavy against his stomach, and you reach out to wrap your fingers around him, reveling in the velvety softness of his skin.

Patrick groans at your touch, his hips jerking forward involuntarily. "Condom," he grits out, reaching for his discarded basketball shorts.

You wait impatiently as he rolls the latex over his length, your body thrumming with anticipation. When he settles between your thighs again, the blunt head of his cock nudging at your entrance, teasing you with the promise of fullness. Your breath hitches as he slowly pushes forward, stretching you deliciously as he fills you inch by inch. A low moan escapes your lips at the exquisite sensation of him inside you, his thick length pulsing with need.

Patrick stills for a moment, giving you time to adjust, his forehead pressed against yours as he struggles to maintain control. "God, you feel incredible," he rasps, his voice strained with desire. "I've missed this. Missed you."

The confession tugs at your heart, a bittersweet reminder of the connection you once shared, the love that never quite died despite the pain and the years apart. You cling to him, your legs wrapping around his waist, urging him deeper.

He begins to move then, his hips rocking against yours in a steady rhythm that builds in intensity with each thrust. You meet him stroke for stroke, your bodies moving in perfect sync, as if no time has passed at all. The room fills with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, the mingled gasps and moans, the whispered words of encouragement and praise.

Patrick's mouth finds yours again, his kisses deep and demanding, as if he's trying to pour all of his unspoken emotions into the press of his lips. Your fingers tangle in his curly black hair, tugging lightly as the pleasure builds, coiling tighter and tighter within you.

He shifts the angle of his thrusts, hitting that spot deep inside you that makes stars explode behind your eyelids. You cry out, your nails raking down his back, leaving crescent-shaped marks in their wake. Patrick hisses at the sting, but it only seems to spur him on, his movements becoming more frantic, more forceful.

"Touch yourself," he commands, his voice rough with need. "I want to feel you come around me."

Obediently, you slip a hand between your bodies, feeling the heat and sweat radiating off of Patrick's skin. Your fingers glide lazily over his chest and down towards the area of need. However, unsatisfied with your own rhythm, Patrick's fingers boldly enter your mouth, collecting the saliva and making you involuntarily gag. Without hesitating, his fingers make their way back down to their intended destination, gently nudging yours out of the way. His thumb finds your clit, tracing tight circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves. The added stimulation sends electric shocks of pleasure coursing through your body, causing your inner walls to flutter around his throbbing cock.

You arch into his touch, your hands now exploring the hard planes of his chest, tracing the lines of his happy trail.

As Patrick moves within you, his eyes lock with yours, and for a moment, you can almost pretend that this means something more than a temporary escape, a fleeting connection in the midst of your fractured lives. But deep down, you know the truth.

This is all you can ever have with Patrick - stolen moments of passion, brief respites from the weight of your respective burdens. Tomorrow, you'll go back to being strangers, two people whose paths diverged long ago, held together only by the tenuous threads of history and desire.

With each deep thrust, Patrick stokes the fire building within you, pushing you closer to the brink of release. The fingers of his other hand dig into the soft flesh of your hips as he drives into you with increasing urgency, chasing his own climax.

"I'm close," he pants, his breath hot and ragged. "Give me another one. Come with me, baby. I’ve got you."

The endearment slips out unbidden, a echo of the past, of the tender moments you once shared. It's enough to send you tumbling over the edge, your walls clenching around him as euphoria floods your senses. Patrick follows a heartbeat later, a guttural groan tearing from his throat as he spills himself inside you, his hips jerking erratically with the force of his release.

As your breathing slows and reality seeps back in, the weight of your history, of all the unspoken words and unresolved hurt, settles heavily in the room. Patrick rolls off of you, disposing of the condom before collapsing onto the mattress and pulling you to him.

For a long moment, you lie tangled together, chests heaving, hearts racing in sync. Patrick's weight is a comforting presence, his face buried in the crook of your neck as the aftershocks of pleasure gradually subside.

But as the haze of desire dissipates, reality begins to seep in, cold and unforgiving. You feel Patrick tense against you, his body growing rigid as the magnitude of what you've done settles over him. He moves away from you, tugging on his boxers in swift, mechanical movements.

The silence that stretches between you is heavy with unspoken regrets, with the bitter knowledge that this changes nothing. You pull the sheet up to cover your nakedness, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable in the harsh light of aftermath.

You turn your head to look at him, taking in the familiar lines of his profile, the curl of his lashes against his cheek. "What are we doing, Pat?" you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

He sighs, running a hand through his sweat-dampened hair. "I don't know," he admits, his gaze fixed on the ceiling. "I just... I needed this. Needed you."

Your heart clenches at his words, a bittersweet mix of longing and resignation. You know you should put a stop to this, to the cycle of hurt and temporary solace that keeps bringing you back together. But the pull between you is too strong, the history too deep.

"I can't keep being your escape, Patrick," you say, your voice trembling slightly. "I can't keep pretending that this means something more than it does."

He turns to face you then, his lake blue eyes searching yours, a flicker of something raw and vulnerable in their depths. "What if it could?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. "What if we could make it mean something more?"

For a moment, you allow yourself to imagine it - a life where you and Patrick find a way to bridge the gap between your worlds, to build something real and lasting. But the dream fades as quickly as it forms, the harsh realities of your lives intruding once more.

"I wish things could be different," Patrick murmurs, his voice barely audible in the stillness of the room. "I wish I could be the man you deserve."

Your eyes search his face for a glimmer of the boy you once knew, the one who stole your heart with his reckless charm and unbridled ambition. "We both made our choices, Pat," you whisper, your fingers reaching over to brush a stray curl from his forehead. "We can't go back.”

Patrick moves to sit on the edge of the bed, his back to you, shoulders hunched with the weight of his thoughts. You watch him, your heart aching with a familiar longing, a desperate wish for things to be different.

“I don’t even know what you really want from me. I doubt you do either. You’re just latching onto me because I’m something steady to grab a hold of.” Your voice is soft, tentative. “Look at me, Pat.”

He flinches at the sound of his name, as if the mere utterance is a painful reminder of the intimacy you've just shared. "Don't," he says, his tone flat, emotionless. "Please, just… don't."

You swallow back the words that threaten to spill out, the confessions and pleas that will only fall on deaf ears. Because you know, deep down, that Patrick will never be yours, not in the way you want him to be. His heart belongs to the court, to the thrill of the game, to the relentless pursuit of greatness that has consumed him for as long as you've known him. And the more it alludes him, the more desperate he is to obtain it.

And you? You're just a temporary port in the storm, a fleeting respite from the chaos of his life. A reminder of the girl he left behind, the love he sacrificed on the altar of his ambition.

Patrick stands abruptly, reaching for his discarded clothes. He dresses quickly, efficiently, his movements sharp and purposeful. You watch him in silence, a lump forming in your throat as the weight of the moment settles over you.

“Will you stop?” You sit up, pulling the blanket around you. “Just sleep here for tonight, Pat. You’re being difficult for no reason.”

Patrick's steps falter as he turns to you, his grip tight on the fabric of his shirt. His face is a mix of anger and frustration, but then it transforms into a vulnerable expression that catches you off guard. He runs a hand through his hair before letting out a heavy sigh. "I know I shouldn't ask after what happened between us...but will you come watch me play tomorrow?"

[sobx9]

My five favourites Jiara fan fiction stories (because why not)

I would like to give the biggest kudos to fan fiction writers, especially in the Jiara fandom. Seriously, some of the works in this fandom are sooo good and we, fans, really appreciate you! Especially now, when the ship has basically ended in the show, it’s comforting to go back and read works where Jiara is happy/has a happy ending.

I envy you for being able to write that well. I have so many ideas, story lines, even dialogues for JJ and Kiara in my head but I am really struggling to write it all down. I am trying to write my first fic right now but it’s not going well at all.

Here’s my top five:

around the world - RaeOfFrickingSunshine - @rae-of-fricking-sunshine

This one is a no brainer in my head. I read so it many times. The way it portrays them falling in love over the course of their “surf” trip, there’s something so real in this about how falling in love with your best friend can look like. I also love the other topics, JJ’s strained relationship with his father, Kiara’s issue with food and body image, the bond between the Pogues. Honestly a master piece that I could talk about for hours. Only issue? There’s not more of it. Yes, there’s a part 2 which is as good as the first one, but I would honestly die to have the first part told by JJ’s perspective with more scenes from their trip.

This “rant” from Kiara is still stuck in my head, because it’s so heartbreaking and true.

“You don’t know why I’m mad? I’m mad because Pope gets concerned when I walk alone at night in Berlin – one of the safest cities in the world. I’m mad because some guy feels entitled to my body when all I’ve done is dance with him. I’m mad because whenever I say I’ve got male best friends everyone assumes I’ve fucked you all. I’m mad because everyone says be careful and oh are you wearing that out as if it’s going to be my fault that something happens to me, even if it’s someone else doing that thing. I’m mad because me changing what I wear doesn’t stop that bad thing happening, it just makes it happen to someone else. I’m mad because I’m thinking what if I did do something, did I ask for it.”

baby i'm not even in a gown (the way you want me make me want you now) - RoseofWinterfell - @whitetrashjj

Honestly, I had a hard time picking out my favourite work from this author, they are all pure gold. But at the end I decided to go with this one. It’s shorter, light hearted, smutty and so much fun. This author writes the characters so well in all of their pieces, better than the show itself in my opinion.

Firsts- piglemousse - @piglemousse

Another great one and with much better story line for them after season 3 than what we actually got. I am a sucker for stories with them travelling the world.

the benefits of being under the influence(r) - noos - @kiekiecarrera

AU one, but JJ and Kiara are so in character in this. It has the enemies to friends with benefits to lovers trope which is always fun and is just beautifully written.

Enemies with Benefits and Beach Houses - Lis4 - @lis4ux

Another enemies to lovers one that’s currently being written. Big kudos to the author for keeping up with it during the season 4 fiasco. It’s something I look forwards to reading every weekend.

There’s so many more out there and it was very hard to pick only five. Thank you again to you authors for creating beautiful works to read!

If anyone wants to share their favourites, please do not hesitate. Or come scream at me about Jiara and OBX (well maybe not scream, I am a sensitive one)

[melodymunson]

The To-Do list

You are graduating from high school and planning to make your summer before college the best of your life. Along the way, you have sexual encounters with fellow friends and graduates. Lifeguard Billy is your biggest crush and Barb, Nancy are your best friends. You are adopted with one sister Heather who works as a lifeguard with Billy at the Hawkins community pool. Featuring appearances from Robin, Chrissy, Argyle, and Jeff, with mentions of Jonathan and Gareth from and in the ST series. Steve and Eddie are the main characters. Original character OC is Edwina who's Eddie's fraternal twin sister. The face claim for Edwina is Angelina Jolie in the movie Gia. No Upside Down this is a Stranger Things AU alternate universe.

(Based on Aubrey Plaza's movie The To-Do List.)

Chapters 1&2 6.3K words.

ao3 link

wattpad link

Chapter 1 plot info- You graduate from Hawkins High School in the summer of 86 with Robin, Nancy, Barb, Jonathan, Eddie, Chrissy. At a graduation party, you accept an offer from Argyle you can't possibly resist.

Chapter 1

I want you to move me.

The day you had been waiting four years for was finally here. Finally, you were walking the graduation stage as valedictorian at Hawkins High School. Class of ‘86 baby. You had just recently turned 18. Now you were delivering your speech and all 4 years of college you were an outcast, a straight-A student, and a girl who loved to read and research. While your friends and practically everyone else around you went out to parties and drank/got high you spent most of your nights at home.

You had never done more than kiss hell you had never even made out with anyone. Your first kiss with a guy was Jonathan who was now your best friend Nancy’s boyfriend. Your first kiss with a girl was with Nancy but you were better off as friends. The only other thing you had done was cuddle and hold hands with Gareth the drummer of Corroded Coffin.

Standing in front of your fellow graduates including Barb, Nancy, Jonathan, Robin, Vickie, and even Eddie the freak Munson. He was a total rockstar but so was his fraternal twin Edwina who had graduated a year prior. They were your good friends but you had fantasized about being more than that with them. Following your concession speech you would be going to a college party with hopefully your biggest crush Billy in attendance.

“Hello, class of 1986 I am happy and proud to be your college valedictorian. We have all come so far and I am so honored to be standing here in front of you all. There's a lot we have been through and with those struggles that we have overcome in the 4 years of high school together we are now able to move on to the next chapter in our lives. Whether it be to college, maybe even space, to working a job, college and a job simultaneously, or traveling around the world or just road tripping we are all united in the fact we are Hawkins High graduates. I wish everyone luck and before I end this speech I want to give some wisdom from two of my favorite women who are staunch feminists. Gloria Steinem once said”:

‘The art of life is not controlling what happens to us, but using what happens to us.’

“She is a wise woman and the other woman in question who is also one of my heroes said

‘You change the world by being yourself.’

“One of the greats and the widow of Beatles legend John Lennon said this before and I couldn't agree with her more. I hope everyone here will begin the next chapter in their lives with enthusiasm and even more enthusiasm. Thank you!”

Most people clapped and cheered and you bowed. Next Principal Higgins handed out everyone's diplomas with Eddie snatching up his and running away from the stage flipping Higgins the bird. You then noticed Steve in the audience he was there for his best friend Robin who he worked with at the local Family Video. Steve's gaze caught yours and you smiled as you waved. Robin and Steve began walking over to you as you held your diploma with big smiles on their faces.

Your sister and parents surely took lots of photos of you probably videos as well and they were also nearby. Nancy and Barb told you they would meet you at Nancy's Oldsmobile station wagon after the graduation ceremony commenced. Robin embraced you in a big hug.

“So glad we graduated! Stevie boy here just had to come today to bask in the glory with us didn't you dingus?” Robin teased him with a wink.

“Sure did. Nice tassels ladies. The graduation was great. So proud of you both! So Y/N what are your plans for the summer?” He asked as he flicked your tassel playfully.

Clearing your throat you responded “Not much getting a job hopefully at the pool but my sister has connections obviously. Going to some parties, road trips with the girls, and Robin you should come too,” you urged as you patted her shoulder.

Robin smiled brightly and nodded intrigued by this idea of yours.

“Of course, I would love to. Well, I’ll be working at the cafe a lot this summer, but sure, I think I could fit that into my plans.”

“Ahh, nice well I will be working part-time at the pool this summer. Hope to see you there,” Steve replied with a sly grin.

You embraced him and hugged him loving how well-defined his body was.

“Well, I need to catch up to Nance and Barb. See you both later?” You asked hoping for a raincheck.

They nodded in unison.

“Most definitely. See you later,” Robin answered.

“Later Y/N,” Steve added with a slight wave.

Soon you were at Nancy's car and driving back to your place so you could get ready for the college party that night. There would be a big keg of beer and beer pong, lots of party games, and loud music with dancing.

“So saw you talking to Steve what's up with that?” Nancy asked as she drove getting a few blocks from your house.

“Nothing he just wanted to say congratulations on graduating and so did Robin. I can't believe Eddie finally graduated. Third time the charm I guess,” you told her with a shrug.

Barb looked out the rolled-down window and smiled as the Smiths how soon is now quietly played in the background on Nancy's radio. Was Nancy jealous or something? She had only been on one date with Steve and had preferred women anyway. You also preferred women. Barb and you weren't experienced and Nancy was a little. Currently, her boyfriend was Jonathan.

“Oh nice well I guess I’ll pick you up at 8 or so tonight. Can't wait to get out of this itchy graduation gown.”

Nancy had already tossed her graduation cap and so did Barb. Pulling up to your driveway she idled her car and you unlocked the back door and got out.

“See you then.”

Waving goodbye to them Nancy soon pulled out of the driveway and was on her way again. Inside your room, you turned on some music picking a cassette of Corroded Coffins. Soon you were painting your nails black and were shortly after startled a bit by Heather coming into your room.

“Need to borrow your hair dryer mine broke.”

Going into your bathroom she got your dryer and left with it.

Hours later you were taking a bath and Heather came into your room and then your bathroom. Sitting down on the edge of the tub she smirked.

Looking up you gave her a ‘Can I help you?’ type of grin.

“So my little sis is going to a party tonight. Plan on getting drunk and finally getting laid?” She teased with a giggle.

Heather was dating Tommy but it was nothing serious and she was seeing some people on the side.

“No. For your information, I’ll be there with Nancy and Barb. Billy will probably be there too.”

“God girl you are such a prude. You have to do some exploration before college starts. No pressure or anything but you are my sister and even if you were adopted I care about you. You need to seriously consider it. Everyone goes into college with at least some experience,” she informs you with a flick of her hair.

Scoffing you rolled your eyes at her which she noticed of course and this had her flicking soap bubbles in your face.

“I'm serious though maybe make a to-do list. Of sexual firsts. Or don't. Whatever. Be a loser for all I care,” she scoffs right back at you before standing up and walking out your bathroom door.

“Okay, maybe I will.”

Taking what Heather said to heart you put on some Motley Crue in your cassette player and began your to-do list for that summer and what may even lead into early college. It was going to be a list you could hopefully accomplish at least realistically and if things needed to be added or removed later from the list then you would make the proper adjustments. It would need to be more than just experimentation and equally girls and guys. So you began making your list with a reasonable order and the definitions of sex acts you didn't know you would look up in the dictionary.

-Hickies -Making out -Handjob -Fingering -Renting and watching an adult film with someone else -Mutual masturbation -Use of toys -Phone sex -Motorboating & tit fucking -Blowjob -Eating pussy -Being eaten out -Dominating/being dominated -All-girl threesome -69 -Voyeurism -Rimming -Semi-public sex act -Losing virginity/vaginal sex (Hopefully with Billy). -Anal sex -Orgasm denial -Cream pie -Pegging -Foursome with another girl and 2 guys -Usage of strapon for lesbian sex -Filmed sex act -And most importantly an ORGASM! Hell, lots of orgasms.

Later you were dressed for the party and face full of makeup. Sneaking into Heather's room you borrowed her hot pink stiletto pumps to complete your outfit of red fishnets, a red leather skirt, a matching leather spiked jacket, and a black tube top. Getting your purse ready you dabbed on some white musk perfume and got your lotion, hot pink lipstick, compact mirror, and wallet before heading outside just as Nancy pulled into your driveway. As you got into her car you could hear the radio playing Culture Clubs do you really want to hurt me?

The ride to the party was mellow and mainly quiet. Barb was fairly silent in the backseat as Nancy drove and synth wave music played. The party was at Jason Carver's who you couldn't stand but you planned to make the most of it. The usual suspects would probably be there including Steve and of course the jocks. Nancy's boyfriend Jonathan would no doubt be there as well.

"So you excited for the grad party?" You asked Nancy.

She shrugged her shoulders. "I guess. Barb and I just want a chill night you know? Plus Barb will be the designated driver tonight."

"I understand. Jonathan is probably excited to see you again soon."

Nancy nodded and you looked out the window noticing Jason's house approaching in the near distance. After parking you got out first and walked with Nancy and Barb to the front door looking into the window from the distance and noticing lots of people gathered around a keg inside. Eddie was there selling his stash, his twin Edwina, and so were the typical jocks, Jason, Chrissy, Jonathan, and Keg King Billy who was playing Pour Some Sugar on Me on acoustic guitar you noticed as the door opened and you walked inside.

Some people were playing beer pong, others were watching and listening to Billy play guitar. In the back yard jocks were playing basketball. Hopefully, tonight will be one for the books to remember for a long time. Billy's eyes locked with yours as he got to the chorus of the Def Leppard song. He winked at you as he strummed the guitar and sang.

It felt like he was singing to you.

"Pour some sugar on me. Oohh. In the name of love."

His voice was beautiful. Pure and raw.

"C'mon, fire me up. Pour your sugar on me. I can't get enough I'm hot, sticky sweet. From my head to my feet, yeah!"

When the song was finished, the drunk and rowdy crowd applauded Billy. Just then Barb came up to you startling you out of your reverie with a wine cooler. Handing it to you, you removed the top and took a big gulp. Billy's eyes remained on you until some girl rubbed up on him, much to his and your dismay.

Walking away with Barb you found Nancy again and noticed them talking to Jonathan quickly taking notice he was with his friend from back west. Argyle you recalled. He seemed to be stoned a lot but nice.

"Hey Y/N. Are you having fun yet?" Jonathan asked before taking a big swig of his beer. Nancy was drinking red wine from a blue solo cup and Barb had opted for Hawaiian fruit punch.

"Yeah, sure. Just need to get into the party mood more."

Now that Billy was done singing and playing guitar at least for the moment the music was back on again, and Kiss's Made for Loving You was playing.

"Anyone want to get high?" Argyle offered as he pulled out a joint from behind his ear. He was wearing his Surfer Boy Pizza yellow hat and he already looked dazed judging from the glazed-out look in his eyes.

Barb shook her head no as well as Nancy. Jonathan already looked pretty stoned.

"No thanks, man gotta try to sober up so I can drive your van later dude."

"Right yeah, I almost forgot."

"I'll get high if you are offering. Let's go someplace a bit more quiet though," you suggested to him with an eager smile.

Argyle looked a bit surprised but just nodded. Following you, first, you decided to get yourself another drink and made your way to a guest room. It was quiet and peaceful with no one around. Now sitting on the bed with him, he lit up the joint as you finished your wine cooler and tossed it into the wastebasket. You soon opened your malt beer and accidentally spilled some on Argyle.

"So sorry Argyle. I'm so sorry."

"It's fine. Just wait for me before we light the joint I'll go wash my hands."

You finished what was left of your malted beer as he was away. Soon he came back, dried off, and sat down next to you. Lighting the joint he offered it to you first so you could get a nice buzz going. Eagerly obliging, you breathed in the smoke and exhaled slowly into the air. Passing the joint he took it and smoked a drag of it.

"Crazy night huh? Wild party man. Glad to be here for the summer though. Gonna get me a part-time pizza job here. Won't be like Surfer Boy Pizza but I will just have to manage I guess."

He sighed as he handed you the joint. You couldn't help but giggle as you took another drag and handed it back.

"Nah that's okay you finish it. I've already had two and a half joints tonight," he told you with a glazed-out look in his eyes.

His hair was just too damn beautiful. Bravely, you reached out and touched it before taking another drag of it and giggled.

"I love your hair, Argyle."

"Uh, thanks. You can touch it that's cool. So what's on your mind?"

"Just you. I want to get to know you better."

Argyle looked all mellowed out as he sat next to you with a look of contentment on his face as you ran your fingers through his silky black locks.

"Oh well, that's nice. I want to get to know you too."

Moving in closer to him, you went in for the kill and kissed him. Pulling away you took one final drag before putting the joint out. Argyle kissed back, deepening it as you got up slightly, straddled his lap, and kissed him again. As you began grinding on his lap he softly gasped. You just wanted to feel good and if he was getting turned on in the process, then even better, it was a win/win.

“I’m so wet finger me Argyle. Please. Just finger fuck me. That's all I want,” you pleaded against his lips before biting his lip.

“Fuck. I uh sure. These tights though you wanna take them off, maybe?”

“Just rip them. I'm not wearing any underwear so…” you bravely stated.

“Yeah uh fuck. Just didn't expect this to happen, dude. I um sure.”

Taking off your heels you threw them to the side and let Argyle eagerly rip your fishnets. You had already made his denim-clad thigh wet with your juices and hoped he didn't mind. Knowing it was Argyle he probably didn't. To just feel good and soak his fingers with your cum was all that was on your mind at the moment and your only desire.

“Mm fuck, you are so wet already Y/N,” he praised you as Argyle fingered your slick entrance now that your tights were out of the way.

Wasting no time, he went to work with two thick fingers moving them knuckle-deep inside your tight entrance, his fingers already getting drenched with your slickness. He worked with scissor-like movements inside you filling you to the hilt with his expertly skilled digits.

“Oh fuck ya fuck me harder, faster!” You demanded as your lips locked around his throat.

As he obeyed your commands, you rode his fingers fucking yourself silly on them, hoping he was enjoying this as much as you were. If his groans were any indicator of how he was feeling, then it was safe to say he was quite satisfied so far.

“That's so good for me. What a good girl,” he praised you as he added a third finger filling you up.

“Mm yes fuck me so good with your fingers. Fuck!” You cried out loudly and with extreme pleasure, not wanting him to stop or for this moment to end.

You just wanted to savor this and enjoy this moment. Argyle had the perfect touch and skilled fingers. It was the best feeling and the sensations he was making you feel were incredible.

“You close?” He whispered huskily into your ear as you cried against his shoulder and gyrated your hips even faster on his fingers as they worked in tandem on your special spot. “Yes. Fuck Argyle, you are so fucking good at that!” You practically screamed.

His lips met yours sealing them in a kiss as he fingered you deeper and faster than before, making squelching sounds as he pleasured you. Your tongue found him and tangled against his, as you had the sexiest kissing of your life.

“Oh fuck! Gonna shit! Fuck!” You loudly declared as you felt your orgasm nearing about to push you over the edge.

This was your first orgasm from contact with another human. There was no going back now, nor did you want to. It made you crave this connection and sense of companionship even more with someone else.

“Fuck, are you cumming? So fucking good for me,” Argyle commended you as he let you ride out your orgasm on his fingers.

“Mm oh fuck! So good!” You boasted before you kissed him again.

Sliding his fingers out of you he gave you a smirk. Before he could do or say anything else, you took his fingers sucking them clean. Moments later, he pulled you in for a kiss.

The day after, you just relaxed and spent time on the couch binge-watching the show Golden Girls and baking/eating snacks. It was a chill day, and you were still reeling from the prior night with Argyle. After your interaction with Argyle, you spoke to Jeff from Corroded Coffin and exchanged numbers. The next day you would be at the community pool, hopefully getting a job there. Heather, being your sister, would be a damn good guarantee you would land that lifeguard position.

Waking up bright and early the next day, you got up and stretched, then made breakfast of a latte, mixed berry waffles topped with whipped cream and chocolate chips. Heather was still sleeping but by the time you had showered and shaved, then dressed in a one-piece red bikini, she was up and grabbing some coffee and a quick waffle on the way out the door. You get your red heart-shaped sunglasses and towel and put an oversized white tee shirt over your bathing suit.

Soon you were on your way with Heather to the local pool and blasting some Def Leppard. It was a nice day out and sunny. Steve was sure to be there and he was pretty hot. Billy would be there too though and had the final say on who would get the summer lifeguard positions. With any luck, Billy would take to you like a fish to water.

“Look, don't get your hopes up. I am a total shoo-in for a lifeguard job this summer, but just be aware Billy isn't always in the best of moods. Just be careful around him,” she cautioned as her hair blew in the breeze as she drove.

“Yeah, sure. I can take care of myself but you know thanks for looking out and everything,” you cattily responded.

She scoffed at your reaction as she got on the street of Hawkins Pool. Arriving at the pool you walked in through the side gate with Heather in the lead making her way to the lifeguards and hopefuls standing by the pool. Billy awarded you with a big mega-watt smile as you made your way over to him in your red flip-flops. They squelched slightly on the wet ground. Even though he was drunk at the party, the night prior being Keg King and all you were certain he recognized you.

This was going to be a long summer indeed….

Chapter 2

I get off on you

A call with Jeff leads to some good times. Steve invites you to the movies and you give him the date of a lifetime.

Everyone exchanged numbers that day at the pool and your first day on the job was eventful and a bit exciting. Billy was the best at his job and your sister even got off your back, not embarrassing you for once. Most of the kids at the pool were easy going and no one almost drowned that day. Karen Wheeler and the rest of the older women ogled Billy but that was always typical of them and there was nothing new there.

Deciding to take a bath when you got home you called Jeff just to see how he was doing and what was up. After just two rings he answered happy to talk to you.

“Hey Y/N. How's your summer starting? I had practice today. Eddie runs a tight ship but it was fine. Hope you are relaxing,” he told you sounding earnest.

“I'm fine just taking a bath and enjoying a wine spritzer. I'm glad practice went well hope there's a new show soon at the Hideout right?”

“Yeah, we should have one soon will let you know if Eddie doesn't first. Well, that sounds good. I hope you are enjoying your bath.”

You played with the bubbles and relaxed trying to fully enjoy yourself as you leaned against your inflatable waterproof neck pillow.

“You must get tons of groupies. Although I'm sure you have a girlfriend, right?”

“I guess but not as much as the other guys, especially Eddie. Do you have someone special in your life? I've been single a while though actually.”

“No, I don’t have anyone at the moment. I've just been playing the field nothing serious. Going on vacation soon though.”

“Oh, that sounds good.”

Your fingers moved to your inner thighs rubbing and caressing them even making soft and lewd noises as you stayed on the phone with Jeff hoping he could hear you.

“Umm, everything okay over there?” He asked sounding a bit concerned.

“Yeah, I'm fine. I would like to unwind though I had a long day. Kinda stressful. You know what I mean.”

“Could I help you relax better?”

“Sure. Just talk dirty to me,” you responded boldly.

“Really? No girl has ever asked that of me before. I could oblige though…”

You moved your fingers to your slick entrance teasing yourself down there with your pointer and middle fingers tracing over your clit teasing it wanting to feel good. And if no one else at the moment could make you feel that way then this would have to do but would be even better with guided instruction. Your core tightened as you teased yourself.

“Yeah I want that,” you replied bluntly.

“Fuck. Are you touching yourself?” He huskily asked you.

“Yeah teasing my clit,” you mewled.

“Okay good. Mind if I take off an article of clothing?”

“I want you to.”

You could hear Jeff fiddling with what sounded like his belt buckle. Then you heard the unmistakable sound of his zipper being unzipped. Next, you heard a slight ruffling noise.

“Just relax for me too Jeff. Just make yourself feel good. Want to have you stroke your cock,” you requested knowing he probably wouldn't be able to deny your request. “Already on it.”

He freed his cock from his boxers and relaxed as he man spread. Meanwhile, you were fingering yourself with one slick finger rubbing circles on your clit in a clockwise motion. It felt incredible, especially knowing Jeff was pleasing himself and getting off as you touched yourself.

“Okay tell me what you are doing now. I’m using one finger on my clit and it feels perfect,” you told him in a whimpery tone.

“I’m stroking the base of my cock and getting hard for you. God feels amazing!” He boasted as he stroked.

You added another finger and made scissor-like motions as you teased your sensitive bud.

“Sounds good. I bet your cock is so big and hard,” you teased Jeff playfully as you moved your fingers inside in rapid thrusts arching your hips and even grabbing a pillow nearby to hump against.

“Oh yeah? What are you doing? Please tell me you are using your fingers.”

“Sure am. Feels so good. And I’m humping a pillow. I’ve got two fingers inside. Fuck!” You cried out.

“Fuck yeah. Keep working your fingers as I stroke my hard cock. Tell me what you want to do to me if you were here,” he begged. “Lubing up my cock now,” he softly told you as he got his bottle of lotion and rubbed some on his cock to use it to get better friction.

“I want to suck your big cock as I'm down on my knees and I’m rubbing one out or using a toy on myself with vibrations. Fuck I want to kiss and lick your pretty cock,” you whined as you thrust your fingers harder and humped the pillow even faster now.

Jeff’s groans were becoming more vocal now and you could hear them distinctly. His cock was probably so beautiful and so big. There was no way you could take all of him inside your mouth, but you would try your best to.

“Good. Sounds perfect. I want all that. Shove my cock down your throat and watch you blow me. We can even 69. I want to taste that delicious pussy. Eat you out and use my fingers to prove to you that guitarists have the best fingers,” he boasted.

“Mm yes, I want that. You as my rockstar. I need it so badly,” you whined now on your stomach and humping your pillow harshly as your fingers pressed against your clit in nice clockwise circles.

At the same time, Jeff was stroking himself even faster the sound of slick as he rubbed his cock and rubbed his shaft with pre cum coating it.

“Want to rock your world? Make you want my cock nonstop,” Jeff gruffly spoke as his pretty cries could be heard through the phone.

You moved your fingers so fast wanting to chase your high and wanting to fuck yourself through your orgasm. Jeff had the same idea as he got himself closer to his release by bucking faster into his palm.

“Getting so close. Feels amazing,” you whimpered very loudly not holding back now.

“I wanna hear the pretty noises you make as you come undone,” Jeff begged you.

Neither of you would last much longer as you fingered yourself with reckless abandon and Jeff fucked his cock with his hand senselessly.

“Mm yes want to have you cum all over my face and I want to squirt all over your fingers and mouth as you finger me and eat me out,” you moaned with extreme pleasure as you felt your high about to bring you over the edge.

“Mm yeah fuck yes need to taste your sweet pussy and all your juices as you take my cock as deep as you can and take all my cum,” he proclaimed grunting as he told you this his cum shooting out and his load spilling all over him.

“Yes gonna cum for you!” You whined as you moaned loudly through your orgasm letting it crash over you.

Days later you get a call from Steve out of the blue. You only had several work days at the pool training as a professionally licensed lifeguard. You had hung out before no big deal. He was calling for something though and you couldn’t wait to find out what it was.

“Hello Y/N?”

“Yes, Steve?”

“Wanted to know if you were free this weekend. How about Sunday we go to a movie together? I was thinking maybe that new movie Ferris Bueller’s Day Off?”

“Sure sounds fun. I would like that Steve.”

“Don’t worry I’ll buy all the snacks and your ticket. The showing I was looking into going to is at 330.”

“Thanks but I’ll pay my way. I’ll buy my ticket but you can buy the food and drinks.”

“Sounds great.”

You talked for a few more minutes about work, the summer, holiday plans, etc.

When Sunday came you dressed up nice and put on some makeup tans and browns mainly and white lipstick. For your outfit, you decided on a spiked choker, matching bracelet, white fishnets, platform wedge boots, a red micro skirt, a purple thong, a Dio cut tank top and no bra with black denim ripped battle jacket complete with heavy metal pins and patches including Dio, Motley Crue, Poison, Def Leppard, Joan Jett, The Plasmatics, Ramones, Metallica, Judas Priest, Black Flag, etc.

“Hi beautiful,” was the first thing you heard Steve say as you met up with him in your driveway and got into his maroon Volvo.

“Hi, Steve. Can't wait to see this movie.”

“Nice. Well, I can’t wait either. Happy to take you.”

It was only 3 in the afternoon and the movie theater was nearby. As you drove for a bit you turned on the radio to Poisons talk dirty to me playing.

“Well, here we are.”

“Yep here we are,” you said.

Getting out of the car he went to the passenger side and opened your door for you. Soon you were in the theater and got snacks from the concession stands. You got a large pink lemonade with two bendy straws to share and sour gummy bears, red vines, red licorice, popcorn with extra butter and salt, with caramel corn too. In your seats, you sat back enjoying the previews taking notice of the upcoming movies like Aliens and Stephen King’s Stand By Me.

The candy was good and so was the popcorn. The drink was also refreshing. There were only about ten other people at the cinema showing and not many were near you and less than half of those people rows behind you. Nudging Steve soon after the movie began you got his attention and he smiled at you.

“Yeah? Everything ok?” He asked solemnly as Steve leaned in closer to you.

“Fine. The drinks and snacks are great. Thanks.”

He nodded and then focused again on the movie laughing a bit at a funny scene with Ferris Bueller and his sister.

About ten minutes later you nudged him again.

“Yes?” He asked softly as he looked at you with his beautiful eyes.

“I want to make you feel good Steve.”

He smiled wanly at you and swallowed hard.

“Okay, sure. How do you wanna do that?”

“A hand job maybe. Just get hard for me big boy.”

“Fuck. Right now? You are seriously coming onto me in a movie with people around? I’ve never done anything like this with people around except at a party…” He trailed off as he looked around making sure no one was looking on or listening nearby. No one appeared to be paying any attention though everyone was focused on the movie it seemed like.

Putting your hand on his denim-clad thigh you smiled and squeezed his upper right leg.

“Yes, I want to give you a handjob.”

He nodded his approval and licked his lips wetting them.

“Yeah of course. Fuck that would be amazing.”

He was so pent up and getting hard as he undid his black leather belt and unzipped his jeans.

“Mm you are so big Stevie,” you whispered into his ear as he freed his cock from its confines.

Sealing Steve’s lips in a kiss you moved your fingers up his leg and to his waist and his happy trail feeling a patch of hair he had there. His cock was gorgeous. Big and thick. It made your mouth practically water just at the sight of it. Even though you had never done something like this ever before you felt safe with him. Even safer with him than you ever did any other guy.

“Oh fuck. You sure about this?” He loudly whispered back as a funny part in the movie happened and the small crowd was laughing hysterically.

“Yes. I want to do this.”

Your response was bold and you were calculated in your movements as you moved your hand down lower. His boxer briefs were baby blue and he looked so sexy. Steve’s eyes locked with yours as you went right to work not wasting a second as you stroked him from the base to the tip and then repeated your actions. His couth was mouth-watering and you licked your lips as you stroked earning whimpers from Steve.

“Fuck yeah just like that. Fuck!” He seethed through clenched teeth as you stroked him at a steady pace.

Deciding to spice things up you took out a small bottle of unscented lotion from your purse and opened it. You squirted a generous amount onto your hand and stroked him again this time getting more friction with the lotion being used as a lubricant now. He seemed to love it and met your lips in a kiss with tongue and so much passion. His cock was one of the biggest and as you cupped his balls with your other hand his whimpers turned to groans for you.

Looking deeply into each other’s eyes you watched Steve as he bit and licked his lips. You pumped him faster and harder earning growls from him. Getting on your knees you looked up at him with wide eyes full of wonder as pre-cum began to form on the tip of his big cock. He was the most well-endowed man at least to you. Steve man spread even wider for you as you worked your magic with your fingers your eyes trained on his never leaving his gaze.

“Oh fuck!” He seethed through clenched teeth as he bucked his hips erratically needy and aching for more eager to chase his high.

You put your finger to your lips in a shushing motion as Steve scoffed at you teasing him before you mouthed

“Shh Steve. Cum for me,” you beckoned.

He ran his fingers through his locks of hair not even caring if anyone noticed or heard at this point. Steve just wanted to cum and empty his full balls now. Sure enough moments later his stomach muscles tightened as he began to cum for you. Panting as he came down from his high you got back into your seat and cleaned his cum using the Kleenex’s from your purse you had for emergencies. After you used hand sanitizer.

Steve leaned in close and whispered in your ear “Thank you so much.”

He then left a kiss on your cheek and you laid your head on his shoulder for the rest of the movie.

After the movies and being dropped off at home you called Nancy just to talk. She picked up on the second ring. You could hear her TV on in the background and Barb laughing.

“Hey!”

“Hi Nance. So I went on an awesome date with Steve yesterday. It won’t be weird right that I went out with him? Not sure if it will happen again you know but he’s really nice and I like him a lot so far..” you trailed off. Even though Nancy had only been on one date with Steve before you didn’t want this to come in between your friendship with her.

“No, it’s fine. I’m just here with Barb we were doing manicures and pedicures. You should come over.”

“Oh yeah, maybe we can have a sleepover sometime soon.”

“Definitely. And Barb says hi. Right Barb?” She called out.

“Hi Y/N!”

“So what happened on the date anything I should know about?”

“Well I had phone sex with Jeff nights ago but what happened with Steve was much more interesting.”

“Oh wow. Yes, tell me about Steve. I need the details.”

“We went to see Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. We were near the back sitting in the middle of the row. I bought my ticket but he bought all the snacks and the drinks too. During the movie, I jerked him off.”

“You mean a hand job? To King Steve? And phone sex with Jeff from Corroded Coffin. Wow. How was it?”

“Magnificent. He came for me. I mean both of them did.”

“That is huge news.”

Barb grabbed the phone from Nancy.

“So you rocked Steve’s world and Jeff’s too?”

“Sure did. And soon I’m going to go out shopping for sex toys. At that adult store, Edwina works out. But then there’s a Corroded Coffin show soon after that I really wanna see. You and Barb maybe wanna come?”

“Yes!” They both said in unison as they held the phone to their ears.

“For moral support of course.”

“Right,” they agreed together.

After talking a few more minutes you hung up and began making plans for what you would wear to go to the sex shop. After you went over to Nancy’s place to hang out with her and Barb. Sex toy shopping and getting your first toy. It would hopefully be magical.

to list soundtrack

Talk dirty to me by poison.

whore by in this moment and turn you

Rock you like a hurricane the scorpions.

sweet tooth and special pets by step

fever by bfmv

Crave by fate destroyed.

Summer Breeze medley reprise and Cinnamon Girl by type of negative

endless summer by the midnight

I get off and special by Halestorm.

closer violet Orlandi

Submit William Control

Worship me living dead girl.

Deftones sex tape

Come undone bad omens cover

crazy bitch buckcherry

beautiful by HIM

bitches brew by crosses

master and servant & dangerous by Depeche mode

I want your video by Djo

Feel like making love bad company.

Tainted Love by Manson

Adidas by Korn all day long I dream about sex

Pour some sugar on me by def leppard

Come by prince

2 become 1 Spice Girls

Break my body and scream by New Year's Day.

hatefuck and rats by now

hot love and hot rockin by judas priest

cherry bomb by the Runaways

Do you wanna touch and I wanna be your dog, Joan Jett.

Let's put the X in sex by kiss.

like a virgin Crue cover and sex

deep throat by cupcake

just tonight by the pretty reckless

wasps animal fuck like a beast

me so horny by 2 live crew

self-indulgence and petite morte by Razakel

Amber sexual li da dee and this is your night.

UMC what is love cover?

bad medicine Bon Jovi

porn star dancing my darkest days

So happy I could die by Lady Gaga

cola Lana del Rey

lips like morphine kill Hannah

warrant cherry pie

Willa Ford, I wanna be bad.

french kissing Sarah Connor

body 2 body by Samantha Mumba

hot and just a little by play

Beggin and I wanna be your slave and own my mind by Maneskin.

going to hell and going down by Pretty Reckless

conflicted and buzz by Halestorm

climax by DJO

Rock Star Beau and Summer Nights by Cassie Steele

taglist

@userchai @eddiemunsonfuxks @koskeepsake @keeryatmosphere @corneliuswatkins

@xxladymjxx @sidereustales @hippiegoth97 @eddiemunson-reader-shame

@seatnights @ali-r3n @kelseyaparker19 @mrprettywhenhecries @shichey97

@keikoraven @veemoon @micheledawn1975 @hellv1ra @stolen-in-moonlight

@haceleyes @edsbug @lovelythoughtfulcupcake @loritate7311 @skatazz

@loserboysandlithium @probablyin-bed @steveslittlesunflower @decodedlvr @quinnyficsy

@jadeylovesmarvelxo @lovemesomeeddiemunson @hcwthewestwaswcn @emmykaleidoscopeheart @stranger-things-mania

@londonfog-chan @mediocredreams @scarlet-bitch @langdonss @mysticpeachobject

@peculiarwren @sweatyfuntrash @universallyneckhoagieshark @nightmare-time1824 @hippiegothrecs

@corrodedcorpses @eddiemunsonslibrary @dananahenderson @somethingvicked

@yourfavoritewitchbitch @leelei1980 @ryuzakemo128

[lastoneout]

How my fiance prefers to shop:

Efficiency above all else, our priority is getting in and out as fast as possible. (Doesn't matter who's with him or if he's alone, it's the same.)

Only go into areas or aisles where you need something. Make sure the path you take is efficient as well, walking down aisles you don't need anything in is to be avoided at all costs.

Beeline to those needed things, grab them, only contemplate items/scan coupons if absolutely necessary .

Immediately go to the self check-out. Try to get the one that is quieter than the others and doesn't yell when you move things around in the bagging area(we actually shop at a specific store because it's the only one near us where the self check-out is quiet and lax about moving things, for my fiance this is the most important thing to keep in mind when deciding where to shop).

Leave.

How I prefer to shop:

Alone. I struggle to do things, anything, when someone is watching. I don't know why but I simply stop being able to perform tasks if someone is watching me.

I am extremely forgetful, so my System involves writing a list, but also going through almost every area/aisle and looking at things so I give myself the highest chance of remembering anything I may have forgotten. Also going up and down every aisle is soothing?? Idk it just is.

I go through them in a specific order, produce first, then up and down each aisle like a snake, and then we hit dairy and meat(which is usually in a weird place) and then go to the check out.

Meandering is intentional, again I need time to remember things. I will stand there and consider if I need/want things or if I don't for several minutes if needed.

Take time to laugh at any weird products you see. (I'm a whimsical bitch.)

Take time to scan coupons.

Take breaks to think through each recipe I plan on making so I don't forget anything because, I cannot stress enough, I will forget why I'm even there if I don't build in as much time for remembering as possible into my System.

Check out with a person. I'll go for the self check-out if I need to, but I don't really enjoy them because there's not enough space in the bagging area for all my groceries + and I'm bad at bagging things + the loud noises + high concentration of people + not a lot of space especially if you have a cart + feeling that I'm going to do something wrong + PRESSURE TO GET OUT OF EVERYONE'S WAY is distressing.

Leave.

How I shop when I am following my fiance's system:

Awkwardly follow him around despite the fact that I'm the one with the shopping list and he doesn't like people walking behind him.

Second guess everything, feel bad about frivolous purchases, get stressed out. (<- He doesn't make me feel bad for spending money, I grew up poor and with abusive caregivers and am struggling to not feel awful about buying things I want and/or potentially doing things Wrong somehow and getting in trouble. The rest is just the whole "I don't like being watched while I do things" issue.)

Feel pretty bad about wasting time and walking inefficiently, almost run in to people because for some reason this style of shopping makes me lose my spatial awareness.

Have to double back a lot and still end up forgetting half the things I came to get.

Go directly home after because not shopping how I want to is, for some reason, extremely exhausting.

Not complain because while I'm a neurodivergent introvert my fiance is even more of a neurodivergent introvert and also that people are weirdly hostile to him in public because they don't like the way he looks?? So I know he's going to crash harder than I do when we get home from dealing with lights and sounds and strangers glaring at him and/or giving him shit for wearing an N95 which happens constantly when I'm not standing directly beside him(me being a short girl-adjacent creature with a buzz cut who uses mobility aids tends to make people think I'm recovering from cancer and leave us alone).

So yeah we just have competing access needs re: shopping that clash in a weird way, and the world would probably be a better place if neither of us ever had to go to the grocery store. (He also apologized when I explained why I act weird at the store, and we're gonna work something out to try to minimize Shopping Stress for BOTH of us.)

there's getting diagnosed for real and then there's having your fiance show you youtube shorts by autistic people talking about their habits and going "YOU!! YOU DO THIS!!!!!!"

[decaydaze]

I'm someone who believes that there's no such thing as "good" or "bad" people. Every day we actively make good or bad decisions. We are all neutral. I think the "bad person" label locks people in an idea/mindset they're unchanging and they stop seeing a point in trying to be "good" if they've already been dubbed permanently bad. On the otherhand, I've known MANY "good" people who used their "goodness" as a scapegoat when they actually were incredibly toxic and at times down right malicious, but they weren't held accountable because they were "good people".

Being someone who's autistic with a personality disorder, I have very low empathy. It took time for me to understand why people would be upset about things or feel certain ways or feel hurt by me being too tactless, etc.

This didn't mean I didn't care, but for a lot of my younger years, I was incredibly apathetic and/or flat out cruel. I made many Bad decisions. Especially in school and in the hospital as a youth. I was a traumatized child working with the understanding of life and people I had at the time. This didn't make me a bad person, and this doesn't make others with a similar history bad people either. Nor does my effort to make good decisions and learn from my mistakes make me a "good person". I still make mistakes. Everyone does.

It's taken me many years to understand why certain things upset certain people. I still struggle with some things. I have low empathy but I care about those I consider close to me, so I have to actively walk myself through decisions and social cues in a way that seemingly comes natural to others. I actively put effort into it because I want to be kind. I want to be a loving friend and/or partner. Any person can make good decisions, and any person can make bad decisions. A lack of affective empathy or empathy as a whole doesn't mean anyone is inherently bad. It just means we have to put in extra work.

You are not a bad person for having low empathy or having a personality disorder.

You can make bad mistakes and learn. You can struggle with these things and make good decisions. It's up to us as people every day to try our best to learn and grow.

[zerodaryls]

it's so funny (read: sad) that if bigoted fuckheads didn't insist i was a woman simply by virtue of my body at birth, i'd probably be chill with she/her pronouns in addition to he/they. if my mom didn't insist i was her daughter, i'd probably let her call me that, and we could still have a relationship.

i'm nonbinary and 'gendered' words are hypothetically meaningless, but because there are so many people who are more interested in telling me who i am rather than lovingly and curiously letting me express my own sense of self, those words carry trauma.

there's no reason a nonbinary person like myself can't be a son and a child and a daughter. there's no reason a nonbinary person like me can't go by he, they, and she.

'she' is not a slur. 'daughter' is not derogatory. 'beautiful' 'pretty' 'gorgeous' 'feminine' are not insults.

to the contrary, they're parts of language that express certain facets of a multi-faceted human existence, like mine.

and i have this sad, mournful feeling that if it weren't for unloving, condescending people, i'd probably be down to be called any of those things alongside my usual masculine/neutral terminology.

but i'd rather die than let anyone tell me what i have to be called.

[gatun-gatunesco]

Fleabag

"it will pass... i love you, too... ok"

[sarcosmiiic]

PLEASE KEEP THIS IN MIND:

we, as fans, do not have a right to private information. anything shared with us on this is a privilege. please do not abuse it. the cc's could shut down and never talk about it if we overwhelm them.

also, please keep in mind that ONE HERMIT and THE ENTIRETY OF HERMITCRAFT are NOT THE SAME THING. the entire fandom is not 'ruined' or 'completely unsafe' because of the actions of one person.

PLEASE DO NOT ASSUME THAT THE OTHER HERMITS KNEW ANYTHING ABOUT WHATEVER'S GOING ON WITH ISKALL. this is not some big conspiracy, it's the consequences of one person's actions. they weren't hiding this from us, that's not how hermitcraft works, they truly didn't know. they probably knew as much as us about this, so making it an 'us against them' situation is immature and shortsighted.

ALSO, I AM BEGGING EVERYONE TO PLEASE NOT SENSATIONALIZE THIS. PLEASE DO NOT TURN HATING ISKALL INTO A MEME OR A JOKE.

mcyt'ers being revealed to be less-than-great people is not a rare thing, sadly, but i've seen it turned into a joke/meme/trend in other fandoms. this both minimalizes the actual people's/victims' struggles, makes the entire situation feel less serious than it is, especially to outsiders looking in, and makes everyone in the fandom look immature, petty, unable to take anything seriously, and genuinely harmful.

this server, fandom, and community are not dying, it is not ruined forever, this is one (major, i'm not trying to minimalize it) issue that we're currently dealing with. it will be okay. we will move on. this is not the beginning of the end. please calm down. i love this fandom, god bless all of you. <3

edit: doc has said on stream that we will likely get more information as time passes. like i said, this is a PRIVILEGE. we are not OWED information. please be grateful for what we're given, and POLITELY ask questions if you must. if a cc doesn't give you the answer you want, or doesn't answer at all, LEAVE THEM ALONE. THIS IS NOT AN EXCUSE TO HARASS PEOPLE. the hermits are likely just as stressed out as us, if not probably more so, so please keep that in mind when contacting them.

don't freak out, we'll be okay, this is not the end of the world, nor is it the end of Hermitcraft. we will be okay.

second edit: please remember that (at least as far as we know) ISKALL AND STRESS WERE NOT KICKED OR BANNED. THEY LEFT OF THEIR OWN VOLITION.

ALSO!!! VERY IMPORTANT!!!

WE. DO. NOT. KNOW. EXACTLY. WHAT. HAPPENED.

PLEASE DO NOT ASSUME ANYTHING SIMPLY BASED OFF OF OTHER MCYT'ERS PAST ACTIONS/SCANDALS. WE DO NOT KNOW EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENED. WE MIGHT NOT EVER KNOW EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENED. WE NEED TO BE OKAY WITH THAT AND NOT DRAW OUR OWN CONCLUSIONS.

TWITTER LINKS TO VICTIM RESPONSES:

https://twitter.com/Kasszi_/status/1860670647946604985

https://twitter.com/emoslab_/status/1860697161245323559

[fingertipsmp3]

Also forgot to mention a guy in my class today said that blogging is narcissistic. I just sat there like 🫠

[lowkeyerror]

Ours Together

Agatha Harkness x Reader x Rio Vidal

Word count: 3.6k

Notes: Spoilers for Agatha All Along (entire series), Angsty, hurt/comfort (ig), Happy ending, Familiar!Reader, Familiar lore for this: They are weakened when away from the witch they are connected with, being with the witch amplifies powers, think of the familiar here as some mythical creature close to a witch but not exactly

Summary: When Agatha and coven summon a Green Witch to the road, they're surprised to be met with 2 people instead of 1. You yourself we're surprised and disappointed to be trapped with Rio and Agatha

An: Another one so soon... they're on my mind

Masterlist | Part 2 | Part 3

“Uh who is that?”

The coven was so distracted by Agatha’s reaction to Rio, that no one saw you struggling to climb out of the ground behind her.

“I’m Y/n, and I could use some assistance,” you say stretching out your hand.

Teen and Alice are the one’s that eventually help you out of the ground.

“I though we only summoned one witch,” Jen eyes you skeptically.

“I'm sorry what?”

You take in your surroundings frowning at the darkness. Your frown grows even larger when you spot Rio and Agatha.

“We're on the witch's road and-”

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, “Beg pardon?”

“The witch’s road it’s-”

You shake your head, “Not real.”

“Then explain this sweetheart?” Agatha speaks and you glare at her.

“You of all people know that the road is a scam,” your jaw clenches as you speak to her.

“You’re more feisty than I remember, pet,” her voice keeps a teasing aura around it.

“Don’t call me that,” you snap at her, voice echoing, with your eyes being absorbed black.

The outburst makes everyone except Rio and Agatha jump back.

“Now, now ladies play nice,” Rio interjects.

“Send me home, now,” you speak to her.

Rio tilts her head, “I think I to want to stay awhile, just to see how things turn out.”

You groan and move to walk in the back of the pack. Agatha refocuses the group and they continue to move forward.

You watch as Rio attempts to rile up Agatha. You see the woman in purple stiffen a few times, throwing her hands around wildly. It makes you want to laugh, centuries pass, but her mannerisms stay easy to read.

Once Rio has had enough of Agatha she trails to the end of group by your side.

“Long time no see hot stuff,” she tries.

“Not long enough,” you shoot back at her.

Rio pouts, “I thought you came along to be reunited.”

“You know I have to go with you if you're summoned liked that,” you mumble mostly to yourself.

“Oh that's right, because we’re fated for each other,” Rio says dreamily.

“Because I'm your familiar,” you correct her.

She shrugs, “Same thing.”

You redirect the conversation, “Why haven't we left yet? You know as well as I do that this is not real.”

Her eyes shift to the ground, “You haven't missed her? Even a little?”

You inhale sharply, “Of course I have, but I respect her wanting nothing to do with us. Rio, we can never undo what we did to her.”

“It wasn't our fault,” her fist clench at her sides.

You guard drops for a moment. Your hand finds it’s way into her grip.

“I know,” you speak solemnly.

“Sometimes I wish-”

You squeeze her hand, “Don’t you dare. I loved him, you loved him, and she loved him.”

“I don’t understand why she let’s people think those things about her.”

“If there’s one thing Agatha still cares about, it’s her image. That’s one of the few marks on her life where she’s soft and no one can know that,” you whisper.

You feel Rio's eyes lingering on you, “I’ve missed you.”

“I don't want to do this here,” you refuse to look at her.

“Well this is the only chance I’ve gotten with either of you in a long time. I don’t want to waste it,” Rio shifts her gaze ahead of her.

“And who’s fault is that Rio?”

You attempt to take your hand out of her's, but she doesn't let you. You let out an irritated sigh.

“With you, it’s my fault. I’m sorry I pushed you away.”

You didn't think you'd ever hear Death apologize. It was unexpected and you didn't know how to respond. You wanted to forgive her, but was this all she had to do to regain your trust?

“Did you know it hurts physically to keep my distance from you? As your familiar I’m supposed to stay relatively close to you. When I’m not it’s like my body is burning inside. I had to get used to that feeling after you kicked me out of your life. This is the first time in over 2 centuries that I'm not in pain.”

“I thought you would’ve come back,” she says it with more sorrow than sarcasm.

“Why would I, when it felt like you didn't want me?”

Your eyes lock on Agatha’s figure, “I wasn’t enough for you, either of you.”

Rio stops walking, “You were enough. You are enough. I became obsessed with finding Agatha and it sent me down a darker path than I realized. I wanted to find her so desperately that I let it affect things between us.”

You finally meet her eyes, “I loved her too. I feel like you always forgot, that my heart beats for her. That I belong to her just like I belong to you. I was already hurting then and then you-”

“Let’s move it losers the next trial is waiting,” Agatha says from the entrance of a house, that was not there before.

You finally free your hand from Rio's, “Forget it.”

You walk faster hoping to avoid anymore of this conversation. You go through the door and when you do it’s like you're in the 70’s.

The rest of the coven finds a mirror to check out their wardrobe. Teen points out a potential way to trigger the task and then they disperse. Leaving only you, Agatha, and Rio.

“Well don’t you look good enough to eat, sweetheart,” Agatha comes up behind you.

You turn getting ready to say something snarky, but your eyes are immediately drawn to the low cut of her shirt. The exposed skin looking better than you had remembered it. You begin to wonder if it still felt soft too.

“Boo,” Rio pops up behind Agatha.

You notice that Rio’s shirt also has a deep v cut. It makes you chuckle a bit.

“What’s so funny?” Agatha says, clearly annoyed by Rio’s presence.

“I just think it’s funny the road gave you matching deep V’s.”

Rio chimes in, “It’s because we go together. Don’t we, Agatha?”

“No,” Agatha walks away after that.

You see Rio briefly deflate and you place a hand on her shoulder, “You’ll get her champ.”

“And you?” She looks at you in only the way that she can. Doe eyes, warmth & sorrow mixed together, pleading for the best outcome.

“I’m your familiar, Rio. Eventually it’s in my best interest to come back to you,” you reply and try to walk off.

“You are my love, Y/n. More than you’re my familiar,” her words stop you.

“Good to know,” is all you can manage to say before walking off.

You look around a bit, wondering exactly how this was all possible. You knew that road wasn't real, so where were you? What was this, and how did Agatha manage to get others to do this with her?

You notice after awhile Agatha and Rio are missing. Against your better judgment you look for them. You find them in what looks like a producer’s area. They’re stood next to each other talking about the glory days.

You don’t interfere until you see Agatha’s hand slide across the intercom. Before Rio can fall into Agatha’s poorly executed trap, you clear your throat interrupting the conversation.

You walk over cautiously, and fit yourself in-between the pair, effectively moving Agatha away from the intercom.

“Planning a character assassination so soon, Agatha? What’s the rush?”

Rio’s eyes land on the intercom and she laughs, “Clever as the day we met.”

“I see you’re taking her side again,” Agatha says pointedly.

“I never took sides and you know that,” you fire back at her.

Agatha scoffs, “Well you came out of the dirt together so…”

“You know how the summoning work Agatha, don’t play dumb,” you counter.

Agatha throws her hands up in exasperation, “So what, I’m supposed to believe that you two haven’t been living it up together this whole time.”

“Why do you think I was alone when I came to see Agnes?” Rio interjects.

Agatha stumbled for a moment, “Because it would’ve been weird to have another person with you in my show.”

“I haven’t seen Rio in close to 300 years,” you admit.

“ Boo hoo poor baby. That doesn’t have anything to do with me,” Agatha mocks you.

Your voice takes on an echo again, “IT HAS EVERYTHING TO DO WITH YOU! YOU LEFT ME!”

Your argument is interrupted by some loud distorted sound. It makes you cover your ears and close your eyes. You gather around Teen who played the record as a clue. The room begins to spin backwards like the record and the sound intensifies.

Agatha smashes the record player on the ground which immediately stops the song.

Lilia speaks up, “We’ve been cursed.”

Its only a matter of seconds before she screeches and hits the floor.

You see this and start muttering under your breath. Alice springs into action taking Rio’s knife and carving a circle around Lilia.

You keep chanting to yourself. Everyone but Agatha and Rio were concerned around Lilia.

“What are you doing?” Agatha questions, but you just keep chanting.

Your fingertips glow dully as you touch them to your shoulders.

“I am protecting myself,” you say once you’re finished.

Jen gets hit next and once again Alice draws a circle around her. Teen also gets attacked, being flung through the glass mirror. Alice reveals that the curse is hers after that. It’s generational, meaning that it is harder to expel than most.

“We have to sing the ballad,” Agatha says.

She goes back and forth with Alice before they come to an agreement. Everyone picks up and instrument except you. You sit as an audience member.

“What, you’re too cool to play?” Jen asks.

“You don’t need me to play, so I’m not playing,” you shoot back.

Teen tries to encourage you, “The more people we have, the easier this might be.”

Your eyes are engulfed by black once more and your voice echoes dangerously , “I’m not playing that song.”

Agatha can’t help but look at Rio in that moment. The pair are the only ones who know why you aren’t interested in singing the song.

“Let’s just start,” Agatha begins singing before anymore arguments could be made.

You hate what has become of the song. Nicky’s sweet song, was now the witch killer’s anthem. You felt like it was disgraceful. It hurt you even more when Agatha did nothing to stop the song from becoming some rock anthem. Finding out that Lorna used it to protect her own daughter softened the blow a little bit, but not entirely.

Watching them preform you notice Teen wincing while holding the guitar. Your eyes scan his body looking for indicators of injury. It’s not highly noticeable, but you spot blood seeping through his side.

Against your own beliefs you stand and begin to walk over to him. You sing the tune lowly under your breath, before taking the guitar from him.

You can see he wants to argue but you nod your head towards the seating area. Your eyes drop to his side to let him know, that you know that he’s hurt.

He looks annoyed, but takes a seat anyway opting to just sing the ballad instead.

Your eyes lock with Rio’s and you glance towards the kid. She shakes her head slightly and you focus on playing the song.

Once Alice defeats her curse, Teen is laid across the sitting area. His breathes are shallow. Agatha is the first to rush over to him.

“He’s bleeding we got to get him out of here.”

You all take him back to the road and lay him across a large stone. You sit back with Rio watching the group panic. The most panic being evident in Agatha.

She turns to Rio, “Don’t.”

The woman beside you makes no gesture. Agatha starts pleading with Jen to fix it.

“She needs water and moonlight,” you speak up.

It seems to give the potions witch an idea. Alice gathers the water and Jen starts chanting in the moonlight. She pours the water over Teen’s injury and it starts to close up.

Agatha’s gaze falls upon you and Rio once more. Before she goes to help move Teen.

“You’re here for him, why?” You ask the woman beside you.

“That’s not his body. I can’t just-”

You shake your head, “You can. So why don’t you want to?”

“Once is already pushing the limit, but to let him get away with it twice. It’s not fair, it’s unbalanced,” Rio argues.

“What is 2 souls to the hundreds of thousands that perish daily? You have William and you will have the other. You and I both know that you don’t need the body to reap the soul.”

She sits quietly, no reply on her tongue.

“I think you’re here because Agatha is here,” you say.

She glares at you and speaks through gritted teeth, “Does it not bother you that she walks down this road with another woman’s son pretending that he’s ours? She knows he’s not.”

You look at the ground.

“I know you hate it, just like you hate what they did to his song,” Rio pushes further.

“Grief is different for everyone. Agatha is still grieving and I don't think she’ll ever stop. I can’t blame her, I grieve him every day. I know you do too,” you speak softly, getting up from your spot.

You leave her with those words. Maybe you shouldn’t seek her out, but you look for Agatha.

You come across the camp set up before you find Agatha.

“Do you have any scars Y/n?” Lilia is the one to ask.

You take a seat around the fire.

“A bunch, physical and emotional,” you lift your shirt.

There's a long scar that goes diagonally across your stomach. Your finger caresses it gently.

“Jesus Christ,” Alice says.

“It’s fairly new,” you keep your eyes on the scar.

“What happened?” Lilia speaks gently.

It’s then that Agatha and Rio join the circle. They sit on either side of you, both looking at the scar.

“Got captured by some witches. They tried to kill me, harvest my organs, etc.”

“How did you get captured?” Agatha asks, not really believing your story.

Your leg starts to bounce a little, “Well, I wasn’t with anyone else and I hadn’t been around… the people I need for my power to be at my strongest. So I was weak in that sense.”

“How did you escape?” Jen asks.

You shook your head, “I got lucky. They got bored eventually because I um- I can’t really die. They ‘left me for dead’ so to speak, but Death never came for me.”

“You’re immortal?” Alice deadpans.

“No one is immortal, I’m just really hard to kill. I have an intense healing factor,” you admit.

“Then why the scars?”

You keep your gaze low, “Because I didn't have my full power. I had enough to close and heal the wound, but the longer I was there the harder it was to make them pretty.”

You hate the silence that follows.

You hear Agatha roll up her sleeve. She gives a one liner about some coven that she wiped out. It’s funny and everyone laughs. You can see it takes her by surprise and it puts a small smile on your face.

“I have scar,” Rio starts.

“No you don't,” you and Agatha say at the same time.

“Yes, I do,” Rio goes on to describe the most fragile parts of your relationship .

She’s vague but you can hear the hurt in her voice. She finishes the story, but doesn’t look at Agatha.

Agatha storms off first, Rio trailing behind her, and you hesitate but ultimately end up following Rio.

Agatha stands with her back towards the both of you. Rio chooses to stay behind her while you walk around to face her.

Agatha’s head lulls back onto Rio’s shoulder. One of her hands snakes it’s way under your shirt, running the path of the scar. You keep close to her, but don’t move.

She puckers her lips as if to kiss Rio. You can see the fight inside of the original green witch. She wants this so badly, but she must push.

You do it for her. Your hands gently grab Agatha’s face pulling her towards you. You close your eyes as your forehead rests against hers.

“My love, Teen is not-”

“I know,” she whispers, and she starts to pull away.

“Please,” you hold her in place. “Please, let me have you close for a second. Both of you.”

It had been centuries since the three of you were this close. The raging fire inside of you finally resting after all this time. The relief that spread through your body was like a cooling agent.

Rio and Agatha both take notice for the first time, realizing how tense you had been since your appearance on the road.

“How long did they keep you?”

“Some years,” you answer quietly.

Agatha whips around to stare at Rio, “Where were you?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Rio redirects the blame.

“I left her with you so -”

“SHE WASN’T SOMETHING TO BE LEFT!” Rio let’s out an outburst. She takes a deep breath before continuing, “She is our familiar. Not mine, not yours, but ours together Agatha. It hurts her to be apart from either of us.”

“What did you want me to do? Forget what you did to my son?”

“OUR SON,” Rio’s voice booms louder than you ever heard it before. You swear the entire road shakes with the reverb.

You move forward to put a hand on Rio’s shoulder. You can feel her shaking with emotion. At first you think it’s anger, but then you see her tears fall.

“He was our son too Agatha. I didn’t want you to forgive me, I’ve never forgiven myself. I wanted you to mourn with me, with Y/n. I wanted us to have each other because we needed it.,” It’s defeated when Rio says it.

“I did mourn,” Agatha argues back.

“No, you didn’t,” you interrupt them, but your eyes were far away.

“How would you know you weren't there?” Agatha retaliates.

You sigh, “You act like I didn't want to be there. Like I was the one running and hiding. I know you haven't mourned because we wouldn’t be here if you had. We all know that this is not real. You’re singing his song… walking this road with this boy that you want to be him.”

“You can't deny my grief.”

“He asked you not to. You promised him, Aggie. It was his last promise.” Your voice cracks as your tears begin to form. “And you didn’t just break it, you took his song. Our song… and you used it to do the one thing he begged you not to.”

By this point you were choking on your sobs. The sight of you broke Agatha’s heart.

“I was grieving, I was angry, and I was alone!”

You fight her again, “You didn't have to be alone!”

“Well we can't go back and fix that, now can we?”

You groan, “No, but we can move forward if you just stop running.”

Rio stops the argument, “Enough! Y/n, she doesn’t care about us. The only person she cares about is herself.”

Agatha lets her anger out, shoving the green witch, “That’s bullshit.”

Rio shoves her back, “Is it now?”

Agatha spears Rio to the ground, “You know that I love both of you. That I care for you more than I’ve cared about anything other than my- our son.”

Rio flips their position so that she’s on top of Agatha, “Then why are we fighting?”

Agatha’s chest heaves up and down; Rio’s moves nearly the same. Agatha's hand reaches up to caress Rio’s face. At that same moment Rio leans in.

They kiss. You gasp , not at all expecting things to turn so quickly. A smile of relief coats your face as you watch them. You feel a pleasant warmth spreading across your chest.

“I love you,” Agatha says against Rio’s lips.

Rio smiles, “I love you too.”

“Finally,” you say exasperatedly, causing them both to laugh.

“Are you just going to stand there and watch like a weirdo or are you going to come over, pet?” Agatha says.

You roll your eyes, but continue to make your way over to them, “You know I hate it when you call me that.”

When you’re close enough Rio pulls you into her quickly stealing a kiss from you. You blush at her brash affection. You try to hide your face in her neck, but Agatha’s finger hooks under your chin.

“What do you suppose I call you then?”

You lean into her grasp, “Yours.”

Her lips graze yours as she speaks, “Mine.”

Your lips meet hers fiercely. She pulls you from Rio's lap fully onto hers. Instead of sliding up your shirt like before her hands travel lower. The feel on her fingers causes you to moan lowly, the sound echoing as your eyes filled with black.

“Not here, not yet,” you feel Rio’s breath tickling your neck.

You whine, “Centuries apart and still teasing.”

Agatha let out a hearty laugh, “Let’s get back to the others.”

Agatha and Rio are up first, helping you to your feet. You walk between them, feeling whole for the first time in a long time. Rio’s hand is in yours, while Agatha runs her fingers through your hair.

You still had things to work out amongst each other. One talk or a kiss cannot fix everything you’ve all been through. Yet talking and kisses amongst the three of you are known to be promises. Promises of a better future united together.

[novy2sirius]

numerstrology notes.

₊˚⊹ some astrologers believe astrology and numerology cannot collide but personally i have found the degrees in astrology to accurately align with numerology — tw: killing/murder

the most common beauty degrees are 1º, 2º, 5º, 9º, 14º, 18º, 23º, 25°, and 27º placed in the sun, moon, ascendant, venus, and neptune. people with these degrees in these placements will get told they’re beautiful a lot by people and will be seen as very beautiful to society

having the sun, venus, or jupiter at 8°/13°/24°/28° can indicate gaining wealth at some point in your lifetime as these are numbers associated with wealth and money

you’ll often find that successful actors have prominent 5°/9°/14°/18°/23°/27° in their chart. usually the ascendant, moon, mars, midheaven, or neptune

your midheaven at 7°/9° is an indication of being known by the public for your intelligence since 7 is the number of intelligence and 9 is the number of the mind. albert einstein has this placement

mercury at 4°/13°/22° can indicate that you had a very challenging childhood and were often misunderstood by a lot of people. you may have been very insecure as a child as well

people with saturn at 6°/15°/24° often have a toxic family or a toxic family member that they end up having to cut out of their life when they’re older so they can be happier

having both the degrees 1° and 11° in your big 3 can be challenging especially placed in the sun and ascendant. it can mean you struggle a lot finding out who you are and what path you want to take in life more so than other people

people with mars at 7°/16°/25° are often a part of the lgbtq+ community because these numbers are most prone to being a part of the community and mars is associated with our sexuality

people with pluto at 9°/18°/27° have the ability to do really well with crypto and make a lot of money from it. pluto and 9 in numerology are both associated with extremes

having your mars at 1° can mean you attract a lot of enemies and jealous people. these people tend to get hated on for absolutely no good reason. mars represents enemies and 1 is a number that can be associated with jealousy in numerology

don’t become enemies with someone that has their pluto at 1°/10°. you will regret it. they’re quite vengeful and hold grudges when someone hurts them. pluto represents things like revenge and 1 is the number of aggression/grudges

people with venus at 7°/16°/25° do not like dating dumb dumbs. if you want to keep them you need to have brains. ditziness drives them crazy. they are most attracted to smart people and people that can teach them a lot. the only reason they would stay with someone long term who was dumb is for good sex

people with multiple 11°/29° placements usually hang out with people older than them. they’re old souls and often mature very quickly from a younger age than most. they’re the type to say their first word at 3 months old and be potty trained by 1 years old

it’s rare to find someone with jupiter at 5°/14°/23° that’s not entertaining. jupiter is associated with abundance and 5 in numerology represents entertainment

22 degrees can actually be associated with killing. i know this is controversial and astrologers try not to discuss things like this but in numerology 22 is associated with destruction so often it represents things like violent tendencies. 4 in general can be a more violent number. i have found a lot of people who have either been murdered or murdered someone else have this degree but don’t worry because obviously majority of people with this degree have been fine. it just means the people who DO/HAVE will often have this degree. 24 is another one that’s common

on a more positive note 22° can be great for becoming an author. especially when placed in the midheaven, mercury, or in jupiter

[dewdrop-collective]

I think a big part of the reason that I went from anti-endo to endo-safe was absolutely due to how starkly different the communities felt.

Anti-endo communities were hard to engage with. Sure, some of them would focus on their support for each other more than their hatred of endogenic systems. And that's great! However, when you are brought together by your dislike of a certain group, you can't help but feel the hate permiate into so much of it. It always happened eventually. Anti-endo communities had such a focus on systems who were "fake" that I couldn't help but worry I was one of them, no matter how much they told me it was "just endos" they were concerned about.

The endo community (at least the parts I've engaged with and were easy to find) were so kind and respected me as a system, no matter how I felt or my plurality presented. Simply knowing we could find joy in our plurality allowed us to strive for so much more than we had thought possible before.

As a traumagenic system, we've improved so much with our symptoms and communication as a result of the positivity and acceptance we recieved. When we joined communities where we could be authenticallly ourselves (no matter what), we came together and faced so much less conflict between each other. And the conficts we did have, we realized that we could solve them together rather than alone.

When you are constantly doubting if you are "actually a system", you start to push the others away, and that made our dissociation and amnesia so much worse. I understand being careful of self-misdiangnosis, it can put you on the wrong path for how you learn to manage your symptoms. At the same time, the sentiment I often heard from endogenic systems when I was struggling with doubt and denial was very simple: "So what if you're not a system?" In short, it was okay to be wrong.

And that was huge for me. I realized that, no matter if I was a system or not, the techniques I used to improve ourselves and communicate with one another beneficial to me. At the end of the day, even if I wasn't a system after all, the skills I had found we invaluble to my health and well-being. So when I fall into denial spirals, no matter what I think about myself, I now know that I don't need to deprive myself of what has helped me, even if it is a "system thing." I don't feel scared to use these skills anymore (even in denial spirals), beacuse the line between what systems and non-systems or singlets can/can't do suddenly wasn't a big deal or a battle of "who can do what."

Our plurality is no longer a burden or a scar to us. It is simply who we are. We've learned so much about each other and ourselves since we've been accepted in full, and since we've learned to accept others. Endogenic communities have helped us (a traumagenic system) probably more than they'll ever know, and we're forever grateful for that.

So thank you, endogenic systems.

[norrizzandpia]

this might have to be more than one part, but can you please write a wrong number lando fic? like lando texts the wrong number somehow and they end up becoming good friends, they start falling for each other but lando lies about his identity the whole time until they meet or he tells the reader. and she’s pissed and she doesn’t know anything about f1 anyways so she doesn’t understand why he lied. with angst and stuff? idk if this is too specific or too much to ask!

Wrong Number, Right Person (LN4)

Summary: A wrong number leads Lando right to Y/n, but even the beautiful love they find together struggles to stand a chance against Lando’s lie of identity.

Warnings: none, BUT A HAPPY ENDING!!! Y/n’s bsf threatens to kill lando lol

Note: she is LONG! The word count is almost 9k oml but i have to say that @piastrification was a major help in making this because she read it for me and made it read less stupid! She also gave me some ideas so credit to her for that xx

If there was any moment where Y/n was beyond confused with absolutely no inkling of an answer, it was now. She stared down at her phone, clutching the device as she read over the message sitting on her Lock Screen over and over.

“What’s wrong?” Her best friend, Annie, asked. Her eyebrows were scrunched together in a way she had always done since they were kids, Y/n loved the way that had never changed. The two women had experienced so much growth over the years, but it was heartwarming to see some things hadn’t.

Her eyes flickered to Annie before turning her phone around, “Why does this person think I’m supposed to be meeting them in half an hour?”

Annie laughed out loud, taking the phone from the other girl’s hands and typing out a reply, “Seems like this poor person has the wrong number.”

When Y/n’s phone is returned to her grasp, she giggles at what Annie had done.

Unknown Number

Hey! Just letting you know I’ll be there in thirty minutes. Hope you aren’t running late like last time…

Y/n

Uh, I’m actually running really behind schedule. I won’t be able to get there until around three hours from now. Sorry.

The two girls continued their lunch, feeling a bit bad about messing with a stranger’s plans but laughing nonetheless. It wasn't until Y/n’s phone started blowing up that the color began to drain from their faces.

Unknown Number

WHAT? THREE HOURS????? WHAT?

Unknown Number

YOU’RE MESSING WITH ME RN

Unknown Number

If you don’t answer me in .5 seconds, I WILL show up to your house and wreck your shit

Unknown Number

LIKE WHAT? THREE HOURS? WE’VE HAD THESE PLANS FOR WEEKS MATE

Unknown Number

Literally answer me rn or I’m telling Oscar to help me plan your murder

Y/n’s hand clasped over her mouth as she frantically began to type out a reply, guilt settling over the amusement.

Y/n

You most definitely have the wrong number. Sorry, me and my friend thought it would be funny to tell you that your plans were basically ruined. Our bad. But, I have no idea who Oscar is and I pray for the person you are meaning to text rn. Plz don’t wreck their shit!

His response was immediate.

Unknown Number

Oh… sorry for my small outburst then. But, how am I meant to know this isn’t actually the person I’m trying to get a hold of?

Y/n laughed before Annie suggested taking a picture and sending it to the mysterious number. Probably stupid considering they had no idea who was on the other side of the phone, but an image was sent regardless.

Y/n

*Image Attached*

Y/n

I am most definitely not whoever you are trying to get a hold of.

The number doesn’t respond for a few minutes, busy for all they know or getting bored of texting a supposed stranger. However, her phone dings on the table and the two girls peek to see the response.

Unknown Number

Woah, you are for sure not who I am meant to be texting right now.

Unknown Number

You are very pretty tho

Y/n giggled,

Y/n

Thank you, but not thank you if you are an old man or serial killer. I don’t take compliments from psychos.

Unknown Number

Haha no I am not an old man or serial killer. I’m a child in a 24 year old man’s body.

Y/n

How do I know this for sure?

Unknown Number

Trust me?

Y/n

Okay, ig. What’s your name?

The food comes to the table and Annie begins to dig in, watching her best friend closely before the girl puts her phone down.

“He stopped responding. I asked for his name. Probably got scared or something.” She murmurs before cutting into her chicken. Annie nods her head side to side before they take up another topic of conversation, seemingly moving on from the previous random male who had interrupted their lunch.

However, there’s another vibration on the table ten minutes later. Y/n picks up her phone.

Unknown Number

Robert :) But, people call me Bob. What’s yours?

Y/n

I am going against everything my parents ever taught me by telling a stranger my name and what I look like… but I’m Y/n :)

Y/n

Btw bob sounds like a fake name that’s so funny

🏎️

The next day, Y/n wakes up to yet another message from Bob- who had begun to take up the majority of her text notifications’ real estate. She didn’t mind in the slightest, though. They got on like a house on fire, banter, jokes and conversation free-flowing at any given time.

Bob!

Good morning :)

Bob!

Wait, is it morning for you? Where do you even live?

Y/n

Okay, stalker. It’s literally 9 am, why am I already having to deal with a man trying to get my address.

Bob!

GIRL WHAT? That isn’t what i meant and you know it, Y/n

Y/n

Yes, i know what you meant, bob. I’m just joking lol

Y/n

I live in London! What about you?

Bob!

Monaco

Y/n

Shit, girl. You’re rich asf?

Bob!

NO nah nah nah. Y/n, I literally work as a server here. I enjoy the glamor tho

Y/n

Oh… so no diamond necklaces :( You could’ve been my sugar daddy, bob.

Bob!

😭

Y/n

No i joke I JOKE i can buy my own damn diamond necklaces

Bob!

Of course you can, Y/n. I’m not surprised.

Her heart warms at his portrayed support, and even though her bank account is in the negative, she likes to think Bob believes in her just as Annie does. Maybe he actually did.

She shakes her head at her thoughts. I’ve known him for a day, she thinks. He shouldn’t already mean this much to her. She doesn’t even know him.

Y/n

Ty, bob :) I have to go though. I have so much to get done today.

Bob!

Ok! text me when you’re free?

Y/n

yesss

—

There is a small void in Y/n’s body as she unlocks the front door of her apartment. A day of being broken down has taken its toll on her. Usually, it doesn’t get to her, the stress and pressure of it all, but today, as she flops down onto her ratty couch, part of her wants to give up.

Her phone buzzes underneath her leg.

Bob!

Are you free yet?? It’s been all day, y/n!!!

Y/n

sry, i just got home.

Bob!

Just now? Didn’t you leave at like 9:30 this morn??

Y/n

yeah

Bob!

Y/n, its 10:45 at night for you

Y/n

that would be correct… how did you know that?? Tracking my time zone, Robert?

Bob!

you might be scared to hear I have London saved on my world clock so I can see it at all times

Y/n

thats love fr

Y/n

but yeah its been a long day

Bob!

oh, well, im sorry :( how are you? Tired?

Y/n

Yeah, definitely. Just a hard day in general.

Bob!

Talk to me about it then <3

Her face blushes before the color is being forced back beneath her face. She doesn’t know this man enough to tell him all her sorrows. He’s just being nice.

Y/n

it’s ok. Thank you tho bob

Bob!

Who else are you planning to talk to abt it then?

Y/n

no one?

Bob!

you need to talk about it y/n to let it go. Talk to me.

Y/n

We barely know each other.

Bob!

Do i look like i care?

She laughs and types,

Y/n

Bob, I don’t even know what you look like

Bob!

We’ll fix that someday :) Now talk to me about everything

Y/n takes a breath before her fingers begin flying across the keyboard.

Y/n

People are just mean. I try so hard everyday to give my all and my best effort, to not let people down, but I seem to still do it. I can’t quite get things right and my boss is suffocating me with the way he looms over me like I can't hold my own. It makes me think I can't. There’s no room for mistakes or excuses, you have to be perfect in the office i work and i will never be that. There’s this other girl who holds my same position yet she does it so much better. I will never hold a candle to her and I know that. She’s everything I want to be because she accomplishes everything I can't. My boss knows it, everyone knows it, and it makes me feel like an outsider. I can’t share certain memories with these people or fit in quite right because I haven't been able to achieve the same success as they have. I know I’m just starting out and I have the rest of my life to surpass them, but what if I can't? What if I am never able to gain a good understanding and I am constantly behind?

There are tears pooling in her eyes as she relives the moments of her day when certain tasks were given to this girl she envies, Sam, while her boss gave her a look that had her close to quitting on the spot. Sam gets to revel in the future while Y/n stays in terror of it. A career path she has wanted all her life taunting her.

Bob!

I can relate to that. I can understand the feeling of seeing everyone around you get something you want so dearly while you share the same tools they do and yet you still come up empty. But I’ve also learned that good things come with time and we can’t always be yearning for something that isn’t meant to happen right now. What’s meant to happen will happen for you, I’m sure of it, Y/n. I know it’s hard to not be jealous or feel inadequate, but you just have to make peace with the fact that you try your best and that’s enough. You’re a good person, Y/n. All the good will come to you.

There’s something in his words that makes her feel heard and for once, Y/n finds peace in another’s reassurance. She doesn’t want to think about what that means toward who Bob is to her.

Y/n

Thank you. That means a lot.

Bob!

Of course. I wish I would’ve had someone telling me that when I was experiencing it.

Y/n

When were you experiencing it?

Bob!

A few years ago. But, that doesn’t matter.

Y/n

You’re always vague, bob. Give me something please? I’ve told you so much.

Bob!

There’s not much to tell, Y/n.

Y/n

You’re a server. Is that something you want to do for the rest of your life?

Bob!

I don’t know. I’m still figuring it out.

Y/n

VAGUE

Bob!

Ok, okkk!! I don’t want to be a server for the rest of my life. I think I’d like to work in Formula One. I’ve always loved racing and cars, the thrill of speed and all that. Trying to be Max Verstappen fs

Her eyes twinkle,

Y/n

Haha yeah right brotha

Y/n

That’s great tho! I think you’d be great in Formula One, Bob. I’ve heard of it but not a huge fan. It seems boring.

Bob!

Damn, shitting on my favorite thing… but thank you, Y/n. I think I’d be great too.

Y/n

You know i didn’t mean it that way!! What about your family?

Bob!

If you’re gonna ask me all these questions, should we just call?? Might be easier haha

She stares at his text for a moment, only a few seconds, before his contact name is large on her screen as his call awaits her answer. She clicks the green button and puts the phone to her ear, suddenly nervous to hear his voice for the first time.

“Y/n?” His deep, husky tone fills her ears and the truth of his identity begins to genuinely reign true. His voice is none of some old, slimy man. She could see it fitting someone younger, handsome even. Part of her even wants to say he sounds familiar.

She breathes, “Bob?”

There’s a silence that passes between them, a line crossed in the random relationship they’d surprisingly developed. Rustling sounds from Bob’s end, sheets moving before Y/n adds to the commotion, her heels falling to the floor once she pushes them off.

“Are you going to ask me about my family?” He asks, a hint of laughter in his voice.

Y/n giggles, “Tell me about your family, Bob.”

He lets out a small noise of confirmation, “Well, I have two sisters and a brother. A mom and dad. Still married. I don’t know, what do you want to know?”

The two laugh together at his sudden loss of words before Y/n speaks, “Uh, tell me about your parents. Any crazy love stories in the family?”

“No, they got together relatively normal. They’ve been together since they were younger and they’re still in love to this day. They set up a great example for me.”

Y/n rises from her couch, putting Bob on speaker, and moving into her bedroom to get ready for the end of the night. His voice echoes off the walls of the glistening white walls of her bathroom as she asks him more questions about his siblings and relatives. The way he speaks so highly of them makes the pull to him she feels stronger. Something about him seems too good to be true, but she wouldn’t say that out loud. She believes too much in the power of a jinx.

Bob somehow changes the conversation to her, asking her further about her job and her worries. It’s scary how easy it feels to open up to him, things she had a hard time even telling Annie. Maybe it’s the anonymity of him, the elusiveness of the man she truly doesn’t know. However, none of that matters wholly as she lays in bed, eyes trained on the fan above going in circles as she talks about insecurities she’s had since she was a kid.

“It’s hard to know what traits you truly hold, you know? I can be the sweetest to one person, but horribly mean to another. I don’t want people to think I’m armed with ill intent. Sometimes things just don’t come out the way I want.” She whispers, arms sitting heavy over her stomach.

Bob sighs, “It’s scary how much we share in common. I’ve felt that way too many times before. You can never be too careful with your words and it just hits so hard when people don’t understand who you truly are at your core. If they did, they wouldn’t think I was saying something with malice.”

She smiles to herself. It’s as if he lives in her head. “I don’t think you’d mean anything malicious, Bob.”

He chuckles, “I don’t think you’d mean anything malicious either, Y/n.”

The quietness of her name on his lips brings her closer to sleep and it’s the way he begins to ramble about how much he loves to talk to her that sends her over the edge, a warmness accompanying her body to sleep.

Bob keeps talking for a few minutes before her silence is deafening and he realizes what’s happened. Still, he talks, traumas and all, because something about knowing she’s there makes him not want to hang up.

🏎️

“So, you’ve been talking to this guy for how long?” Annie questions, her eyebrows pulled together just as they always have while she stares bewilderedly at Y/n.

“Three weeks,” She replies, a message from Bob appearing on her screen just as they utter his name.

Annie stares at her, “And you don’t know what he looks like?”

Y/n shakes her head lightly, “No…”

Annie scoffs, “Y/n! That’s so stupid! He could be stalking you for all we know!”

“No! He’s not stalking me, Annie. I think I know him now, really. In the beginning, no, but we call all the time and we talk about anything and everything. He’s sweet and he’s everything I’ve ever been looking for in a guy.” Y/n is quick to defend, her phone in her hands as Bob calls her.

Annie glances down to the ringing phone, “Is that him?”

Her challenging look makes Y/n nod slowly. Annie lurches forward and Y/n yelps just as her best friend yanks the phone out of her hands and answers the call.

“ANNIE!” Y/n yells, grasping for the phone while Annie just moves away.

Bob’s voice meets Annie’s ears, “Y/n?”

“This is Annie, Y/n’s best friend. I’d like to know your address and full name, seeing as my beloved friend has not gotten that information yet.” She demands, eyes glancing toward Y/n as she awaits the man’s answer.

Bob stutters, “Uh, my name is Robert Dancing. I live in Monaco.”

Annie shakes her head, “No, I’m talking address. Like, 12345 Hemingway Street.”

Bob laughs, “Can I just talk to Y/n?” There’s a hint of anxiousness in his voice that sends Annie into a manic spiral.

“No, tell me where you live.” She fires back.

“Annie!” Y/n tries again, grabbing onto Annie’s sweatshirt to pull her closer. When she’s within reach, Y/n reaches for the phone and snatches it back, much to Annie’s dismay.

Y/n apologizes, “Bob, I’m so sorry. Annie’s a little insane.”

He laughs and it lingers around her heart, “It’s okay. Just call me later, yeah?”

She nods and murmurs confirmation before hanging up. She turns to look at her best friend, a rare moment of betrayal. “Why would you do that?” She asks, annoyance radiating off of her.

Annie crosses her arms, “Because, Y/n! You don’t know this man.”

Y/n groans, “Yes, I do! Also, getting to know him by demanding his address seems satisfactory to you?”

“You’re being stupid, Y/n! I’m just looking out for you!” She raises her voice, anger getting in the way of truly getting her point across.

Y/n shakes her head, “Looking out for me would be trusting me when I ask that of you! You just completely went against everything I asked of you! I asked for support, not outraged behavior!”

Annie’s face drops, “You don’t get it! Y/n, you do not know this man! You didn’t even know his last name until I asked for you yet you’ve apparently told him all of your secrets?!”

Y/n begins to pack her purse in a moment of fury, “No, Annie, you don’t get it!”

As she stands at the cusp of the front door, Annie yells back at her, “Stop falling in love with someone you can’t trust!”

Y/n closes the door shut, a huff coming from her lips as she storms down the stairs, tears down her face. To have her best friend question her judgment regarding someone who means so much to her hurts immensely. Though, what hurts worse is knowing she might be right.

—

Max almost looks perplexed when Lando hangs up the phone.

“Robert Dancing? What the hell kind of name is that?” He teases, a patronizing tone.

Lando shakes his head, “I didn’t know what else to say! Dancing was the first thing that came to my head!”

Max crosses his arms over his chest, “Are you ever planning on telling this woman who you really are?”

Lando’s mouth opens and falls closed, at a loss for words, “I don’t know. I want to, but I know she’ll run. I don’t blame her. I’ve lied about fundamental things.” There’s a crease in his forehead as he continues, “I can’t lose her. I’m too addicted to the way she makes me feel.”

Max sighs, “I hate to say it, but you might, Lan. You told her you were a completely different person, betrayed her trust in an insane way. You’ve got something special, that counts for something, but you need to be prepared for the possibility of her never being able to find it in herself to forgive you. I don’t want you to get your hopes up and get hurt.”

“I won’t. I know the risks of what I’ve done, but I can’t take it back now. I just need to find the time to tell her. I will tell her and I’ll do it in a coherent, calm way.” He tries, but the two of them know he’s already gotten his hopes up. Max looks at him with faux confidence, knowing Lando’s found himself with someone it’ll cut deep to let go of.

Lando knows it too, knows the kind of pain that’ll shred through him if she leaves because of his mistake. It’s ironic in the way that a lie, one so unnecessary, is the thing that plagues his mind at night even as Y/n’s voice puts him to sleep.

🏎️

There’s a nagging in Y/n’s brain that pushes her to get out from under the covers of her bed and find her desk in the dark of the night. She sits in the chair with a creak before opening her laptop and the random browser she’s had tabs open in for days on end.

Her fingers however over the keys before typing in a dreaded question of truth.

“Robert Dancing.” She whispers as she presses enter and the screen begins to load. Her stomach churns and her eyes whip away, too scared to look. What would she do if nothing came up? What if Annie was right? What if Bob wasn’t who she thought he was after all?

But, then, his voice calls her back to the safety of her blind trust as it rings throughout her brain. He seems too nice to be what Annie had thought him to be. Bob is who she thinks he is, he has to be.

Her gaze takes one more look at the picture of her and Annie on her nightstand before she turns her head fully to find out her fate.

A blank screen with the haunting words, “Sorry, we couldn’t find what you were looking for.” stares back at her. For a moment, she thinks she must’ve spelled his name wrong and she tries multiple, very clearly wrong, versions of what his name could be in an attempt to console the last of hope dwindling out of her body.

Bob. A name in her mouth that now means nothing takes on what she had originally thought it had been. A fake name.

This can’t be, she thinks. There has to be some logical explanation. But, then again, Robert Dancing is not a typical name, something should come up for a server who lives in Monaco. A link to his social media would’ve shown. He’s young and living in Europe, there would be a trace of him.

Robert Dancing does not exist.

🏎️

Unknown

Y/n, you never called me back. Is everything okay?

Y/n

Everything is fine.

Unknown

Can I call you now?

Y/n

I’m busy.

Unknown

It’s been three days and I haven’t heard from you at all. Seriously, are you okay?

Unknown

Y/n, answer me. What’s going on?

Y/n

Stop messaging me.

Her body jolts in surprise when her phone rings aggressively against the desk at her work. She looks around sheepishly at her staring coworkers before grabbing the loud device and walking outside. The moment the door shuts behind her, she answers.

Bob speaks so quickly, “Y/n, what’s going on?”

She stares at the skyline, trying to find peace in the view, “What’s your name?”

Bob is quiet, “Robert Dancing. You know this.”

“No, I don’t. What’s your name?” She tries again, anger in her voice and sadness deep in her soul.

“Bob.” He states, breaking her heart once more.

Y/n scoffs, “I know that’s not your name. If you don’t start telling me the truth right now, I will hang up and block you.”

A door closes on his side and she hears him take a breath, “Okay, okay. Don’t do that. How’d you find out?”

A dry laugh leaves her mouth, mixed with astonishment, “Do you think I’m stupid?! You gave me what was supposed to be your full name, so I searched you up. Choose a name that actually comes up next time, yeah?”

“Y/n, I’m so sorry. You told me you would never think I meant malice by my actions. That should apply here.” He tries, but she just shakes her head.

“That was back when I thought I knew at least your name. Who ever are you? Do you even live in Monaco? Was any of it true?” She cries, somewhat surprised at the tears that have appeared.

He sounds disappointed, “Yes, it all was. I do live in Monaco and I have three other siblings. My parents are still married. All the things I told you were true, my doubts and insecurities. That wasn’t fake, Y/n.”

She pulls herself together, not ready to break down for a man so cruel, and wipes her tears, “What’s your name?”

“Y/n, I-”

She interrupts, determined, “What’s your name?”

A build up manifests from the silence he lets go on before he answers her dying question, “Lando Norris.”

Part of her was expecting him to say a name she would’ve recognized, but no part of her has any reaction to him. His name is just another one she wished to have been able to connect to another human being.

He takes her silence for realization and his body slumps against the wall behind him. Part of him knows she won’t, but another part worries she’ll take their situation and everything he’s told her to the press.

What she says next completely contradicts everything he built up in his head, “You act like that’s supposed to mean anything to me.”

With that, she hangs up the phone.

—

Annie and Y/n haven’t spoken since their fight a week ago, but the betrayal of it is pushed aside when Annie opens the door to find Y/n crying at her door.

No words are shared, Annie understands, and Y/n is ushered into the home, coaxed by her best friend to sit on the couch.

“What happened?” She whispers, her hand rubbing over Y/n’s back. Annie hates to see her best friend in such brokenness, even in a moment where she could tell her I told you so. That would do no one good, Annie knows that. Y/n doesn’t need to be proven wrong right now, she needs someone to sit with her when no one else seemingly won’t.

A sharp intake of breath and Y/n speaks, “He wasn’t who he said he was. Robert Dancing doesn’t exist. His actual name is Lando Norris. As if that means anything. Why would he lie?”

Annie cocks her head because it doesn’t make sense. Why would he lie? Lying about your life to make it seem more interesting than it was would make sense, but to blatantly lie completely about your identity? That didn’t make sense.

“Have you searched him up? Maybe it’s supposed to mean something?” She tries, genuinely lost at the situation.

Y/n shakes her head, tears falling to her lap as she hangs her head, “If I do and I see him, I don’t want to know. I already like him too much and that makes this hurt more than it should. If I see him, learn who he truly is, I’m scared I’ll never be able to let him go.”

Annie frowns, part of her wants to know about the man that put her friend in such a state. But, it’s not what Y/n needs as she cries on the beige couch. Her head fits in the crook of Annie’s shoulder as the girl turns on mindless TV for her friend.

Still, though, Annie knew she would find herself investigating Lando Norris later when Y/n fell asleep.

—

It’s ironic how similar Y/n and Annie look when they scour the internet for information about a specific man. Annie has a bit of blanket pulled over her lap as Y/n hogs the majority of it, the rise and fall of her chest a telltale sign of needed slumber.

The face of Lando Norris stares back at her as she tries to think of this man calling her best friend at night, asking questions no one has before. He seemed bubbly in the few moments she spoke to him and when she clicks on a video of him in an interview, she knows immediately it's him. His voice is distinct as it speaks through a clear microphone. There were no lies in his second confession to Y/n.

From what she can tell, he’s a beloved member of the Formula One community, a sport she had never truly looked into because she assumed it was overrated. So, did Y/n. The off chance that Lando texted a random person and found something more with them, he lucked out that that someone was clueless when it came to the sport that made him famous.

Her breathing stops when she finds a video that titles Lando’s supposed telling of a woman he’s taken a liking to. The date of the video tells her it’s within the time frame of him and Y/n.

She glances at her sleeping best friend before clicking the link, his smiling face large on her screen.

Lando’s giggle is sweet, “Yeah, I guess you could say I’ve found someone. Or, at least, have a crush. This girl and I are definitely not official, but there’s something there, I think we can both feel it. I’ve never felt so free with someone.”

The reporter, out of view from the watcher, coos, “That’s great, Lando! What’s her name?”

Lando gives the man a warning glance as he states authoritatively, “I won’t be handing that information right now.”

He clutches the microphone and Annie can see the way his body shifts with protectiveness. If anything, this is exactly the kind of way she had always wanted Y/n to be treated. Protected and cherished. From what she could gather, from the deepdive of articles and the stories Y/n had told, Lando did just that.

Her heart aches. A stupid man tried to protect himself whilst falling in love with a woman that never even knew who he was. They were never even given a chance.

Somehow, in a black out of pure sadness for Y/n who had always yearned to be adored in this way, Annie found herself buying a ticket to the next Grand Prix, Silverstone of all places.

With a crappy seat and no plan or guarantee of finding him, Annie knew she had to find Lando. She had to fight for something that wasn’t even hers.

🏎️

The commotion of fans surrounding the entrance to the paddock puts Annie on edge, not to mention the size of the crowd. She thought she got here early, wanting to be at the front so she could try and talk to him, but as she sees the large amount of people between her and the path where the drivers walk, hope diminishes. Still, she pushes through everyone, apologizing when she gets dirty looks. She knows how bad this looks, how much this most likely goes against common courtesy at races such as these. The face of Y/n with bloodshot eyes and a puffy face forces her to persevere, her best friend deserves someone like Lando.

She’s halfway through the crowd when it roars to life, screams emitting as people begin to stick McLaren hats and posters in the air. From the sliver of light she can see through some bodies, Annie watches Lando begin to walk through. He stops to sign for some fans and she pushes more forcefully, knowing this is her only chance.

He moves through it all with grace, but a certain speed that makes her heart pick up. He’s at the front of the crowd, about to step into the paddock and be lost completely to her when she yells, “Lando! It’s Annie!”

It’s the first thing that she can think of, hoping he’ll be reminded of Y/n’s voice when she tried to cover for her best friend’s moment of protection. Annie watches him pause, turn around slowly, as his eyes roam over the sea of people. He locks eyes with her as she waves her arms in the air, something passes between them and he begins running toward her. A connection to the woman he let down, one he hadn’t stopped thinking of in the weeks she had left him.

When he reaches her, Lando is stunned by her presence. “You’re Annie? Like Y/n’s Annie?” He whispers, the people around her screaming for his signature as she nods her head.

“Y/n’s Annie.” He looks to be fighting tears as he ushers a security guard over. “I need you to escort her into the paddock, to my driver’s room.”

The large man nods and Lando walks off, nodding at Annie gratefully. Once he’s gone from the premises, the guard moves the rope keeping people from bombarding the drivers up and lets her through.

The walk to wherever Lando had ordered is quiet as Annie takes in the money that surrounds her. People with Cartier jewelry and Birkens waltz around with an air to them that allows Annie to suddenly understand Lando. This is what he was afraid of. A greedy woman who would take advantage of the status he had and lie to him to get to his money and the money around him. While she understood, however, she still felt angry at his deceiving. Y/n was never given the benefit of the doubt.

The guard knocks on Lando’s door and it swings open, his sunken face coming into view and in the new light, Annie can see the love that Lando had found in her best friend. The effect of her leaving him is seen all over his body and from what she could gather during her time looking into him, he wasn’t doing as well as he usually had during races.

He motions for her to come in and when she does, the door closed, he begins talking, “Did Y/n send you here? Is she here? Can I talk to her? Does she want to see me? Is she forgiving me? Are you-”

Her heart breaks as she interrupts him and his quick anticipation of a reconciliation is crushed, “None of that is true. I’m here on my own terms. Y/n doesn’t know I’m here. At this point in time, she doesn’t want to see you, but I think that’s the shock of finding out about you.. That will wear off eventually. She’s hurt, Lando, but I also know she hates not talking to you. She hasn’t stopped talking about you. And I can’t stand to know that you two found something she’s always deserved, but let it slip away because of fears and betrayals.”

He sits opposite of her, staring at her and trying to find the answers he wants to hear in her eyes. He never does.

Lando rubs his palms over his eyes, “I never even got her last name. There was no way for me to find her.”

“Y/n Y/l/n.”

He lifts his head slowly, “What?”

At the look in his eyes, Annie smiles, “Y/n Y/l/n. That’s her last name. Actually, her full name, I guess.”

A small grin finds its way to Lando’s face and the way he touches his mouth lightly makes her think he hasn’t smiled in a while. “Y/n Y/l/n,” He whispers, smile widening as it all falls from his lips.

He’s even in love with her name, Annie thinks.

“Can you take me to her? I would like to be given the opportunity to fight for her.” He asks hesitantly, as if Annie hasn’t made it abundantly clear that she is here to help.

She nods, “I will tell you where to meet her, but first, I need you to tell me everything from the beginning, from your perspective.”

Lando’s head hangs and he begins, hands wringing together in his lap, “When I first texted her, I thought she was my friend, Daniel.”

“Daniel Ricciardo?” She asks, clarification needed for this story.

Lando’s eyebrows rise, “You know the sport?”

She shakes her head, “No, both Y/n and I never got into it because we didn’t think it was that exciting - sorry - but, I basically learned everything about your life and Formula One when Y/n told me your name.”

He nods and continues, “Well, yes, I thought she was Daniel Ricciardo, we were supposed to be meeting for lunch that day to just catch up before starting the new season. Well, as it turns out, he had changed his phone number over break because it leaked and never told anyone that he wasn’t needing to contact immediately during that time. I assume Y/n must’ve gotten a new number around the time because she got his.”

Annie thinks back before realizing Y/n had shattered her phone in the weeks before and ended up getting an entire new cell phone profile. New number, email, everything. She had said she liked the clean slate.

At her nodding, Lando talks once more, “When she sent me the picture of her, I immediately thought she was one of the most beautiful people I had ever seen in my entire life. That’s cliche, but it’s true. She’s still so beautiful to me. Um,” He shakes his head, tears having pooled in his eyes at the mention of her beauty, “I knew I wanted to keep talking to her, see where it went because I couldn’t just stop talking to her and never knew what could’ve been. So, I made a quick, impulsive decision. I lied about who I was because I just wanted her to treat me normally. I had no idea who she was or her morals, I couldn’t guarantee that she would treat me like everyone else. Obviously, when I learned of who she was and the deep parts of her that no one else got to see, I wanted to change it all. I wanted to tell her so many times who I was and what I wanted with her, what I saw with her, but I knew if I did, I would just lose her. So, I tried to find ways to keep talking to her, but also slowly introduce the truth. Clearly, I never found a way. When you called me, demanding my address and full name I panicked and didn’t think about what would happen if I said what was supposed to be my full name. You’re very scary, you know.” He chuckles, Annie does with him, “So, it all fell from there. She found out Robert Dancing was something entirely fabricated and she called me, telling me to tell her the truth. I was backed into a corner and everything I wanted, I needed, left me. That moment is ingrained in my brain.”

He breathes slowly, his eyes still on his hands, before whispering, “I miss her.”

Annie nods, “I know. So does she. That’s why you need to go to this address,” She hands him a small paper, “Meet her there on Monday at 7 PM, come prepared to tell her all of that and more.”

He clutches the paper like it’s his last lifeline and Annie smiles at how important Y/n is to him.

Lando glances up at her, “What do you mean by more?”

Annie continues to smile lightly, “That you love her. That you need her. That you’re sorry. Lando, remind her of what you two had.”

🏎️

The small apartment complex is daunting to Lando as he stands in front of it. Annie never told him where he was going or what he would be met with, but considering he’s here to see Y/n, he can only assume the building he stares at is her home. His anxiety only spikes. He does not want to mess up again. He doesn’t want to taint her home with even more pain, he thinks to himself, images of himself groveling and begging for her forgiveness flashing in his mind’s eye.

Nonetheless, he knows if he backs out, Annie would find his address this time and physically harm him.

So, the boy walks to the gate and rings her neighbor, following Annie’s instructions closely. He remembered how she told him if he rang Y/n, she wouldn’t let him in, being stubborn and all. Though, if he rang the neighbor, an older woman Annie called Lo, he had a chance.

“Hello? I’m here to see Y/n.” He said into the rusty speaker, a questionable smell infiltrating his nose.

A crackling sound emits from it before Lo is speaking back to him, “Are you Robert Dancing? Annie told me you would be coming.”

Lando laughs at the name, his random ideas being the reason for it, and murmurs a yes to her. She doesn’t say anything back, just a loud buzzing noise that tells him the door is unlocked.

When he walks through, part of him groans at the lack of an elevator. For an athlete, the man is lazy.

Thus, he begins his scale to the top floor, cursing himself for falling in love with someone who lives so high up.

He’s almost completely lost to his thoughts that he doesn’t realize Y/n’s door stands in his way once his feet hit the doormat. It dawns on him the time has come to meet her in person, having never before. It should be studied, he thinks, how he’s fallen in love with her without ever truly seeing her.

He knocks on the door, not wasting time before he truly aborts whatever mission he’s found himself on. And his heart soars when he hears her yell, “Coming!”

He’s only ever heard it over the phone. To hear it feet away from him is almost as exciting as the idea of her forgiving him.

The door unlocks and pulls open, revealing Y/n in a matching set of pajamas that he remembers her texting him about, asking if they were a stupid purchase or not. He told her to get them, she told him probably not, that she was poor, but she still had.

Her eyes land on him and he’s ready for whatever screaming he’s about to endure, but she just smiles at him.

“Hi! Can I help you with anything?” She acts as if she doesn’t recognize him and Lando realizes she doesn’t. Annie had mentioned something about Y/n becoming disinterested in seeing who he truly was, out of fear of becoming too attached. His mind must’ve not genuinely absorbed that information because he only understands it now.

She doesn’t know who he is.

He could do the same thing he had before, lie and tell her he’s someone else. Take the safer option and secure her love, but he takes a breath instead and remembers all Annie had told him. He’d already put her through so much, to do it again would be cruel.

“Y/n, I’m Lando.” He says while he watches her face fall.

Her hands fly to the door, about to slam it on his face, but he sticks his foot in right before she can. The impact hurts, but he continues with what he had practiced so many times on the way here.

“Please, Y/n, just hear me out.” He pleads as her cheeks fill with red. He’s almost sure it isn’t a blush.

“How’d you even get my address?” She says, astonished at who stands before her. Her eyes fall over his body, trying to understand the information. Who he is, what he wants.

“Annie.” He whispers, knowing her confusion will only heighten more.

Her mouth falls open and she yells, “ANNIE?!”

What he believes to be Lo, pops out from her behind her door at the yelling and Lando lowers his head.

“Can I come in? We shouldn’t have this conversation in the hallway of your complex.” He rubs a hand over the back of his neck, hoping she’ll agree. When she does, opening the door for him slowly, he flies forward. While he was ecstatic to be given another chance, he still fears for his image and what would be speculated about a seemingly heated conversation between him and another woman.

She guides him to the couch and they sit down. A familiar creak sounds that reminds him of the ones he would hear when they got into deep conversation during their nighttime calls. The image of her on the phone with him, concentration on her face as she listened to whatever he was revealing and getting comfortable on her sofa, makes him smile softly.

“Bo- I mean, Lando, you need to start talking. I don’t have all the time in the world to listen.” She gives, her tone ice cold. However, the break in it when she realizes she’s said his former, fake name makes the anger he felt over his lies further. He wants her to say his name, the real one. He wants her to say it with love and excitement, not distance. He wants her and his name on her lips.

“I never meant to hurt you. Actually, what I did was in an attempt to shield myself from any kind of bad faith. I didn’t expect to develop what he did. I didn’t even expect to open up to you in the way I did. I thought I could make a friend, one who didn’t know who I was and didn’t have any kind of bias toward me. I’ve always wanted that with someone, especially a partner. I saw an opportunity and I took it, not thinking through it all and I hurt you in the process. I’m so sorry, Y/n. From the moment we started truly talking, calling and all, I knew I had messed up, but I never found a way to tell you. Well, a way to tell you that wouldn’t result in you getting rid of me. I wish I could take it all back, but not you. Not what I got to experience with you, what I felt with you. You’re my favorite memory and you’ll never understand how grateful I am for you. You helped me through bad races even when you didn’t know, helped me through weird press interactions when you didn’t know. I loved that. I loved how at peace you made me feel. I can’t let this go without knowing I gave it everything I have and when Annie showed up at Silverstone, telling me I had to fight for you, I took whatever she had to give.”

Y/n stares at him, trying to digest it all, and murmurs, “Annie went to Silverstone?”

He chuckles lightly, “Yes, she came and she told me who she was, what she was doing there. She told me she knew what we had and she didn’t want you to lose something you’ve always deserved. She gave me this address and told me to come here at this time, told me to buzz Lo instead of you so I could come in. She told me I needed to remind you of what we had.”

Y/n goes red again, blushing this time. She smiles at the idea of Annie going to great lengths just to make her happy, “Annie sounds determined.”

Lando smiles along with her, “She was. She told me if I didn’t fight for you, she’d find me and kill me. She’s really scary, Y/n.”

Their eyes meet and Y/n is reminded of what once was, the way he made her feel. She misses him and knowing the intricate shade of brown in his eyes doesn’t help how much she wants to shut him out.

“I understand why you did what you did, but that doesn’t make it any better. You could’ve given up everything you were saying at any point in time and you didn’t. You only told me when I confronted you with it.” She whispers, disappointment evident in her voice. She plays with her fingers and Lando is close to taking them in his hand.

He nods, “I get that. But, I was scared to tell you because I was just so in love with you. I still am.”

Her eyes snap to his and a moment passes before she asks, “Still am? You love me?”

His cheeks turn cherry tomato, “Yes, of course, I am. The moment I realized you were safe enough to open up to, knowing my identity or not, I was in love with you.”

She groans and lets her face fall to her palms, “But, I’m in love with you too.”

He laughs and shakes his head, “Why is that a bad thing?”

Her eyes peek from over her hands, “Because I want to hate you.”

Finally, his fingers lace with hers as he brings them away from her face, “But, you love me. Isn’t that enough?”

She knows it is. He knows it is. Annie knows it is, even if she isn’t there. It’s a matter of if Y/n can put aside the grand web of lies he put together to let them have their shot at something that could be wonderful. In the warmth of his presence, she thinks she can.

🏎️

Y/n

Can you stop blowing up my phone

Bob <3

Why????? I’m bored baby

Y/n

im at work girly

Bob <3

girly 🤭🫶🏻🤗 plz go out to the balcony and answer me

Y/n

I think you might be obsessed with me

Bob <3

i made an alter ego so i could talk to you didn’t i?

Y/n

girl

She picks up his call as she closes the door behind her, the new office building she’s in allowing for a wider view of London. The new team she works with is less competitive than the last and their support is proving beneficial with the news she got today.

“My beloved girlfriend, are you free for lunch today?” Lando giggles into the speaker like the lovesick man he is. Y/n can hear Oscar make fun of him in the background.

She smiles, “I thought you were bored?”

“Yes, so now I’m asking if you want to have lunch with me” He answers as if it’s obvious. In the months after the soft moment shared between Lando and Y/n on her old couch, they’ve found something more than love between them. Lando says it’s destiny and Y/n says it’s a soulmate tie, but they agree that the love they once shared over the phone only grew once in person.

Y/n chuckles at his antics, “Sure, I will have lunch with you, Lan. Can you come pick me up though? I don’t want to drive.”

Lando makes a noise, “What did you think I was going to do? Make you drive yourself? No way. There’s one person in this relationship that drives cars professionally and it’s not you, sweetheart. Sorry to break it to you.”

Oliver, her coworker, comes to the door, asking for her assistance on something with a smile. She tells him she’ll be a minute and he nods, retreating back into the office quietly, “Sorry, my love. I need to go. But, you’ll be here when?”

Lando hums, “An hour?”

“Perfect! Oh, and, Lando?” She asks, her voice filled with joy as he responds, “You’ll have to come to the Junior VP’s office to pick me up.”

Silence is met with her sentence before Lando whispers, “Either I’m stupid and you have some big project I forgot about or you’re trying to tell me something that will actually make me lose my mind and sanity right now.”

She laughs loudly, “I got Junior VP, Lan. Youngest one yet.”

He shrieks, momentarily making Y/n go deaf, before screaming to everyone around him about his girlfriend’s achievement, “I’m so proud of you, baby! Oh my god! I’m so happy! We need to buy champagne! You can have your own podium moment! Holy shit, I’m so proud!”

“I would love that, Lan. Thank you. I love you.” She whispers the last part softly, three words that mean so much.

He’ll never get tired of hearing her speak of her love for him, “I love you too, Y/n.”

She’d never get tired of saying it.

[halemerry]

So there's a lot to unpack here but I want to start by talking about the ending and specifically about the Metatron and the calculating moves made at the end of episode 6.

Every single piece of what happened there was a manipulation technique being employed against Aziraphale to an almost brilliant degree and I'm honestly a little obsessed with what this says about the Metatron in particular.

Let's go in order.

First of all. We see him order coffee. In a human body. Something sweet and sugary. He talks to Nina and asks her about her shop name. Does anyone ever ask for death? And when she tells him no they don't his response is to say "so predictable". Our introduction to him here even when everything about him reads like a sweet old man is presented to show us someone who reads the world in terms of being predictable to him.

He then shows up in the middle of Aziraphale's existence being threatened. He immediately cuts down the threat's authority (using outdated language like Az himself would favor) and reemphasizes his own connection to Heaven. When Michael doesn't recognize him and he puts her down and then directly engages Crowley. Crowley who, to Aziraphale, has for centuries at a minimum been someone he thinks is smarter, better, more Good than these other archangels. The Metatron validates these beliefs. Crowley is more Heavenly than these archangels who couldn't even recognize the voice of God when he was standing right in front of them.

The Metatron draws attention to the fact he's in a human body. The kind of body Aziraphale has been in and loved for nearly 6000 years. He then banishes the archangels, implying their morality is in a gray space, and validates Muriel someone we have seen Aziraphale react positively to and someone outside the current power structure. Look at me, he's saying. I see and validate the little guy.

He then tries to talk to Aziraphale. Aziraphale says "I've made my position quite clear." And then the Metatron offers Aziraphale the coffee. This bartering chip, consuming sustenance, is a thing that Aziraphale and Crowley have used as their connective tissue for centuries. It's an olive branch for them. It's giving Aziraphale bodily pleasure and the Metatron implies that he himself has partaken also - a thing we know that Aziraphale has struggled historically with moralizing. He is seen by the closest thing he has left to his parent and he is having old fears validated as safe and old habits being played upon to make him feel secure

He then REMOVES Aziraphale from his home turf. Not only does he remove Crowley from the equation but he takes Aziraphale from the place that has stood as a place of sanctuary throughout the entirety of the season. The shop is Safe and Aziraphale is leaving it and he is leaving the one person who might be able to smell the bullshit coming from the Metatron. The music notably turns absolutely dire here.

The next time we see them the Metatron tells Aziraphale that he doesn't need to answer instantly. He can take his time, if he likes. All the time he needs. And then tells him to go tell Crowley. Once again bringing Crowley in as a valid part of this while manufacturing a scenario where he can't possibly be.

Az ends up in a place where he's overwhelmed and confused and he wants so badly to believe what he's being told. It's an appealing thing from his perspective! He feels off kilter like he's made a mistake in judging the Metatron. He can't even fully articulate what happened to Crowley at first and he's had absolutely no real time to actually think it through. He's running on sheer reactive energy.

The Metatron starts their conversation by asking Aziraphale's opinion. Who should rule Heaven? This is once again playing into making Az feel validated and like he's a part of this decision making process. The Metatron corrects him, complimenting Aziraphale and making him feel capable and in control. He reassures Aziraphale's bafflement. And draws attention to some traits that, while true of Aziraphale around Crowley, are not his defining traits in the eyes of Heaven. You don't just tell people what they want to hear I find particularly notable in this regard given Aziraphale spent most of his time on earth actively lying to Heaven and doing just that. But it fits into the narrative Aziraphale has built around himself, especially post Apocalypse. The Metatron then says I need you (a phrase Az will use much more painfully here in a minute).

And even after all this Aziraphale says no. He says flat out he doesn't want to go back to Heaven. He says this!!! And then the Metatron sweetens the pot. He swaps tactics. Not once has this come up until Aziraphale pushes back against the idea. If the Metatron could've gotten him without using it I have no doubt he wouldn't have bothered with it. Come to Heaven and we can save Crowley. Aziraphale loves Crowley. Aziraphale thinks Crowley is better than any of the angels he's interacted with. Crowley is Good and Nice and Kind and always saving him and now he's being presented with a way to return that. He can Forgive Crowley - a thing Crowley has always presented to Aziraphale as something he struggles with. All of these things Aziraphale has watched Crowley react to in a way that belittles himself or distances them from one another. Of course he wouldn't consider that maybe what he was actually saying is "I'm unforgivable and I don't want that forgiveness."

The Metatron offers Aziraphale a Dream Offer for the pre Armageddon Aziraphale. You can keep your Crowley. You can heal him like you have always thought he deserved. You can have power and control the people who for your whole existence has beaten you down. It can go back to how it was but BETTER.

When Aziraphale leaves he still hasn't answered. He goes and has the conversation they have. It's intense and emotional and the Metatron comes in after the Moment all casual and asks how it goes, knowing fully well the shitstorm he had just set up to get created. And then he turns around and says "always did want to go his own way" which is not only true of Crowley but framed as a bad thing despite the fact that he has just spent twenty minutes or so telling Aziraphale that he's done his own thing and that is Good. He is playing both sides of this perspective as it suits him. And then he cuts down Crowley asking questions, pressuring Aziraphale to avoid doing the same. He then proceeds to ask Aziraphale not if he's made up his mind but if he's ready to get started. He is one by one closing off exit routes to this thing as Aziraphale starts to look more and more panicked and indecisive. He makes sure the bookshop is in good hands and asks Aziraphale if there's anything he needs to take with him. Letting Aziraphale have the illusion of choice while cutting down "I don't want to" as an option altogether.

And Az, as soon as the Metatron is out of shot, tries to express this. And then he falls back right on old coping methods. The Metatron pats him on the head. Reassures that he's the right one for this. That he is Good. That his particular skillset is needed here.

It is a masterstroke of manipulation. A very dark twist on what we see Crowley do time and time again with Aziraphale throughout the millennia. Familiar in a way that makes Aziraphale feel safe. Except this time this is being used to put him back in line. It's brilliant and painful and it fucking hurt and I need a season 3 to see the Metatron get what's coming to him stat.

[prettieinpink]

HABITS TO IMPLEMENT BEFORE THE END OF THE YEAR ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹

DAILY AFFIRMATIONS

You can choose whatever time you’d like to say positive and affirmative statements to yourself. When saying affirmations, use the first person and present tense. E.g I am healthy, I take care of myself, and I am strong academically. 

Affirmations are so helpful because our brains struggle to tell the difference between imagination and reality. So, when we visualise ourselves doing something that's not actually happening, it stimulates the brain areas as if we were actually experiencing it.

So, repetitive affirmations will encourage your brain to treat it as fact. While this only works to an extent, it does help with self-sabotaging thought actions and thought patterns. 

EATING MINDFULLY

Eating mindfully is the practice of when consuming anything, you put your full focus on that meal. There are no devices that may distract you, you’re eating slowly and paying close attention to how different meals make your body feel. 

To eat mindfully, focus on the time it takes for you to finish your food. Is it enough time for your body to give signals about your meal? To chew thoroughly? Another thing is to turn off and eliminate any distractions. Such as being on any devices or multitasking. 

Eating too quickly means that your body may not have enough time to tell you that it's full. When you eat mindfully, it's easier for your body to register when it's full. Furthermore, it's easier to distinguish between true hunger and non-hunger triggers for eating. 

CREATIVE OUTLETS

For a lot of us, 2024 was a stressful year. We’re constantly hustling and not letting ourselves process what's happening in and around us. Having a creative outlet helps us to release and detach from those emotions. It allows us to experience that feeling, but leave it all behind in the end. 

Some examples are painting, clay artwork, creative writing, designing, sewing, crocheting and music. There’s a lot more you could do, but ultimately you have to do what's best for yourself. 

LEARNING SOMETHING NEW EVERYDAY

At least one thing each day: aim to learn something completely new to you. Other than the fact that you are learning something new, it allows for your curiosity to grow and expand outside of your typical education institution. With curiosity, comes with the skill of being able to explore complications and come up with solutions. 

There are many ways you can learn, but I think the best way is by coming up with your questions in an area you’re unfamiliar with and then looking for an answer to your question. 

My favourite way has to be watching video essays. Doesn’t always have to be social commentary, but anything that seems interesting enough for me. 

COMPLIEMENT-A-DAY

I love receiving compliments from strangers. It leaves the widest smile on my face and I swear I feel so much lighter like I’m floating around. However, I never think to give a compliment to someone else who I don’t know. So, whenever you see the cutest outfit or the perfect lip combo, make sure to say it!

For those who may be shy in those kinds of interactions, practice saying it in your head. You don’t have to say it out loud to them, but thinking positively of other people will reflect on how you think about yourself. 

That is it for this post, thank you for reading until the end ♥︎ Until next time, take care of yourself ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹

[thebeast-dennis-etcetera]

Boo

Prompt: You end up taking Jack and your daughter trick or treating while Aaron is stuck at work.

Note: I know this Halloween inspired prompt is a little belated but the amount of fluff is worth it. 🥰

“I want that one!” your daughter yelled, grabbing the bigger candy bucket from Jack’s hands. A frown appeared on his face but he seemingly held himself back from acting out. The little 8 year old had way more patience than you did at his age, clearly taking after Aaron’s constant calm and controlled demeanor.

“Hey,” you spoke, crouching down to her level. “Jackers is your brother and you need to be nice to him. We don’t yell and take things away from each other.” She looked back and forth from him to you, an expression of disapproval evident. “Why don’t you try asking him nicely if you can have the bigger bucket, ok?”

You and Jack waited as she stayed silent, clearly struggling with the idea to be polite. Finally, she turned to Jack and spoke. “Can I have Jack?”

He looked over at you and then to the smaller identical bucket by her feet. “Yeah, ok.”

You sighed in relief and gave them both a big smile. For a second, you thought there was gonna be a tantrum happening before you even got a chance to trick or treat but luckily Jack came to your rescue, being the bigger man.

“See, wasn’t that nicer than yelling at Jack?” She just nodded, avoiding eye contact, probably embarrassed that she was in the wrong. “Ok, now let’s go get some candy!”

Like a switch, they were both back to being happy and excited as they ran to the door. You grabbed both of their jackets that you knew they were gonna want later on as well as your little tumbler of wine. That was your treat for the night.

Before leaving the house, you came over to Jack and plopped a king sized Snickers bar in his bucket, giving him a wink and smile once he noticed. He pretended to zip his lips shut and throw away the key, making you laugh.

The first couple of house went smoothly, your daughter clutching onto Jack most of the time, not convinced with the suspicious looking decorations outside of some of the houses. You sent a picture of the two of them to Aaron, knowing he’d want to see how they were doing even if he couldn’t be there.

Aaron: They look adorable. How far have you gotten?

You: Still on our street, but making great headway. Jack is excited to get to Wicker street where he knows they give out the bigger candy.

Aaron: Smart boy. I see he let his sister have the bigger bucket.

You: Yeah, he handled it very well. Reminded me a lot of his father. (;

Aaron: Love to hear that. Gotta go but I love you.

You: Love you too.

You put your phone away just as you heard your daughter scream and watch as she made a beeline for you, leaving Jack in the dust. "Sweetheart, what's the matter?" you asked bending down. She looked absolutely terrified as tears began streaming down her face and the little tiara on her head struggled to stay attached. Instead of answering, she just pointed over to the porch that she had just ran from. You knew then what she was referring to when you saw the dog dressed as a big spider. It took everything in you not to laugh out loud.

"Oh honey, it's a just a doggy. He's dressed up for Halloween just like you." You brushed the hair out of her eyes while she continued crying, completely unconvinced that the dog was not a gigantic spider there to eat her and waited as Jack came back over. He inspected the scene before him, obviously aware of what happened and proceeded to pull a pack of gummy worms out from his bucket of goodies.

"Here. I got you worms," he offered, forcing the candy into her hand. Just like that, the crying stopped immediately as she played with the package, trying to figure out how to open it.

"That was so nice of your brother. Can you say thank you sweetie?"

"Thank you," she repeated. You gave Jack a ruffle on his head and pulled him in for a hug. He was literally the sweetest boy you knew.

"Alright, Jack. You want to lead the way to the next street?" He shook his head in excitement and wasted no time in showing you the way.

After walking up to the first house and receiving two big chocolate bars, he was practically racing to the next house for more.

"Not so fast Jack, stay close." you told him, scanning your surroundings, knowing anything could happen. Your daughter followed in step with you, busy gnawing on some gummy candy that you were sure was gonna end up keeping her up all night. Just before you all reached the next house, someone caught your eye. The tall figure was a bit far away but became increasingly clearer, the closer you got. Jack was the first to identify him.

"Daddy!"

You watched him run ahead and into the arms of your husband, who was still dressed in his work attire. In that moment, you were entirely grateful to the Bureau for their strict dress code. The dress pants, FBI windbreaker, and holstered weapon had you thinking all kinds of dirty scenarios in your head you'd like to play out with him but for the sake of your toddler children, you decided to indulge your fantasies later.

You and your daughter walked over, a gentle smile on your lips as he set Jack down to give her a hug. "Well this is a pleasant surprise." you greeted, giving him a kiss once he came back up.

“Case wrapped up sooner than expected. Figured the team could use an early night considering the occasion."

You pulled him in for another kiss, this time, a slightly longer and deeper, earning a curious hum from him. "What was that for?"

Absentmindedly, you played with his tie and looked up at his boyish expression. "I just really like your Halloween costume."

Being the ever observant special agent he was, it didn't take long for him to understand what you meant as a knowing smirk played on his lips. "I see."

"Daddy, up," your daughter demanded while pulling on his pant leg, interrupting the moment.

“Of course sweetheart.” He propped her up on his hip and gave you one last look before turning his attention to them. “Lead the way Batman,” Aaron spoke to Jack in his costume.

All of you followed after the young boy, it not taking long for both of their candy buckets to fill up and their sugar high to come crashing down. Your daughter had fallen asleep in Aaron’s arms on the walk back and Jack walked hand in hand with you, his pace a lot slower than earlier.

Once in the house, you helped Jack separate his candy while Aaron put your daughter down for bed. "The Twix are my favorite. Dad can have the pretzels and you can have the lollipops," he offered, pushing the less interesting candy towards you.

“Alright. I’ll keep all of your candy in a very secure safe place,” you reassured him, putting his little pile into a ziplock bag. “Why don’t you go get changed into your pj’s and brush your teeth.”

He listened without a fuss, a tired yawn making its way out of his mouth as he shuffled down the hall, passing by his dad who gave him a high five.

You watched him make his way over to you, a playful glint in his eye, his arms snaking their way around your waist before he placed a gentle kiss against your neck. "I thought I could run us a bath. Maybe give you a massage afterwards." His murmured words sent a shiver through you, your body reacting immediately. You turned to face him, your hands slowly pulling down on his jacket zipper, your eyes locked with his.

Leaning in, his lips met yours with a burning passion you loved. Like that was the last kiss he'd ever have. His hand cradled your head, fingers entwining in your hair and as he stepped closer, the faint smell of cologne from that morning still lingered on his clothes, overstimulating your senses. Your hands rested themselves on his torso, grabbing at the fabric, wanting nothing more than to rip it right off his body as his breath hitched, telling you he felt the same way.

"Daddy!" Jack called from down the hall, bringing the both of you back down to earth. He was probably waiting for his nightly bedtime story you made sure to give him, all cuddled up in his bed, surrounded by his numerous stuffies and dressed in his Batman pajamas.

You pulled away from Aaron, his eyes dark and filled with desire.

"Wait for me," he spoke lowly, stepping back from you before heading towards Jack's room, ready to give the shortest bedtime story ever.