#but not really because i just found a year’s worth of text messages with my ex best friend

[lottiies]

went on amino for the first time in years i’m sick to my stomach LMAOAO

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

A Surprise Visitor

Word count: 2.1k

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader

Summary: After two years of watching from afar, Y/n surprises her boyfriend, Lando Norris, at the Monza Grand Prix, creating a buzz in the paddock and revealing their private relationship.

Requests are open

______________________________________________________________

The hum of the jet engines thrummed through the cabin, but I was too excited to care. This was finally happening. After two years of watching Lando's races from my cramped little apartment, I was on my way to my first Grand Prix. It had taken a miracle—or more precisely, a break in my grueling medical school schedule—to make it happen, and now I was on a plane bound for Monza. Lando had no idea I was coming.

For two years, we had been each other's biggest supporters, but always from afar. With my studies and his relentless racing schedule, we made it work through late-night FaceTime calls, stolen weekends, and text messages sent across different time zones. Lando understood how much becoming a doctor meant to me, and I understood how much racing meant to him. It wasn't always easy, but it was worth it. And now, finally, I was going to surprise him at one of the biggest races of the season.

The plan was simple: get to Monza, navigate through the labyrinth of the paddock area, and find Lando. But of course, it wasn't going to be that easy. After all, Lando had kept our relationship very private—mostly because of my request. I had wanted to avoid any extra scrutiny or attention that could interfere with my studies. So, not many people knew who I was. That anonymity had always been a blessing, but today, it might turn into a curse.

As I approached the entrance to the paddock, the reality of the situation hit me. The security was tight, and without a pass, there was no easy way in. I tried to remain calm and confident as I approached the guard at the gate, a stern-looking man. I put on my most winning smile.

"Hi, I’m here for Lando Norris. I'm his girlfriend," I said, hoping my nerves didn’t show in my voice.

The guard didn’t even flinch. He glanced at me. “Do you have a pass, ma’am?”

“Uh, no, I don’t. I’m surprising him. He doesn’t know I’m here.”

He raised an eyebrow. “If you don’t have a pass, I can’t let you in. Anyone could say they're someone’s girlfriend.”

I felt my face flush. Of course, he was right. I had counted on my story being enough, but without any proof, I was just another face in the crowd. My mind raced, trying to think of something, anything, that would convince him. I pulled out my phone, scrolling frantically through my photos to find one of Lando and me that wasn’t overly intimate but still proved I knew him. Finally, I found one from his last birthday—a picture of us at a quiet dinner, his arm wrapped around my shoulder, both of us smiling like idiots.

“Look, this is us,” I said, holding the phone up to the guard.

He squinted at it, but it still didn’t seem to sway him. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but without clearance, I can’t let you in.”

I bit my lip, starting to panic. Would I really come all this way just to be turned away at the gate? Just then, I heard a familiar voice from behind the guard.

“Hey, is there a problem here?”

It was Charlotte, one of Lando’s closest friends who often accompanied him to races. Relief washed over me. She knew who I was, thank goodness. The guard turned to her, explaining the situation, and Charlotte’s eyes lit up when she saw me.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe you’re here!” she exclaimed, pulling me into a quick hug. “She’s with Lando. She’s legit,” she assured the guard, who seemed to visibly relax.

“Alright, you’re good to go,” he said, opening the gate for me. I breathed out a sigh of relief, thanking Charlotte profusely.

“Lando’s going to flip when he sees you,”

Charlotte led me through the bustling paddock, weaving between crew members, engineers, and the odd driver. My heart pounded with every step. I couldn’t believe I was finally here, in the thick of it, about to see Lando. I’d spent so many weekends watching him on TV, wishing I could be there to support him in person. Now, I was just moments away from making that a reality.

As we rounded a corner, I saw the familiar McLaren colors and a group of people crowded around, busy with last-minute preparations. And there he was, standing near his car, deep in conversation with his race engineer. I paused, taking him in. Lando looked focused, his brow furrowed as he listened intently. He was in his element, and seeing him like this—so determined, so alive—made my heart swell with pride.

Charlotte gave me a nudge and a wink. “Go on.”

Taking a deep breath, I walked toward him, trying to keep my emotions in check. With each step, my excitement grew, and I couldn't help but smile. When I was just a few feet away, Lando turned around, still half-listening to his engineer. His eyes skimmed over me at first, not really registering who I was, but then they widened. His mouth fell open in shock.

“Y/N?” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “What… what are you doing here?”

The smile on my face grew wider. “Surprise!”

For a moment, he just stood there, frozen, as if he couldn’t believe his eyes. Then, in a heartbeat, his face broke into the biggest grin I’d ever seen. He closed the distance between us in two strides, wrapping me in a tight hug and lifting me off the ground. I laughed, burying my face in his shoulder, his familiar scent wrapping around me like a comforting blanket.

“I can’t believe this,” he said, his voice muffled against my hair. He set me down gently but kept his arms around me as if afraid I might disappear if he let go. “You’re really here?”

“Yeah, I am,” I said, my own eyes brimming with happy tears. “I finally managed to get a break from school. I wanted to surprise you.”

“You did more than surprise me,” he said, pulling back to look at me. His eyes were bright with joy, his cheeks flushed with excitement. “You have no idea how much this means to me.”

I felt a warmth spread through my chest, seeing just how much my presence meant to him. “I’m so proud of you, Lando. I’ve been watching every race from my apartment, but I’m finally here to cheer you on in person.”

His face softened, and for a moment, it was just the two of us, standing in the middle of the chaotic paddock, wrapped up in our little world. “I’ve missed you so much,” he said softly, his thumb brushing against my cheek. “I wish you could be here all the time.”

“I wish I could too,” I replied. “But I’m here now. And I’m not going anywhere.”

He chuckled, the sound warm and full of relief. “I have to admit, this is the best surprise ever. But how did you even get in? Did anyone recognize you?”

“Not exactly,” I laughed. “It was a bit of a challenge. Charlotte saved the day.”

He glanced over my shoulder and waved a grateful hand at Charlotte, who gave him a thumbs-up and a knowing smile. “Remind me to thank her later,” he said with a grin before turning his attention back to me. “But seriously, Y/N, you being here… it just makes everything better.”

I felt my heart flutter at his words. “Well, I’m glad I could make your day a little brighter. Now, you better go out there and win, okay? I didn’t come all this way for nothing.”

Lando’s grin widened, and he nodded with determination. “With you here, I feel like I can do anything.”

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead, and I felt a rush of warmth spread from the top of my head to the tips of my toes. “Stay close, alright? After the race, we’re celebrating. Just you and me.”

“Deal,” I said, squeezing his hand. “Now go be amazing.”

Lando jogged back to his team, but not before throwing a final, beaming smile my way. My heart swelled seeing how happy he was. I lingered by the McLaren garage, watching him fall back into his pre-race routine. As I waited, Charlotte stayed with me, giving me a quick rundown of the paddock scene. The energy was buzzing, filled with engineers shouting, journalists hunting for stories, and drivers moving from garage to garage.

As Lando chatted with his team, I noticed a few heads turning in my direction, whispers circulating among the crew. It wasn’t long before Daniel Ricciardo, Lando’s former teammate, appeared with his trademark grin, clearly having caught wind of the new face in the paddock.

“Oi, Norris!” Daniel called out, his voice cutting through the noise. “You’ve been holding out on us, mate! Who’s this lovely lady?”

Lando looked up, a sheepish yet proud grin spreading across his face. He glanced at me, then back at Daniel. “This is Y/N, my girlfriend. She’s finally here to see me race.”

I felt my cheeks flush as all eyes turned toward me. Daniel's grin widened, his playful nature kicking in immediately. “Girlfriend, huh? And you kept her hidden all this time? Smart move, mate.”

He walked over, extending a hand to me. “Daniel, nice to meet you. I’ve gotta say, we all wondered if Lando had someone special cheering him on from the shadows. Now I see why he’s been driving so fast. Gotta impress the missus, eh?”

I laughed, shaking his hand. “Nice to meet you too, Daniel. And yeah, I’ve been watching all the races from home. I’m finally getting a front-row seat.”

Before I knew it, more drivers began to gather around, curious to meet Lando’s mystery girl. George Russell approached with a friendly smile. “So, you’re the one who’s been keeping Norris in line? Good job,” he said, giving Lando a teasing nudge. “Didn’t know you had it in you, mate.”

Lando rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide his smile. “Oh, shut up. Just because you guys didn’t know doesn’t mean I was keeping secrets.”

Charles Leclerc joined the group, his charming smile lighting up his face. “Y/N, right? I’m Charles. It’s nice to meet you. I have to say, Lando’s been very quiet about you, but now I see why. He was trying to keep you away from us.”

“Not a bad idea,” Lando chimed in, trying to sound casual, but I could sense a slight edge to his tone. “You lot can be a bit much sometimes.”

Charles chuckled, clearly enjoying the opportunity to tease Lando. “Come on, we’re not that bad! Besides, now that she’s here, we can all get to know her better.”

As the group chatted, I could feel Lando's arm subtly wrap around my waist, a gentle but possessive gesture. I couldn’t help but smile to myself; he was clearly proud to show me off but also keen to make sure everyone knew I was his.

Max Verstappen wandered over next, always one to enjoy a bit of friendly banter. “Lando, man, you’ve been hiding her from us because you knew we’d try to steal her away, huh?” he said with a playful smirk.

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Lando shot back, his tone light but his grip on my waist tightening ever so slightly.

As we continued to chat, I noticed Carlos Sainz giving me a slightly lingering look. He flashed me a charming smile. “You know, if you ever get tired of this guy, you could always come cheer for Ferrari,” he joked, winking.

I laughed, enjoying the light-hearted teasing, but I felt Lando tense beside me. He tried to play it off with a chuckle, but I could tell the idea of me getting attention from his friends—even if it was in jest—was stirring a little jealousy.

“Alright, alright,” Lando cut in, his voice a mix of amusement and a hint of possessiveness. “I see what you’re all trying to do, and it’s not going to work. Y/N is here with me, and that’s how it’s staying.”

Daniel, always quick to pick up on vibes, grinned broadly. “Look at him getting all protective! I think we’ve found Lando’s kryptonite, boys.”

Lando rolled his eyes, but his cheeks turned a slight shade of pink. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. At least I have someone to protect,” he shot back, which earned a chorus of “ooohs” from the group.

I squeezed his hand reassuringly, leaning in close to whisper, “You know they’re just messing with you, right?”

He nodded, his expression softening as he looked at me. “Yeah, I know. But I still don’t like the idea of anyone hitting on you—even as a joke.”

I smiled, feeling a warmth spread through me at his protectiveness. “Well, you don’t have to worry. I’m exactly where I want to be.”

[slut4sugu]

𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐃 𝐇𝐂𝐒 (𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.)

a/n: im back my loves! I’ve been rewatching criminal minds and omg I love how soft Spencer is he’s just adorable bro. Also JJ with bangs? (She can get it too honestly) Mentions; of sub!spencer, dry humping, cunnilingus, sweet but nasty Spence <33

isn’t the best with explaining his feelings for you not in a nerdy way but is a poet when it comes to words of affirmation; ever time Spencer sees you look so beautiful, so ethereal he just randomly pouts out a poem that can barely come close to describe the amount of love he has for you in that moment <33

I’m a strong believer in the fact that Reid has a little decor around his apartment for when Halloween rolls around; and is beyond happy when he comes home from a case to find that you’ve went a the extra mile and decorating it a bit more for him <33

Memorizes your cafe orders; so on his off days he’ll wake up before you to surprise you with a muffin and your favorite tea/coffee

is usually the big spoon in bed; however if he’s had a challenging week he’ll just silently curl into your side pressing kisses to you neck as he murmurs a “thank you love.”

whines into kisses & grinds his hips into yours while doing so; Spence is weak for you that much is certain. Your voice is as smooth as silk and your touch never fails to ignite a fire on his skin. But your kisses are pure aphrodisiac, you effortlessly pull moans from him like it’s nothing. “You’re so cute Spence, so you want me to touch you?” “Please angel.”

cannot leave without his goodbye kiss and an I love you; one time you decided to mess with him and kiss him goodbye without saying I love you. After not hearing you say it back he poked his head back in your shared bedroom and loooked at you confused. “I love you?” “Mhm, have a good day sweetheart.” Now he’s pouting, “..did I do something wrong?” Now you have to pepper his face with kisses and tell him you love him multiple times so he can leave.

whenever he’s gone for a couple days for a particular hard case he’ll send you flowers, and sends you text messages; to check the new book you’ve read. Which leads you to find a sweet love letter. Promising his safe return and that he’ll make up for lost time <33

loves baking and cooking with you; know we all know Spencer can’t cook worth a damn, so his job in the kitchen is maintaining the mess you tend to create while making brownies and ofc pressing kisses to your shoulder as you mix the batter

eats you out slowly when he’s sleepy but horny; it’s so hot but so agonizingly slow. Even the way his tongue flicks against your clit feels slow, once he hears your begs and whines he’ll speed up a bit. Slowly starting to get more into it than you are, pulling you by your thighs to get close to his tongue. Lapping up your cunt is an art form to Spence, and all art deserves to be appreciated <33

tells Garcia and Morgan about you; he intends not to rant but once he pictures your sweet smile in his head he’s a goner. Now he talking about your mannerisms and how you always cover your smile with your hand because your self conicous about it, but he finds your smile so beautiful..

when he gets jealous he pouts slightly; he manages it relatively well but the initial time a guy looks at you too long or has that look on his face, Spence does that little confused pouty thing slightly before making it clear your happily taken.

Spence is HELLA touchy; cannot go 2 minutes without touching you. In the car? Hand on your thigh, sitting on the couch together? Your thighs gotta be on his lap. One way or the other

Happily spends his money on you; spence absolutely loves spoiling you, and every anniversary he makes a habit of buying you a dress. Not overly pricey but just enough in the 200-300 range. each anniversary he goes a little bit higher and higher or if you found a dress you really like hell buy you jewelry. But once you guys hit one year? He goes all out <33

uses your lotions and shampoo on occasion; being away from you for hours on end can be tough at some times so Spencer makes a habit of buying smaller samples of your vanilla or strawberry scented products. Smell of sweet candy and cookies like helps ease his mind when he’s away at work.

Honorable mentions

princess twirl/hugs when he comes back from a long case

loves going on library dates with you

says I love you every time before doing down on you <33

[monstersandmaw]

Male 'yautja' x female reader - alien 'reverse harem' - Chapter Two

Due to Patrons' enthusiasm over on Discord and your comments on the previous chapter (thank you!), here's the second chapter! As I said on Discord, this is gonna be a mix of reader POV and 'hunter'/yautja POV. I'm not giving away our friend's name in this one, but future 'hunter' chapters will have their names in. The next chapter is reader POV again, and we meet the rest of the crew.

Also there's this:

(text is a screenshot of a Discord message: Ghosti: It’s basically just an excuse for the reader to boink different aliens (sometimes more than one at once) but I’m really enjoying writing it so far.)

So yeah, this is just a fast track to 'how many aliens can the reader boink?'

Content in this chapter: young (but still adult) horny alien POV, self-deprecating attitude and self-worth issues, non-human anatomy referenced ('slick, sheath'), and his quite severely injured state continues...

Wordcount: 2690

<- previous chapter (free for anyone to read on Patreon)

Preview:

I wake slowly and painfully, blinking up at the ceiling of my ship and wondering how I came to be there, when the last thing I really remember was scrapping with the Enemy.

A series of rattling clicks rises in my throat and my mandibles twitch in indignation. Surely one of the others hasn't come to help me? It was my First Hunt, and they were honour-bound to let me make my first kill, or let me die trying! I had actually thought I was going to die when the Enemy’s tail spike punched through my gut like that. And my shoulder.

Actually, now that I think of it, I’m surprised that I’m alive enough to be surprised at all.

Fuck. Ouch.

Oh, fuck, my guts hurt.

Nothing in training ever hurt like this. It does hurt less than it did when it first happened though, and all because…

…because the human helped me.

Fuck.

Did this even count as a successful First Hunt if… No. I killed it. I ripped its damned head right off. I feel a growl rumble up from my chest and my mandibles flare. Nasty fucker. The growling makes my stomach hurt though, so I force it to stop.

Where is the human now?

Carefully, I sit up and discover that the healing gel has closed off the wounds and kick-started the healing process. My flesh beneath the hardened patches of gel feels itchy where my body is already knitting itself back together, and it’s so tender, but at least it’s healing. I’ve always hated feeling weak and small. Ever since I was a pup and I was made to feel less than worthy because of my runty size. Well fuck everyone who said I’d never make a Blooded Warrior. I’ve found my squad now and we hunt together. And now I’ve completed my First Hunt and killed an Enemy by myself. Even Stark tolerates me, though I can tell he still thought I wouldn't survive this hunt.

Well, I did it, so fuck him. Actually, if I know Stark, it’ll be the big guy getting fucked, not Stark himself. He’s the only one of us who never takes it. Whenever he fucks me, I always end up walking funny afterwards. Bastard. Gods, it always feels so good though…

Despite my injuries, my cock twitches deep in its sheath at the memory of getting pounded by Stark only a few days ago, and I groan. Now’s really not the time to think about being fucked. Alchemist is only a few years older than me, but no one else on our squad seems to have as high a sex drive as I do, damn it. The Old Man says it’s natural and healthy – desired even – in one my age, but I can’t help feeling a bit embarrassed that it takes quite so little to set me off. It’s not like I’m a randy adolescent in the communal barracks anymore. Gods, that was… inconvenient.

Fuck.

All the same, I’m halfway to slicking myself already at the mere memory of Stark’s aggressive snarls and the way his claws had actually punctured the skin at my hips while he drove his cock repeatedly into my dripping wet slit…

Fuck fuck fuck. Not now, you moron.

With another chittering sigh, I ignore the way my sheath is throbbing, and swing my legs off the bed before I leave a mess on the sheets. When my clawed paws hit the cold ceramic floor, I have a go at standing up. It takes me two goes, but I get myself upright eventually, and then I cast about for my helmet.

Read the whole thing right now on Patreon and get access to the 9k word monthly story, featuring a huge Shire centaur who tows the reader's truck for them when they break down...

[fubblers]

[Transcript in Alt Text]

Sharing this quick NYT article because I think a lot of people struggle to find community these days. Not all of us have a third space which means you have to do the labor of finding or creating a third space.

I saw a post recently that talked about how Small Talk may be boring and shallow, but it’s a step toward Big Talk. I use small talk as a way to signal to people “hi I’m friendly and I want to get to know you better!”

Just as this article indicates, there are places where you can practice small talk.

Additionally, there’s probably spaces around you that you didn’t know about if you live in a city. I know small towns aren’t always going to have a wealth of queer leftist spaces, but it’s worth looking around.

Instagram sucks but it’s the way like 90% of 15-35 year olds seem to network with each other nowadays. I made an Instagram out of necessity because it’s how I got plugged into a bunch of communities. A lot of cool community events only advertise on Instagram and literally no where else. There might be a club for your special interest 20 minutes away from you that you would never know about because no one has a dang website anymore.

There’s also always the good old library! I joined a zine club at one of my local libraries and it’s been really refreshing. It’s mostly kids that attend but I’ve brought some adult friends along and I’m really getting to know the librarian that runs it. In fact, the zinester that runs it connected with me on Instagram and I found out we have a lot of political beliefs in common and I expect to become friends!

This is the part where I advertise zines as well. Once you start joining these groups you should make zines lol. Look up how to make a one page mini zine and put stuff in it that your circle would be interested. If it’s a model train club, write about the history of model trains and pass it out to your buds! If it’s a public speaking class, summarize some of the tips you’ve learned and pass it out as a sort of cheat sheet to the other students! You can hand write it and just copy it at the library!

Then you literally just put your social media handle, email, phone number, whatever, on the back! People can start connecting with you! Then after your class or club is over you might get a message like “hey let’s grab coffee!”

I’m not kidding at all! Go to your local game stores yugioh tournament and pass out your mini booklet about yugioh strategies!!

It gives people a great starting point to talk to you. And you might have people walk over and say “hey are you passing those out? Can I have one? I’m [name] by the way.” And congrats you’ve started step one of making a friend.

[justagalwhowrites]

New in Town - Ch. 4: First Cookout

Sarah invites you to Joel's place to celebrate the last night she's in town. A continuation of New in Town chapters 1-3 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Best Friend's Dad!Joel Miller x Female Reader

CW: Smut. Because obviously smut. It's these two, they fuck. No use of Y/N. Age gap (reader is 35 Joel is 47, not a focus of the fic). Minors DNI, 18+ only

Length: 5.8k

AO3 | First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

“And this is going to be your desk,” you smiled, excited but keeping your voice down. Sarah made a quiet squeal back at you. “See, I can see you from my desk so you can make faces at me while I’m dealing with the boring accounts people. I’m manifesting it, I swear I am.” 

“I’m seriously about to make a fucking moodboard if it’ll help,” she sat on the desk, her legs dangling over the edge. “I miss Austin. I didn’t think I’d miss it this much but I really do. Seattle was way more fun when you were there, now all I do is try to convince myself that my job is totally worth the 500 days of rain we get every year.”

You laughed.

“Something tells me it’s not quite that many.” 

“Feels like that many,” she rolled her eyes. “Now please. I need BBQ.” 

You shook your head and laughed before heading to the elevators to go to lunch with your best friend. 

Joel had texted you a warning with his usual good morning text that day. 

“Good morning, Beautiful,” he wrote. “Really miss feeling you right before I fall asleep. Please tell me you’re not busy tomorrow night. Heads up, expect Sarah to drop in on you today. I have to be at a site for a few hours and she mentioned stopping by your office. She’ll probably invite you to the cookout we’re having tonight - up to you if you want to come.” 

You frowned when you read it. “Up to you if you want to come.” What the fuck did that mean? 

“Miss feeling you too,” you added a heart emoji. “Only plans I have for tomorrow night involve you ripping my clothes off.” 

You rapped your nails against your phone, waiting to see if he’d text back before you started getting ready for the day but he didn’t. You sighed. He probably had to be on site early and couldn’t use his phone. 

“Goddammit,” you muttered, putting your face in your pillow and groaning. How were you supposed to navigate this? 

Did Joel want you to come but was trying to keep the pressure off? Did he not want you anywhere near him when Sarah was in town? 

Yes, he’d spent a fair bit of time fucking your brains out over the past few weeks but, in reality, he wasn’t anything to you. He was a guy you’d gone out with once, he wasn’t your boyfriend, he didn’t have to invite you over for anything let alone something that might make him feel uncomfortable because you were friends with his kid. Even though, to you, he felt like so much more than some guy you were fucking. So, so much more. 

And also your best friend’s dad. 

Because fate was a cruel, cruel thing. 

You checked your phone every few minutes as you got ready for work but the messages sat on delivered. You sighed and resisted the urge to text again and just kept checking your phone every few minutes in your office, too. 

“Wouldn’t argue with some help in the clothing removal department,” he wrote. “I’m going to want you naked fast. Requesting something with easy access so I can get inside you ASAP.” 

You smiled and shook your head a little. 

“Still warm enough for a sundress,” you sent a winky face emoji with that and briefly considered going to the bathroom to take a selfie that involved an unprofessional amount of cleavage. 

“Jesus Christ,” he sent back. “Pull me in a restroom wearing one of those and we’re not stopping at you humping my leg.” 

“Counting on it,” you wrote, smiling a little wider before deciding to just bite the bullet. “Did you want me to go tonight? If Sarah asks?” 

“What’s go you smiling so big?” 

You almost jumped out of your skin when you saw Sarah leaning against the doorframe to your office. 

“Good lord, girl, we gotta put a bell on you,” you smiled anyway, being sure to lock your phone before getting up to hug her. “What are you doing here?” 

“My dad had some client issue so I figure I’d come visit my bestie,” she gave you a squeeze before stepping back from you. “Plus I’m dying to see where I’m going to commute to every day once they finally let me come here.” 

Sarah picked the restaurant, a BBQ place that wasn’t far from your office and only offered wooden picnic tables sitting under a rusted metal awning for seating. 

“Oh this is going to be good shit,” you said, taking a deep breath, the smell of smoked meat heavy on the air. “I can tell.” 

“Knew you’d love this place,” she smiled. “Kind of surprised my dad hasn’t taken you here already, actually.” 

You froze for half a second before regaining your composure. 

“We’ve only gone out the one time since the first time we met up,” you shrugged. “Can’t exactly show me the entire city in that time.” 

The two of you got in line, the place starting to get crowded now that it was pushing noon. 

“I know,” she rolled her eyes. “I just really thought you guys would hit it off I guess.” 

Well you’d definitely done that. 

“Does it really bother you that I’m not hitting the town with your dad more?” You asked, teasing. 

“Kind of, actually,” she laughed. “You know those stupid TV episodes they do where the cast of one show goes on another show?” 

“The crossover ones?” You frowned.” 

“Right,” she nodded. The line moved and the two of you stepped forward. “This was like… my real life crossover episode and it just kinda flopped. Like my two favorite characters finally were in the same place and just didn’t have the chemistry for good TV.” 

Yeah, chemistry? Not your issue with Joel. 

“I’ll be sure to lodge your complaint with the writers,” you said dryly. “Tell them to get their shit together.” 

You talked Sarah into ordering the meats you didn’t so you could try at least a bite of everything and you were almost uncomfortably full when you dropped your final wet napkin on the butcher paper covered tray in front of you. 

“Oh, hey, meant to ask you before,” she said, polishing off her Dr. Pepper. “Did you have any plans tonight? My dad caved and is grilling out. My Uncle Tommy is coming over, his wife Maria, a few neighbors who have known me since I was in diapers and who can tell you every embarrassing thing I’ve ever done…” 

“I don’t think they can tell me about the time you got drunk at karaoke night and tried to take the mic from that guy who was making an ass of himself,” you smirked. 

Sarah groaned, throwing her head back and laughing.

“Oh my God, I forgot about that!”

You laughed, too, and took a second to check your phone to see if Joel had gotten back to you. 

He had. 

“Love for you to come,” he wrote. “Just going to be hell keeping my hands to myself all night. But would rather do that than not see you.” 

You smiled a little and put your phone down. 

“Yeah, I’ll come,” you said. “Just tell me what I can bring.” 

You were almost giddy by the time you got home. It’s not like you’d seen Joel every day since you’d met him but the option always felt like it was there. You’d only texted a bit since the phone sex Sunday and it felt like it had been eons since you’d gotten to touch him. You wondered if it would be weird if you gave him a hug when Sarah was there. You could get away with a hug, right? 

You pulled out a few outfit options, trying to find something that would make Joel want to check you out but not look like you were trying to get him to check you out. You pulled the shirts out and hung them on your floor length mirror so they were next to each other when you got an idea. 

You stripped out of your work clothes and changed into your favorite matching bra and panty set, standing in front of the mirror with the shirts still hanging on it, arranging yourself so you could see your body between the clothes. You took a picture. 

“Which shirt for tonight?” You typed, sending the picture to Joel. 

He responded while you were jumping into your jeans, the denim tight on your thighs and hips. 

“You’re cruel, you know that right?” He wrote. “I vote green. Feel like you’ll cause less trouble in the green.” 

The green was a little tamer, you supposed. The v-neck wasn’t quite as low, the eyelet lace softer and almost girlish. You smiled a little. 

“You’re right,” you wrote back. “Black it is.” 

Black was a wrap top, with a deeper v-neck, something that would highlight your curves even more. And give Joel easy access.

“You’re a menace,” he texted. 

“I know :)” 

You got dressed and stopped by HEB on your way over, picking up a dozen bottles of Shiner. You’d had to consciously toe the line of trying without trying too hard and you stomach was in knots as you walked up to his front door. What if your hair or your makeup or your shoes or the tightness of your jeans screamed “I’m fucking the man who lives in this house”? 

But you took a deep breath and rang the doorbell anyway. It didn’t take long for it Sarah to rip it open with a squeal, pulling you inside. 

“I’m so glad you came!” She said, jumping a little as she pulled away from you. “This is going to be so much fun, I promise. See, we’re going to do shit like this all the time when I move down here. We gotta manifest it, girl, I’m telling you. It’s even more fun when it’s summer and people want to swim because getting drunk in a pool that’s not open to every other idiot in your apartment complex is seriously the best pass time.” 

“I can only imagine,” you smiled. “And, I brought beer!” 

You held up the six packs just as Joel went rushing past, on his way to the kitchen. But he doubled back and stopped, a slow smile spreading across his face as he looked you up and down from over Sarah’s shoulder. You smirked just a little and he shook his head slightly, smiling. 

“Good to see you,” he said, stepping around Sarah for a somewhat awkward hug. He lowered his voice, his lips next to your ear, speaking so softly you could barely hear him. “Menace.” 

He stepped back and you smiled wider. 

“Good to see you, too.” 

Joel took the beers from your hands and his eyes lingered a little too long on your chest - not that you were arguing. 

“Come on,” Sarah slipped her hand into yours. “I want you to meet everybody!” 

She tugged you along behind her to the backyard, you giving Joel an apologetic smirk over your shoulder, people standing in little clusters around the pool. You spotted Joel’s brother immediately, the resemblance hard to miss. He was standing next to a beautiful woman with braids half way down her back, his arm around her waist. You smiled a little. You remembered dropping Sarah off at the airport when she flew down the year before for her uncle’s wedding. 

“Have fun!” You said, putting her duffle bag on her shoulder as your car sat with the emergency flashers on in the loading zone. 

“Yeah, this is going to be a disaster,” she said. “There’s no way they’re making it down the aisle. I haven’t met Maria but it’s Tommy. He’s jumped from woman to woman since before I was born, the day he settles down is the day hell freezes over.” 

When you picked her up again three days later, she had a different story. 

“So did they actually get hitched?” You asked as she flopped heavily into the passenger seat. 

“Holy shit, they did. She is the only woman on the planet who could actually get him to settle down,” she said. “And by some miracle, she wanted to. No accounting for taste with some people…” 

You laughed and headed to your favorite bar to hear all about it. You hadn’t really expected to ever really meet him except maybe in passing at Sarah’s wedding one day. Now you were meeting him in your - boyfriend’s? Fuck buddy’s? Who knows what’s? - backyard. 

“Tommy, Maria!” Sarah called as the two of you worked your way around the pool. “Got someone for you to meet, she’s new in town and in desperate need of social contacts.” 

She made the introductions and Tommy laughed when he heard your name. 

“The infamous best friend,” he smiled, pulling you in for a hug. “She as bad an influence on you as she was on me?” 

“Oh shut up,” she rolled her eyes. 

“She talked me into grand larceny once,” Tommy said, pointing accusingly at Sarah with the beer bottle in his hand. 

“Did she now?” You asked, brows raised. 

“Oh yes,” he nodded, smiling cheekily. “She was seven and Joel said she couldn’t have all her Halloween candy on Halloween…” 

“A crime, really,” she smiled, grabbing Tommy’s beer and taking a drink before giving it back. 

“And she was so cute, these big eyes and her little princess costume and her hair going in about a million different directions…” 

“Yeah, Dad hadn’t figured out how to handle that yet,” she laughed a little. 

“I caved,” Tommy said. “I put up a valiant fight…” 

“You said yes immediately!” Sarah scoffed. “I barely even had to pout…” 

“She was a monster,” Tommy cut her off. “I was at her mercy, I swear!” 

“And then what happened?” Joel asked, joining your little circle with two beers in hand. He wordlessly pressed one into your palm. You smiled a little at him and he brushed his hand down your spine on his way to putting it in his back pocket. “C’mon, you two partners in crime, finish that story. What happened?” 

“Nothing that bad,” Tommy waved him off. 

“Yeah, it was fine,” Sarah said. “No lasting damage…” 

“For you two maybe,” Joel laughed. “I was the one who was up until 3 in the morning washing all her bedding and scrubbin’ the wall of her room because she projectile vomited three pounds of candy like she was starring in the damn Exorcist.” 

You laughed as Sarah and Tommy both tried to downplay it and Maria just lovingly patted her husband’s shoulder, rolling her eyes. While everyone was distracted, you snuck a look at Joel. Just a second to actually look at his face as he laughed and smiled with his family. It was a little unfair, how good looking he was. Somehow both rugged and soft, handsome and beautiful and you had to resist the urge to reach up and twist your fingers in his slightly unruly curls. You looked back at Sarah before anyone said anything and took a sip of beer. 

Sarah got sidetracked talking with Tommy and you took advantage of it, leaning in to whisper in Joel’s ear. 

“You’re really hot,” you said quietly. “Also, I got you a present, it’s in my purse.” 

“Oh really?” He raised his eyebrows, a devious look on his face. 

You rolled your eyes. 

“Not that exciting,” you said. 

“What are you two conspiring about?” Maria asked and you almost flinched as Tommy and Sarah turned their attention to you. 

“Just how to get this one to stop meddlin’,” Joel said smoothly, nodding to his daughter. 

“I do not meddle,” she replied. “I just nudge people in the right direction. Because I’m smarter than them.” 

You got along well with Joel’s brother and sister-in-law. Tommy seemed more like a big brother to Sarah than an uncle, which made sense when they talked about her childhood years. Tommy was six years younger than Joel, just 16 when Sarah came into the world. So while he adored his niece, he wasn’t exactly mature enough to be a parent-like figure. It sounded like he’d helped his brother out a lot but had been more of a friend to Sarah than anything else. 

You liked watching her and Joel with their friends and family, the easy familiarity of it all, the comfort of having history with people. It was something that was missing from your life. 

Sure, you liked your life. You liked it quite a bit, actually. You had a job you enjoyed that paid you good money, you’d lived in some interesting places - Seattle, three years in New York City, an internship in Chicago, even Washington D.C. for a bit - and you could do just about whatever you wanted whenever you wanted. That was the beauty of not having anything to tie you down. The cost just meant not having roots and, sometimes, that hurt. 

Joel disappeared inside at one point and, after taking quick stock of the backyard to make sure no one else was inside with him, you followed. You slipped into the entry and grabbed your purse, pulling out the bag of Fire Sour Patch Kids you’d seen in the candy aisle on your way to grab beer when you stopped at the store earlier that day. 

Joel was in the kitchen cutting vegetables for burger toppings and you climbed on the counter next to the cutting board. He looked up at you out of the corner of his eye, trying to hide his smile while he shook his head. 

“Meant what I said about you bein’ a menace,” he said, his eyes on the knife. “You’re torture. Beautiful torture but torture.” 

“We aim to please,” you smiled, holding out the candy. He frowned for a second, drying his hands on his jeans, before he laughed and took the bag. “Warned you it wasn’t exciting…” 

“This is great, Beautiful,” he leaned in and kissed you lightly, like it was an automatic thing, as though you did this in his kitchen all the time. “Been wantin’ to try these and then I never buy the damn things….” 

“I’ll help you eat them if they suck,” you smiled. “And you can help me eat them if they don’t.” 

He smiled again and moved in front of you, nudging your legs apart so he was standing between your thighs  and he leaned in and kissed you - really kissed you. His tongue dipped into your mouth, his hands sliding up your legs to your waist as he tugged you closer. You draped your arms over his shoulders and pressed yourself against him and savored his touch. Fuck, you’d missed this. It had only been a few days but it felt like an eternity of him being out of reach and it was almost reassuring to feel the way his hands fit against your body even after some time apart. 

“Fuck, you’re trouble,” he was breathless when he pulled away from you, his hands still on your body. “Just couldn’t wear the green, could ya?” 

“And miss out on this?” You teased, running your fingers through his hair. “Never.” 

Sarah sat between the two of you at dinner, the best spot for you and Joel to be in when you thought about it. Next to you was too much temptation, you’d end up touching each other and then not be able to help yourselves and that was bad. 

Across wasn’t great, either, as you’d discovered at dinner the other night. If you could just check each other out the whole night, that wasn’t the safe way to go. Not to mention the opportunities for playing footsie under the table. 

No no, you needed a better way to keep your hands to yourselves and Sarah was a great barrier for that - both literally and metaphorically - and you managed to get through the meal without any big slip ups. Something you were pretty damn proud of, if you did say so yourself. 

You excused yourself to the bathroom as things were in that easy after dinner conversation stage of the evening, everyone pleasantly full and a little drunk, Sarah laughing with a neighbor from down the street whose name you’d forgotten. But when you opened the bathroom door to head back outside, Joel was there, pushing you back into the room and closing the door behind him. 

“Joel!” You hissed, his hands on your waist. 

“You really can’t expect me to wait when you show up lookin’ this damn good,” he growled, boosting you up so you were perched on the edge of the sink. “Everyone’s too busy to even notice we’re gone…” 

His mouth found your neck and your chest as he untied your top, his tongue and teeth ranging over your skin and you couldn’t help but moan at his attention, your body already feeling warm and wanting. Joel stepped back from you a he fully opened your shirt, revealing your body to him as though it were some wondrous thing, moaning as he did. 

“Fuck Beautiful,” his hands trailed up your exposed skin to cup your breasts through your bra. “Ain’t fair how one person can look this damn good…” 

“Had to pull you away from the grill somehow,” you smiled, tugging him back against you and kissing him. He kissed you back, getting more and more desperate as he did. He pulled your breasts free of their cups so he could suck at them and hold them in his large hands, moaning into you. Your hands ran down his body to find his cock hard in his jeans, feeling him through the fabric, desperately wishing you could just rip all his clothes off and get him inside you. 

“Think you can come from just your clit?” He asked, breathless, as he licked and sucked your neck. 

“Yes,” you moaned. “Think you can come from just my hand?” 

“It’d take less than that,” he panted as he opened your jeans and slid his hand inside as best he could, his finger finding your clit quickly. He ghosted over it with his finger, making you squirm and moan. “Fuck, Beautiful, you close already?” 

“Maybe,” you panted as he pressed a little harder against the sensitive nub. You reached down to pull out his cock to start jerking him off but he caught your hand. You whined a little. 

“Not yet,” he kissed back up to your mouth, holding his lips a fraction of an inch away from yours. “Lemme take care of you…” 

He kissed you then, his tongue slipping into you as his finger pressed into your clit. You groaned and rocked your hips on him and you felt him smile against your lips. He started rubbing you in slow, aching circles, adding a little pressure every time around, matching his kiss to the pace of his fingers. You moaned desperately against him and he picked up his pace, working you over until you were gasping into his mouth while you came from his fingers. 

“Fuck,” you panted as Joel slipped his hand from your pants. “How are you so goddamn good at that?” 

“You’re so pretty when you come it’s easy to remember what does it,” he replied, stepping back from you. You slid off the sink but, instead of fixing your bra and closing your shirt, you dropped to your knees and started unzipping his fly. “Baby…” 

“I can be quick,” you said, looking up at him through your eyelashes as you freed his cock. You never really got used to hot big he was - thick, heavy, long. But you’d be fine choking on him if it meant making him come. 

You started by licking his head and he let out a shuddering little moan and you smiled a little, lapping at the dripping pre-come at his slit like he was your favorite flavor of ice cream. Which, he kind of was. Heady and masculine and Joel, knowing that he was dripping because of you made you want him even more. 

Instead of taking the more gradual route, you took him into your mouth and throat all at once, having to swallow around the head of him as he pushed past your gag reflex. His hand flew to your head, fingers twisting in your hair and sinking into the thin layer of flesh over your skull. 

“Oh fuck,” he panted. “Oh my fucking god…..” 

You sucked him and moaned, the vibration of your vocal chords working the tip of him as it was lodged in your throat. You pressed your tongue against the thick vein that ran along the underside of him before you started pulling back, his grip on your head relaxing just enough to let you do it. You worked is cock up and down, sucking and licking and taking him into your mouth until you started to cough. He panted and moaned as you worked him until, eventually, he was clinging to the sink to stay upright. 

“Fuck, please Baby, I need to come,” he groaned. You smiled as much as you could when your mouth was full of his thick cock. “Lemme… can I…” 

You looked up at him, eyes wide, as you slid down him so he was buried in your mouth to the root and you hummed your approval. His hands immediately flew to your head and he started fucking into your mouth. You took it, swallowing past your gag reflex with each deep stroke. He didn’t last long, just a few pumps, before he was spilling into you, moaning quietly as he did. You swallowed it all, his cock so deep in your throat you could barely even taste him as he pumped his come into you. 

“Fuck,” he all but collapsed against the sink and you carefully slid his cock from your mouth and got up, wiping your mouth on the back of your wrist. You adjusted your bra and tied your shirt again. 

“Worth it?” You teased. 

“Jesus Christ woman,” he groaned. “You’re gonna kill me.” 

You smiled and kissed his cheek before you went to leave the bathroom but he grabbed your arm, pulling you back against him to kiss you deep and long. You tried to hide your surprise. Other guys you’d been with weren’t huge on kissing you after you went down on them. Joel didn’t seem to mind. But then, Joel just wasn’t like other men. You smiled as you pulled back from him and he laughed a little. 

“What?” You frowned. 

“We made a mess of your makeup,” he jerked his head toward the mirror, tucking his cock back in his pants as you checked your reflection. Your lipstick had smeared and you laughed a little, too. 

“Good thing I have more in my bag,” you said, grabbing a sheet of toilet paper and cleaning up what you could. “See you back out there?” 

“Once I remember how to walk again,” he teased. 

It was sheer luck that Maria came in to use the bathroom as you adjusted your lipstick in the entryway mirror and not a few minutes earlier and you popped a breath mint so you could think about something besides the fact that the last thing in your mouth had been Joel’s cock when you talked with Sarah. 

You left only about an hour later, giving Sarah a long hug as she walked you to your car. 

“I’ll be back again soon for Thanksgiving,” she smiled, squeezing you tight. “Just manifest with me!” 

“I’m manifesting so hard I might break something,” you smiled back, trying to ignore the knot of guilt in your stomach about hiding something so big from her. 

“And seriously,” she said, stepping back from you. “If you need a friend before I get down here…” 

“Call the whole Miller clan,” you smiled. “I got it.” 

“Good,” she said. “We’ll just make a Miller out of you yet.” 

You tried to ignore how your heart skipped a beat at the thought of that. 

“Sounds good to me.” 

Joel came straight to your place after dropping Sarah off at the airport the next night. You answered the door in a sundress - as promised - expecting to go to dinner. 

Which, in hindsight, was foolish. 

“Fuck,” you said, looking Joel up and down. He had flowers. He was in a plain, dark t-shirt that was tight around his biceps, his jeans hanging just right on his hips. 

“What?” He frowned. 

“Just get in here and let me fuck you,” you said, grabbing his shirt and pulling him into your apartment. 

The flowers were quickly abandoned on the breakfast bar in your kitchen as you kissed him, tugging his shirt off and casting it aside before you dragged him to the bedroom. 

“We gotta eat at some point tonight, Baby,” he said between kisses as you shoved him down on the bed. 

“That’s fine,” you panted, stepping out of your panties and casting them aside. “We can do this twice.” 

“Fuck, you’re fucking perfect,” he said, lifting his hips so he could slide his pants down a little and sitting so his back was against your headboard. He started working his cock, already hard in the palm of his hand. You straddled him, the skirt of your dress hiding your dripping pussy and his leaking cock from view. He kept one hand on his cock but the other went to your hips as you lowered yourself toward him until your pussy brushed his thick head. “Oh shit, fuck Beautiful, I need… Fuck, need inside you, I need to be inside you…” 

“I know,” you breathed before sinking onto his cock with a shaking moan. His other hand flew to your waist, too, pulling you down on him so his whole length was sheathed within you. You panted for breath as your body adjusted to the intrusion. “I need you, too.” 

“Fuck,” his head fell back against the headboard. “Fuck, you feel so fucking good every time, s’like I belong in this pussy, like your pussy was made to take this cock.” 

“Made to ride this cock,” you moaned, starting to rise and fall over him with a satisfied groan. Joel somehow hit all the right angles inside you, the thickness of his shaft stretching you deliciously, his head finding the sensitive place deep inside you and pressing against it, making your pussy start to tighten around him. 

“Oh shit,” his grip on you got firmer, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh of you. “Want you to come on this cock, Beautiful. Want you to use me to get yourself off, fuck, Baby, make yourself come on my cock…” 

You buried your face in his neck and breathed in his deep, clean, masculine scent and started riding him harder, adjusting your hips so your clit was leaving an obscene, messy streak of your slick up and down his bare stomach. You licked and sucked at his neck as you rode him, fucking down on him hard and fast and grinding your clit against him. As your body tightened, you sat up straighter, pressing your forehead to his own so you could see his face, the liquid heat in you centering around where he was inside you until you came with a desperate moan around him. 

“There we go,” he almost sounded like he was in pain he was so desperate. “Fuck, you come so fuckin’ pretty Baby, so goddamn pretty. Feel so good, coming on my cock, better than anything else, fuck Beautiful, I can’t…” 

Joel took control of your hips then, pumping you up and down his shaft and you tried to help as best you could as you rode out your orgasm. His hips fucked up into you hard and fast until he was emptying himself into you, moaning as he did. 

You collapsed on top of him, panting for breath and he went from holding your hips to wrapping his arms around you, holding you close to him. You stayed like that for a few minutes, your breaths synchronizing as you both came back down from our highs. 

“So,” you said, breathing not quite back to normal yet. “Dinner?” 

He laughed. 

“Dinner.” 

When you fell asleep in Joel’s arms that night, all naked and entwined with him, you were starting to think that you could get used to this. That you wanted to do this all the time, every day. Do all of life’s stupid little things with him, go grocery shopping with him and pay the water bill with him and deal with traffic jams with him. 

You just weren’t sure how to talk about that yet. 

But that was OK. You were getting there, you could tell. 

When Joel kissed you goodbye in the morning, he brushed your hair back from your forehead so he could kiss you there too. 

“Leaving already?” You mumbled. 

“‘Fraid so,” he said softly. “Need to get an early start at the job site. Can I see you tonight?” 

You just hummed in response. He frowned. 

“That’s a yes, I hope,” he said. You nodded and you opened your eyes just enough to see him smile broadly. “I’ll text you. Have a good day, Baby.” 

“You too,” you mumbled into your pillow. 

When you got up an hour later, there was a sticky note on your coffee maker, telling you to check your fridge. Inside was an iced latte from the coffee shop down the street and you smiled so big it was hard to do your makeup as you got ready to go. 

You were still on cloud nine when you were getting ready to take a client to lunch that afternoon, doing a last check of your makeup when you got a call from the reception desk downstairs. 

“Someone’s here for you,” the receptionist sounded skeptical. “I’m not letting him back without you.” 

“No problem,” you laughed. “We’re going off site for lunch, tell him I’ll be down in a minute.” 

You went to the lobby, looking for someone who at least vaguely resembled the headshot from your client’s website when you did a double take. 

The man sitting on the couch in reception smiled when he saw you and your heart sank into your stomach as he headed for you. 

“Hey Angel,” he smiled. 

You couldn’t smile back. 

“Shit.”  

Next Chapter

[ateliersss]

I wish I could stay in the Past

Pairing: Billy Loomis x Fem!Reader Summary: Who would have thought that 27 years after the first Woodsboro massacre, you still couldn't live in peace? Now, you have been asked by Agent Kirby Reed to come to New York, where apparently a new Ghostface killer was on the loose. For you, this meant going back into your past and meeting the person you were trying to protect from your life since she was born. Cross-posted on AO3: here Warnings: Spoilers for Scream VI, English isn't my first language Word Count: 5,890

Kirby stood in front of the white board plastered with photos of every Ghostface killer from 1996 to 2022, of the masks found at the crime scenes, and of the victims killed so far.

“…Mickey Altieri, Nancy Loomis, Stu Macher and Billy Loomis. Number One and also the father of our chief suspect.”

Detective Bailey, arms crossed before his chest, nodded before adding, “It’s all leading us back to Sam.”

“What about the girlfriend?” Kirby suddenly mumbled, more to herself than addressing the Detective.

“What? Who’s girlfriend?”

“(Y/N) (L/N). She and Billy were childhood sweethearts. Although she was never personally involved in any Ghostface incidents following 1996 she could never quite live her life in peace. I mean, come on. The mourning love interest has to be a main suspect. His mother tried to avenge his death and no one thought about that either. Then boom! Dead teenagers everywhere.”

Bailey turned his face to look at her with a raised eyebrow.

“What? It’s just an idea.”

“Hm.” He hummed, “It could be worth a shot.”

A totally stupid shot, because what sane person would suddenly seek revenge after 27 years? Well, if it keeps her occupied, who am I to stop her?

“Any idea on how we can reach her?”

Kirby smirked. “Of course I do.”

New York was far too loud, far too big and far too dirty for your liking. You preferred the calmness and the quiet of a nice little town somewhere far away from any crime or even the smallest hint of being dragged into another drama. You really thought you would finally be at peace, having that calm and quiet life, until you got a call from Agent Kirby Reed. You remember that name well. Besides Sidney and Gale, obviously, she was the only victim who survived the Second Woodsboro Massacre. On the phone she told you that someone had put on the Ghostface mask again and was after a group of teenagers. She wanted you to come to New York right away so you could be questioned.

It wasn’t the first time you were a suspect but being one again after almost 30 years? You were about to give vent to the familiar old feeling of simmering anger for being falsely accused again when…

“Your niece was among those who were attacked.”

“Sam?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m on my way. It’s going to take a few hours.”

“That’s alright. When you arrive in New York go straight to the NYPD and tell them you are here to see Agent Reed. Someone will show you the way to the office I’m currently occupying.”

You were just about to open the car door and leave the parking lot near the police station when you got a text.

[Agent Reed]: Change of plans. Someone thinks you need to see this too. Come to this address.

So now you were standing in front of some kind run-down movie theatre, not knowing if you were at the right place. You read the text message again… nope, still the same street name and the same house number. You were about to dial Kirby’s number when someone called your name.

“Over here!”

You turned to the blonde woman standing a few meters away from you, holding open a metal door. “Agent Kirby Reed?” You asked.

“The one and only.” She nodded for you to follow her. “Come in, the others are already inside.”

It’s strange, you thought. I’m actually meeting Samantha.

You stopped at a metal bar door that already allowed you an insight of the room ahead of you. There was tingling feeling in your belly.

“You’re ready?”

You nodded as an answer, not trusting your mouth to form a decent sentence.

It felt like you were pushed back into your 18-year-old-self. Mannequins, display shelves and cases were set up and lead to a stage. It was impossible to take everything in at the same time so you walked through the row that was closest to you. Years of evidence put together like it was a museum, like a fucking…

“A shrine.” Kirby said from behind you. “Dedicated to every killer that put on the mask.”

You barely registered what she just said when you saw what was displayed at the end of the row. You almost couldn’t believe your eyes. There… There were Tatum’s clothes, the ones she wore when she was killed… and there was the robe Stu wore at his party… and Billy’s bloody t-shirt. You walked past a sitting mannequin looking exactly like Steve Orth until you were standing right in front of the white cloth still covered in blood. Huffing out a shaky breath, you reached out to touch it. Your fingers traced from every hole where he was stabbed until it stopped on the chest of the mannequin. You almost expected to feel a heartbeat underneath your skin…

Oh Billy.

Maybe it was the overwhelming, morbid nostalgic feeling that almost crushed you seeing all those reminders of your past, but you still hadn’t noticed the small group on the stage next to you watching you either with curious or wary eyes.

You were still caught up in your head, thinking back to that afternoon on September 28th in 1996 — you, reading another true crime novel and playing with the brown curls of your boyfriend’s hair while his head rested on your lap, napping. You two had stayed in this position until the sun went down. The clock read 6 PM when you decided to make dinner and he left the kitchen to make a quick phone call. When he got back…

“Billy, are you serious? There is a killer outside!”

“Stu lives only 10 minutes away. I’ll take the car.”

“Are you sure? Shouldn’t we call the police?”

“No, it’s alright. I’m just gonna make sure he doesn’t overdo it. You know how he is.”

You laughed, “Yeah, I do and I love him for that.”

Billy tilted his head, an amused glint in his eyes. “Oh really? I thought you loved me.”

The smile on your face grew brighter as he bent down to place a gentle kiss on your lips. “I do love you. So much.”

You snapped out of your thoughts.

It would have been perfect. A concerned Billy wanting to make sure his best friend was okay so he goes to his party to check on him, but is surprised by the killer. Both, he and Stu, are fighting to survive and in the end, sadly, they are the only ones still alive. The police would have believed them that it was Sidney’s father all along and you and Billy could have lived a happily ever after in another town, away from all that traumatic shit he ‘went through’.

But the reality was different. Billy had been a psychotic serial killer, murdering friends and class mates and even Sidney’s mother. He had been the one getting addicted to the feeling of killing someone after Maureen Prescott, he had been the one who had done all those horrible things…

“Kirby, who’s that?” A female voice asked.

Kirby gave you a quick look before answering, “This is (Y/N) (L/N)-“

“(Y/N)?” Gale interrupted her and watched you climb the stairs of the stage.

You first inspected each of the 9 Ghostface mannequins — your eyes lingering on the middle one a little longer — before acknowledging her. You still held a grudge against her considering how much she had turned your life upside down.

“Hello Gale. Long time no see.” You greeted her with a tight smile on your lips. “And since I was ordered here for an interrogation, let’s be honest. It’s actually (Y/N) Carpenter.”

Everyone but Gale suddenly straightened up before the teenagers of the group looked at the two girls closest to the Ghostface costume in the glass case. Both looked at you with furrowed eyebrows as if they were trying to somehow place you in their family tree.

Looking at her made you tear up. You smiled. “Hi Samantha.”

“It’s… just Sam, actually. I’m sorry, do I know you?” She asked you, confused, still trying to remember where and when she met you.

“You don’t, but I know you. Christina told me everything about you, always kept me up-to-date.” You took a quick breathe to control your emotions. “God, you’ve grown. You look so much like him.”

Sam shifted on her feet, not liking where this conversation was going. “Him? You mean my father.”

“How do you know our mom?” The short girl next to her butt in. She seemed just as wary as her sister.

“Christina is my older sister.”

“So you’re our aunt.”

“Not exactly. I’m your aunt, Tara.” You said before addressing Sam directly, “Christina called me when you found out who your real father is in those diaries.” You were really about to drop the bomb. “You know, those diaries weren’t hers… they were mine.”

“What are you saying?”

“That the one who got pregnant by Billy Loomis wasn’t Christina. It was me.”

Sam looked at you like you've grown a second head. “So what? You’re… You’re my mother?”

“Biological, yes. In any other way, probably not.”

“Oh my God.” She started to walk up and down with her hands gripping her hair. “Oh my God.”

“I know it’s a lot, but-“

“A lot? You just come here, a total stranger, and tell me you’re my mother when the woman who raised me all those years isn’t actually my mom but my aunt!”

“I don't expect you to replace her with me and accept me as your new mother, Sam. I’m not planning on taking you with me to force you into mother-daughter-relationship after 26 years. I’m here to help you.”

Sam’s head whipped around to look at Kirby.

“She’s on my suspect list, Sam.” Kirby shrugged, “Apparently no one thinks about the revengeful love interest.”

“But I have an alibi.” You defended yourself, “I wasn’t even near New York when the teacher and the students were murdered. Same goes to the therapist and your two friends. I actually expected being questioned at the NYPD, but if you actually want to interrogate me here, go ahead.”

“Then why are you here? This very place?”

You looked back at Tara. “Because Agent Reed told me to. From what she told me we experienced similar situations and she thought I had a right to see this too.” You looked around the room. “My past is on display here as much as hers or Gale's.”

Sam shook her head, taking a step forward. “So, just to get this straight. You get knocked up by a serial killer and then just leave the baby with your sister? You found out you were pregnant with me and dumped me because what? You didn’t want to be a mom at such a young age? Or was it because you were disgusted by me?”

Your eyes widened. Of course you expected some resistance and some accusations, but it was still like a knife to your heart to see her betrayed expression and hear her furious voice. “No, of course not. I loved you the second I held you in my arms.”

“Then why?”

“I had no other choice! Do you know how hard it was, living like I had to after your father died? The names they called me? And you… you were the size of a grape and they already called you the Devil’s Spawn. No one wants to raise a child in an environment like that.”

“So you just abandoned me? Left me behind so you could get away from everything?”

“I didn’t abandon you, I gave you a safe life away from every threat that could hurt you or even corrupt you. After that night when… when it all happened, my normal life was over. Either all those blase do-gooders in Woodsboro treated me like I put a Ghostface mask on and killed all those people myself, or I was viewed by these Stab-obsessed lunatics as some sort of precious artifact left behind by their idol. I was ambushed by dozens of assholes in costumes and got 3 or 4 calls a day. Even after I moved to other towns, fuck, even to another state, and I still couldn't live my life in peace. Thanks, by the way.” You turned to Gale.

“What, me?”

“The tirade of hate you wrote about me in your damn books. First the boyfriend, then the mother of the boyfriend, and then even Roman Bridger just because he was the one who stirred Billy on into going on a killing spree. You even mentioned me in your fourth book when I literally had no connection to anything that happened that year! You made it look like I pulled the strings, egged on every Ghostface, and was planning every murder, Gale.”

“No, I didn’t.”

 “Yes, you did. Just like you called Sam a born killer, you called me the secret Ghostface that got away who will someday get revenge on Sidney for killing the love of her life.”

Gale opened her mouth, but having nothing to reply with, she closed it again.

Using the following silence to return to the current problem, Chad asked, “So, just to make sure before that–” He awkwardly gestured to you and Sam “–happened. Someone killed these chucklefucks and took over?”

“Someone who believes that Sam masterminded Woodsboro.”

“If this would be a movie this would be the killer’s lair.”

“Which means this isn’t a normal Stab movie.”

Apparently that gave Tara the rest, as she left the stage with brisk steps and disappeared into an adjoining room. Sam was hot on her heels.

Shortly thereafter, the rest of the group split up — Kirby joined Mindy to sit on the edge of the stage, Ethan and Chad were on different sides of the room, looking at the displayed evidence, and Detective Bailey was talking to someone on the phone.

You finally had time to walk to and look at the glass case in front of you. It was a bittersweet feeling, knowing that the one you had loved the most in this world killed four people and thereby started a future death streak, all committed in costumes of his alter ego.

You were so deep in thought that ten minutes had passed and you hadn't noticed that Sam was back and was standing behind you.

“Are you married?” She asked, attracting your attention.

You took your eyes off of Billy’s name plate and looked into her brown ones that reminded you so much of her father’s. “What?”

Sam nodded down to your hand. “Do you have a family?”

Ahh…

“Oh, no. No, I don’t. That’s a promising ring. You know, when you promise someone to stay together forever and maybe get married one day. Do you kids still do that?”

“Yeah, when we’re like twelve, not fifty.”

You chuckled. “Ouch. I still have six years until I’m not that old.” Sighing, you touched the ring and rolled it around your ring finger. “No, I was actually twelve years when… well, when your dad gifted it to me. So young and he already wanted to spend the rest of his life with me. This one–” You held the hand with the ring at eye level, “–was never ever replaced since then. His is right here.” You pulled the silver chain from underneath your t-shirt and revealed a similar ring just slightly bigger.

A shiver ran down Sam’s back, before asking in disbelief, “You kept it?”

“I did. And I know it seems like I went crazy or something while grieving, but I was young and devastated. I just lost the love of my life. Some grow distant and want to avoid anything that has to do with their lost loved one or being constantly reminded of them. Others, like me, have to hold onto every little fiber of them. I wore his clothes, put on his cologne… God, it was really a terrible way to cope.”

Sam grimaced.

You smiled slightly. “What?”

“It’s just strange hearing someone talk about him like he was…”

“Human?”

“He killed people, he was murderer, and you… you loved him.”

“Do you think it’s easy to stop loving someone in mere seconds? Minutes, hours, days, weeks? You have that person who you would die for, who you would kill for. This person is your everything, and you can’t imagine a life without them. So you plan it with that person; how you will graduate, how you will find a job, how you will leave both your parent’s houses to move together, maybe move to a new town, how you will have children with them, how you will marry them, and how you will grow old with them. Billy was my person, the one I wanted all those boring normal things with. And you have those normal things. You hold hands, cuddle, kiss, go on dates...” You stopped and took a breath. “Until the police shows up at your door and tells you that the one who had murdered your friends was him all along. There’s a sliver of hope that maybe, maybe you can visit him in prison so you can talk to him. But that won’t happen because the police tells you right after that he had been killed by your best friend, Sidney Prescott, and that they have some questions for you.”

You still remember how they interrogated you and asked you if you knew about Billy’s doings, if they were signs that seemed suspicious, asked you about the places you have been when he and Stu killed another victim and if there were people who could vouch for you. After two hours they finally let you go, saying they would call you if they had any more questions. You asked if you could see him, his body. Since his mother left, his father was nowhere to be found and Billy had no other close relatives, you were the next best option.

The moment you saw him, lying there cold and pale on that metal table, your whole world crumbled. With slow shaky steps you had walked closer and closer to him. Almost relieved for something to hold on, you had supported yourself by grabbing the table. At that moment you didn’t care who could see you or who could hear you… you just cried. Your sobs and hysterical breathing had filled the room, your knees buckling and your knuckles turning white from how hard you had clutched the table.

“No. No, no, no.”

You had started to hyperventilate. It got harder and harder to breathe. The walls seemed to grow closer.

And then everything went black.

When you woke up in a hospital bed you were greeted by a nurse who tried to calm you down. She told you, according to the coroner, you had passed out after having a panic attack. Just to make sure that was the actual reason they ran a few tests — nothing special, just the usual hospitals did when patients arrived unconscious. She had reassured you after you gave her a concerned look.

“Don’t worry, honey. The results of blood tests didn’t show anything worrying, but I can give you my congratulations. You are pregnant.”

Pregnant.

With Billy’s…

“You are three weeks along. The embryo is as tiny as a poppy seed, just a millimeter.”

You had gaped at her still in disbelief.

Pregnant.

You were pregnant.

You were pregnant with Billy’s baby.

Billy…

Tears had started to form in your eyes and the nurse got blurry. Again there was this feeling in your chest that there was not enough air around you and it got harder to breathe.

“Hey, it’s okay, sweetie. Since you’re only eighteen, we called your parents. They should be here soon.”

Your mom and dad had been more or less supportive. They had always loved Billy. There had been many get-together’s with his family — barbecue, picnics, movie nights. Your parents got along well. But when Billy was revealed as the Ghostface killer, yours had cut ties with the Loomis family and sheltered you from any contact from them.

What they couldn’t shelter you from was Nancy Loomis’ surprise visit three months later. Thanks to Gale’s book — because she somehow managed to find out the reason for your visit to the hospital and because this heartbreaking twist would boost her sales — everyone knew you were pregnant. Including Mrs. Loomis.

You were still stuck deep in your depression. You went from mourning him to call everything into question — was it all a lie? Every touch, every kiss, every I-love-you, every time you made love and talked about the most intimate things — to mourning him again. You were a mess.

It was too much when Billy’s mother was suddenly standing on your doorstep. You had slammed the door right into her face when you saw who was interrupting your crying fest, but through the door she had convinced you to let her in so you could talk. Your hormones got the better of you and you opened the door. Her eyes flew instantly to your belly, but your baby bump wasn’t visible through the white tee and the blue flannel.

“You have his clothes?”

“I have all his stuff. His clothes, his posters, his movies.”

You had talked to Hank and begged him to have some of his things. He had stopped you mid-rant and said you could have everything you wanted; he didn’t want it in his house. So you grabbed everything you could. When you saw the pictures displayed in his room — of you and of you and him — you turned into a crying mess and collapsed on his bed. His pillow still had smelled like him.

You must have fallen asleep because the next thing you remember was Mr. Loomis shaking you awake, looking into your bloodshot eyes and asking you if you were okay.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t want to-“

“(Y/N), I asked you if you’re okay.”

You had pressed your wobbly lips together and shook your head. He had engulfed you in his arms and tried his best to comfort you. After all, you were still you and despite every negative thought and feeling he held for his son and his deeds, you were not at fault. You were still the little girl from next door he had hoped to be his future daughter-in-law. You left that day with most of his stuff carefully packed up in the trunk of your car. You knew this wasn’t healthy, morbid even — the girl who grabbed the belongings of her dead killer-boyfriend to put everything in her room to have at least a hint of his presence, a imaginary possibility of him still being here with her. Now there were even more pictures of your smiling faces on your shelf, your desk, the table next to your bed and on your walls. Your closet was fuller with the addition of his t-shirts and his jackets. His movie collection was proudly placed next to yours on your shelf.

There was also a box under your bed. When you went through Billy’s tiny walk-in closet you found a cavity hidden behind the wallpaper. Inside of it was a black costume, a Ghostface mask and a knife.

A bloody knife.

Whose blood was that?!

Before you could muster another thought you scrambled to the garbage can and emptied your stomach. When you were done you felt a wave of guilt wash over you.

What were you doing? How did you not notice any suspicious change?

Well, there was this one time after his mom left. He had been so distant, strange, and there had been a dark glint in his eyes when you had cornered him after a week of radio silence. The look he fixed you with gave you the heebie-jeebies. He came around a few days later and acted like nothing had happened between the two of you.

Going back to Mrs. Loomis’ visit, you took your time warming up to her. Seeing her cry and listening to her begging you for forgiveness in Billy’s stead. Under the influence of, again, your stupid pregnancy hormones you gave in and made her a cup of tea. You two talked for hours, mostly about her son and how much she regretted leaving him behind, then Mrs. Loomis wanted you to tell her everything about what happened after leaving and what happened that night in Stu Macher’s house. When you ended your story with your pregnancy, she smiled.

“Even though he’s gone there is still a part of him with us. There is still something important I have to do, but after that I will take care of you and the little one and support the both of you in any way possible. I promise, sweetie.”

As it turned out, the important thing she had to do was to kill Sidney. The target on your back you thought had disappeared returned with Gale Weather’s second book. Again, you were harassed and threatened until you couldn’t take it anymore and you moved away. It got harder each time since you were in the last stages of pregnancy. It hurt thinking about it, but you would never put your baby into a life like this. So you did what you thought was right.

Your sister was more than happy to take her in. Christina would inherit their family’s home and would be able to raise your daughter — now your niece — safely.

Snapping out of your thoughts you continued, “Back then I was at the lowest point in my life and out of all people Sidney was the one who got me back on track. My mom and dad, your grandparents, must have asked her to come over to talk to me. I actually thought she would just turn around and walk away when she saw my room, considering it was crammed with Billy's stuff. He was in every corner of it, the man who killed her mother and almost killed her. She should be the one staying in bed, crying until she passed out. After all she’s the one who survived all that traumatic shit. ”

“Sidney visited you?”

You huffed. “Of course she did. I was her best friend. Randy and I were the only survivors out of our friend group. He and Sidney were the only ones who still treated me like a normal human being.” You shrugged. “Anyways. Sidney was there for me. At first I wasn't sure if I even wanted to see her. Inside, I knew she had no choice but to kill Billy, but I still held a grudge against her. I was afraid I would take all my anger and sadness out on her. But the second she put her arms around me, all negative thoughts disappeared and I realized how much I needed my best friend at that moment. She got me out of bed, made me go to see a therapist and kept reminding me of you, Sam.” You looked at your daughter. “I couldn’t allow myself to be selfish. I had to think of your well-being, too.”

Sam nodded in understanding and then looked around the room. “I… I'll go check on Tara.” It looked like she wanted to add something, but she apparently she couldn't find the right words.

You gave her a sanguinely smile. “You do that. When this is all over, I promise you that we can talk about everything in peace and I will answer any question you might have. Only if you want, of course.”

“I’d like that.” Sam said before turning around to go looking for her sister.

You watched her until she disappeared from your sight and turned back to Billy's costume. It didn’t even look that scary from your point of view — which might have been due to the lack of a mask — but almost 30 years ago you had thought of it differently. You looked to the Ghostface costume on the right, your eyes slowly dragging down the black fabric until they reached the name tag.

Stu.

You looked up again, scrutinizing the whole look.

You remember the first and only time you were face to face with it. Your parents were on a once-in-a-blue-moon date in a nice restaurant, leaving you alone for a few hours. They only had been out of the house for 30 minutes when you got the infamous call. You skipped to the living room, letting you dinner heat up in the microwave, and picked up.

“Hello?”

“Hello.”

“Yes?”

“Am I talking to (Y/N)?”

“Yeah. Who is this?”

“You could say a secret admirer.”

“Oh yeah? Well I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I have boyfriend whom I love very much.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah.” You giggled, lazily playing with the phone cord.

“That’s a shame, really. In that little dress you look like a girl a guy would kill for.”

The smile completely disappeared from your face as you turned to every window the living room possessed.

“What?”

It felt like someone had punched you in the gut, knocking all the air out of your lungs. You abruptly remember the things Sidney had told you about what happened that night when she was attacked — the smooth male voice, the things he said that gave her the chills, him in a black robe and a white ghost mask, trying to kill her.

Before you could think twice you slammed the telephone handle on the hook.

“Okay, okay. Just relax. Just some weirdo trying to scare you. It doesn't necessarily have to be-”

You shrieked when the doorbell rang.

“Jesus.” With a hand pressed against your chest, you walked to the door. “Who’s there?”

No answer.

“Billy, is that you?”

There was no other possibility than him, considering you casually mentioned to him that your parents weren’t home with a mischievous smirk on your lips. This time he wouldn’t have to sneak through your window. You were just opening the door, pondering whether you should tell him about the weird call or not, when you were met with a white ghost mask.

Screaming, you slammed the door shut and locked it. You could hear his body colliding with the door, kicking against it, trying to open it. You didn’t even think about waiting for him to successfully gain access and ran up to your room. You locked the door of your room too before grabbing your cell phone and dialing Billy’s number.

“Billy, please. Billy, please. Pick up, please.”

You ran to the window that was facing Billy’s. His room was completely dark.

You let out a whimper. “Come on, Billy, please. Please pick up.” Tears streamed down your face. When you heard the door slam against the wall downstairs, you clamped a hand over your mouth to stifle a scream.

“(Y/N)?”

Relief washed over you. You swirled around, seeing Billy standing at his window with his phone pressed against his ear.

“Billy…” You tried to control your breath. “T-There is someone in the house… the killer. He is wearing the mask Sidney told us about. He is… He is…”

You watched your boyfriend disappear, presumably running out of his room to get to you.

“It’s okay, baby. Is your door locked?” He asked.

“Yes.”

“Okay, good. Push your dresser in front of the door and hide in the closet. Stay there until I tell you it’s safe. I’m coming, baby, you hear me?”

You heard him skipping down the stairs, listened to his reassuring words.

“I-I’m scared, Billy. I don’t want t-to die.”

“You won’t, I promise you. Just do what I told you. Now!”

Nodding, you ran to your dresser and pushed against it with your whole body weight until it was in front of your door. Next you ran to your closet, pulled open the door, closed it and crouched in a corner far back against the wall.

“I’m in the closet.” You whispered and when you got no answer you added, “Billy? Bill-”

You were interrupted by a loud “Hey!” and something that sounded like fighting noises. Whimpering you fought with yourself — on the one hand you wanted to disobey Billy’s wishes and help him out of concern that the killer might hurt him; on the other hand you wanted to do what he told you and stay hidden.

Meanwhile, Billy was seething as he grabbed his best friend by his collar and forcefully pushed him against the wall in the narrow floor leading to your room. He pulled down the mask and revealed Stu’s jolly face.

“What the fuck did I tell you, huh? (Y/N) is off-limits!” Billy whisper-yelled, pulling Stu lightly to himself before slamming him hard against the wall, not releasing his grip.

Stu groaned. “I just wanted to scare her a little. I thought it would be funny.”

If he weren't Billy’s best friend and if they didn't have big plans ahead of themselves, Billy would have strangled him by now. He tried to channel his rage and took a deep breath before saying, “Listen, dipshit. She. Is. Off. Limits! Killing your ex? I’m in. Her new boy toy? No problem. But keep your fucking hands off of her or I’ll cut your fingers off one by one and push them down your throat, got it?”

Stu gulped and nodded, his big smile morphing into a smaller one. He wasn’t scared of Billy, but Stu had to admit that there were some moments when his aggressions got worrisome.

“Now get out!” Billy hissed and let go of Stu. He waited a moment before knocking on your door.

“(Y/N), it’s me. It’s okay, he’s gone.”

There was shuffling behind the door and a minute later you ripped it open and flung yourself into his arms. Billy was shushing you, caressing your back while listening to you crying. “It’s okay, I’m here.” He kept saying.

When your breathing calmed down, he pulled away from you and placed his hands on both of your cheeks while looking deep into your eyes.

“You’re stupid, you know that?” You mumbled, “Without thinking you ran into a house with a killer in it.”

“The only thing I could think in that moment was you.”

You slightly shook your head with a small smile. “You’re so cheesy.”

Billy huffed a laugh before turning serious again. “Are you hurt?”

“No. I was fast enough to close the door, ran upstairs, lock my door and hide in the closet just as you told me. There won’t even be bruise.”

“Good.” He nodded and kissed you forehead. “It won’t happen again, I promise.”

You, of course, had no idea what happened that evening outside of your room. You didn’t know about the lengths he would go for you to keep you safe. You didn’t know he would have killed for you. You didn’t know that Billy’s feelings and his love for you were genuine, something you truly questioned after the things Sidney had told you about that night. You didn’t know that he felt scared when he realized that his plan was failing and he maybe wouldn't be able to see you again. You didn’t know that you were his last thought before he was shot in the head.

[prototypesteve]

1994. A little story about my asexuality being misinterpreted (by a professional) as a disorder, and how that led to years of trouble.

Animation Description: An aromatic-asexual sense pride flag, onto which someone writes "So the thing is… I don't think I've ever had what my friends say would qualify as a real crush, and even after four years of college I still haven't started dating, but maybe the weirdest part is that I've never wanted to." Then, abruptly and violently black paint is spattered across the message and in white text someone superimposes the dismissive message "It's just low self esteem! – Expert opinion"

In 1994, I went to see a counsellor.

What happened was some friends and I were just talking about life. We were all in our early 20s, and so of course sex came up, and I confided that no, I hadn’t had it yet. In fact, I hadn’t even been on anything that would qualify as a date, yet.

I’ve always had good luck with friends. Instead of teasing me about it, one of them gave me the name of a counselling clinic, because they thought it might be worth checking that everything was okay, and there wasn’t something getting in the way. (It was the 1990s, and Generation X didn’t have taboos about getting help.) So I made an appointment.

I described what we’d now call textbook aromantic asexuality. I explained that I was 22, and hadn’t yet been in a relationship. I hadn’t even had anything like a crush. I hadn’t experimented; no kisses on a dare. I had pretty good friendships with guys and girls, but nothing closer than friendship. I felt “behind schedule,” especially because my friends all found it odd that I was still inexperienced.

The counsellor gently asked if I felt it was because I wasn’t allowed to be “experienced”. They noted that I referred to everything euphemistically. Experienced. Relationship. Spark. Feelings. Dating. I never said love, sex, aroused, boyfriend, or girlfriend. I never said romance. Was it because my parents had some strict taboos around seeing girls while I was just fresh out of college, when I should be focused on my career? (I’m half Japanese so that was plausible.) Was it because I felt I wasn’t allowed to love the people I felt attracted to, because I might have been gay or bisexual and hiding that? (Also a fair question, because, sadly, the 90s still weren’t a safe or fair time for my gay and lesbian friends—I didn’t know that I knew any bi or trans people at the time, although I’m sure I did.)

I thought about it. The honest answers were no. My family didn’t make me feel like dating was inappropriate or wasteful, and I just didn’t feel anything “special” for any of my guy friends (and I had guy friends who were comfortable telling me they were gay).

I went on. I explained that I felt happy. I didn’t see any obvious signs of depression or illness or anything. All I felt was a little embarrassed about being so far behind all my friends. Not dating, not “feeling the spark”, not having a “type,” and not having any thoughts on a future family all made me feel immature, and like maybe I had some kind of developmental thing going on. I knew what all those things were. I wasn’t some sheltered or repressed prude. I just wasn’t doing any of that stuff. Not even the perfectly innocent stuff like having a crush, or even really having a “type.”

But it was 1994 and counsellors didn’t have asexual or aromantic on their list of things it might be. So the best the counsellor could guess was that I just didn’t feel good about myself. It must have been low self esteem. (The early 90s still reeked of the yuppie success-or-die greedhead era.) Their guess was that I might have felt my sexuality was something I didn’t feel I had earned the right to access yet, evidenced by my using euphemisms to describe love, romance, and sexuality.

They suggested I read “Feeling Good, the New Mood Therapy” by David Burns, and not worry, because some people are just late bloomers.

And I left there, redirected away from a truth that neither of us knew about. And it would be nearly thirty years before I “reopened the case”, and asked the same questions and got a better answer: Some people experience little to no sexual or romantic attraction. They aren’t necessarily repulsed by sex, or driven away by trauma. They might even have perfectly natural responses to sexual stimuli either alone or with others, but they just don’t feel “I want that, and I want it with this specific person, or this specific sort of person”. They call those people aromantic and/or asexual, based on a presumption that romantic and sexual attraction can sometimes be experienced independently.

I learned that in 2022.

I needed to know that in 1994.

I know I’ll gradually get over that. But yeah. I feel a lot of things about it. Some of them are bad things. But what I’m going to choose to feel about it is grateful that the person who needed answers in 1994 made it to my answers in 2022, and didn’t fall apart in 2022 when I found those answers.

I didn’t let that lost time break me. I didn’t let the mistakes I made crush me. I didn’t find anyone to blame. (That counsellor in 1994 wasn’t hiding anything from me. The world just didn’t talk about people off the Kinsey Scale.) I didn’t let it derail my faith. Asexuality isn’t a curse, and our confusion and fear about the gift of being different like this isn’t the Gift-Giver’s fault.

I’m just going to keep moving. With answers. I’m looking forward to seeing what happens next.

[damiansgoodgirll]

Being your big brother’s best mate, Marcus is obsessed with you but he just can’t, so he tries to keep his distance as much as possible, until he finds you crying in your room because some idiot had you thinking you’re not pretty nor sexy enough, that no guy would ever want you if you kept being so shy and uptight all the time. So yeah Marcus can’t hold back anymore and makes it his mission to show you otherwise. Basically, if you’re okay with it, some angst turning into sweet smut, with him showing you how much he craves and adores you just the way you are with your shyness and all

Also idk if it’s worth writing in general so feel free to ignore it if you don’t like it🤍

this is my first time writing for marcus, i hope you like it 🫶🏻

marcus rashford x reader

fluff and implied smut!!

Love confession

marcus knew it was wrong having feeling for you. he was your brother’s best friend and he practically grew up with you. you were like his little sister but over time he started developing feelings for you in a not so brotherly way.

he knew you like the palm of his hand.

he was there for you when you had your first date and he was there for you when your boyfriend cheated on you. you were only seventeen at the time but you swore you were in love with him. and he was the one who wiped away your tears and held you all night while you cried over your ex.

he hated seeing you crying, especially over someone who wasn’t even worth of your tears.

and as the years went by he tried to stop his feelings for you, he really did but you were like a magnet to him. always finding his way somehow.

so he started avoiding your brother, saying he was too busy with practice and football games. but that implied that he started avoiding you too and that pained you because you thought he would never leave. he started answering to your text messages with short answers and sometimes he would leave you on read. you tried to call him but he wouldn’t reply.

you thought he was mad at you for something you did even if you weren’t sure.

so one night you drove all the way to his house because you got tired of his childish behaviour.

he heard your car in his driveway and he was surprised seeing you on his doorstep.

“hey y/n…what brings you here?” he asked with the fakest smile possible. he knew why you were there he just didn’t want to face the consequences of his actions.

“why?” you simply asked him.

“why? why what?”

“why are you ignoring me? you stopped texting me, answering my calls, hell, you even stopped texting my brother! your best friend! whatever got into you, you better sort it out because my brother doesn’t deserve this…he’s always been by your side and you are basically ghosting him…and if you got some problems with me…i’m here to listen to” you told him once he let you inside his home.

“i’m not mad at you…not at you or at your brother, i’ve just been very busy with the team and the games…” he said.

“oh cut the bullshit marcus! i know you! you’ve been a player all your life and you’ve never, never ignored us so much! what is your problem?” you asked him, clearly mad at his answer.

“you! you are my problem y/n…”

“w-what? is something i did?” you asked him.

“no…that’s the point, you did nothing wrong” he whispered.

“so what is it?” you asked him again but he started avoiding your look “marcus please…”

“you are my problem because i can’t stop these feelings i have for you…this is so wrong in many ways, you’re my best friend’s little sister, we grew up together but i…i think i’m in love with you and i don’t know how to stop it” he confessed completely avoiding your look.

your mind was spinning. you’ve been in love with marcus for years. you started have feelings for him the moment you found out your boyfriend cheated on you. marcus was there to pick you up and to help you get over him. he held you that night, he wiped away your tears and made you feel safe. you were just too stupid and young to realise that the man you needed was right beside you.

you did the most irrational thing you could ever think of and grabbing him by the neck of his t-shirt you pulled him closer to you and you kissed him.

he was shocked but he immediately started kissing you too.

“this is so wrong…” he whispered.

“i’ve always liked you marcus…i was just too stupid and afraid of your rejection” you confessed too.

“what about your brother?” he asked you softly while he stared into your eyes.

“he’s definitely not my first thought right now…” you joked and he smiled too.

“i can’t believe we were so stupid, what we could have been if we confessed years ago?” he sarcastically asked you and that made you laugh “but we’re here now…you’re all mine, and i really, really, want to show you how a real man should treat a princess like you…”he grabbed your hips and held you closer to his body “i really want to show you how much i need you right now” he kissed you once again.

“then take me to bed mister rashford…” you whispered in his ear.

that was all he needed from you because he has been waiting that moment all his life and he couldn’t believe how lucky he was.

[inflatingnblue]

I just wanna say that you’re beautiful, all the kinky shit aside. I’ve been getting posts recommended to me on my tumblr fyp that say you liked them, and they’re all horrible upsetting pro-ana stuff, and I don’t know if those are old likes or new ones, but I hope you aren’t falling prey to those demons. They’re always wrong, and all they ever want is to erase you and make you less of who you’re meant to be. You deserve better 💜

This is a long one, friends, so feel free to skip.

First, thank you for sending, Anon. You didn't have to and you still did.

Recovery is complicated, and that's an understatement. Although I like Violet and "blowing up," that's all in fantasy land. In the real world, I would like nothing more than to lose weight.

For the longest time I've believed that my worth comes from being thin and beautiful, that things would make sense and fall into place. That I wouldn't hate myself anymore if I could just get to the right size and then being the right size would also equate to beauty.

I started gaining weight after I was in recovery for a year. I gained a lot over the course of several years. I couldn't figure out what was wrong; working with my dietitian, going to the doctor's, getting test after test to just be told 🤷🏻‍♀️. I thought I was losing my mind. It was really hard to focus on recovery and I slipped a lot.

I was (and still am) extremely aware of how much space I take up and compared myself to those around me. I was (and still am) extremely aware of the fat shaming that happens around me. I hated leaving the house because I knew I would be judged for my size, and that judgment is still a fear I experience today.

I relapsed during 2022 and lost a "significant" amount of weight. I'm using quotes because that's how my therapist described it. I wish I had lost more so it didn't seem significant enough. Then in 2023 I finally found the answer I was looking for - lipedema. I was very grateful to know what was wrong, but it still sucks.

This year I've been working on recovery and it's been fucking difficult. I can't seem to just stay on one side. One day I'm gonna do my best and eat regularly and try to be nice to myself. The next day I may flip and start thinking about weight loss. This time the ED would work, I'll make sure it works. Pat myself on the back if I didn't eat while in the office or got a certain number of steps in. It's exhausting ping ponging back and forth.

My FYP matches that ping pong game. Sometimes I'm not even looking for ED related stuff and it hits me in the face. This might sound weird to some - EDs are very seductive. They can easily be called an addiction. My neuropathways are ready and raring to go down the highway to ED Land. Sometimes I can stop it along the way and sometimes I can't. Some of the posts feel comforting because I know I'm not alone. Some of the posts would be pretty alarming for most people with the imagery and text. I know it's not helpful to look at the pro ana and ED related posts. Just like I can be in awe with how big someone's tummy is, I can also be in awe of various pro ana content.

I know the actual problem is feeling like I don't deserve better. I punish myself for not meeting the high expectations I've collected over the years. Self compassion is still a foreign concept. Logically I understand why it's important to practice, it just seems wrong for some reason.

Again, Anon, I really appreciate you reaching out and voicing concern. It's helpful to hear the same positive and supportive messages from different areas of my life. And I'm sorry you're getting these recommendations. I didn't realize that would happen and now I remember I turned off the option to get recommendations. 😬 Just know I heard you. I'm sure you already know that change is slow, although I'll be more mindful of what I like on here.

Thanks 💙

[aomine-ryo]

Um hello. It’s been a year? Two? I don’t even know. But I’m back (kind of) to writing. It’s been a strange time while I was gone, but I’ve really missed you guys and writing so I wrote up a lil scenario for Aomine (ofc) to get me back in the groove of things. (Definitely not based off of life experiences ha ha…)

Anyways, hope you enjoy and I can’t wait to see what’s been going on in the knb community while I was gone xx

Scenario: your ex, Aomine tries to get back in your life

gender neutral reader

daiki: hey, you awake?

You stared at the text notification from your ex at 2 in the morning. What on earth did he want?

y/n: hi yeah I’m awake. is something wrong?

You haven’t spoken to Aomine in months since the breakup. In fact, even hearing his name would send shudders through every muscle in your body. Thinking back to one of the worst breakups of your life was surely not something you wanted to revisit, especially since you were doing much better for yourself now.

daiki: wanna catch up at the park? I can pick you up from yours.

Just reading that notification made you queasy. There’s no way he just wanted to hang out after ghosting you for months; let alone after breaking up with you out of absolutely nowhere when you thought things were going well.

“You alright y/n?” the hoarse yet comforting voice next to you asked. Your boyfriend looked over at you with a concerned look, the light from his phone screen illuminating his face.

“Uh, yeah I’m fine. Just zoned out I think,” you replied. You considered telling him that Aomine texted, but you didn’t want to make it a big deal because it wasn’t— you didn’t need Aomine in your life. You had all you wanted right next to you.

“Maybe you should get some sleep then, my love,” he suggested, leaning over to place a light kiss on your head, instantly making your queasiness go away.

As much as you wanted to find out what Aomine would possibly say to you and maybe even let out the thoughts you’ve been dying to get out to him for ages, it was more trouble than it was worth. So you just left the message unanswered and went to sleep.

About a week later, you were at Kise’s birthday party. It was unfortunate that you and Aomine still had a lot of mutual friends, but this was a very big house party so the chances of you being forced to talk to him were slim, especially because you knew what he was like at parties like these. You agreed to meet your boyfriend at the party since you both had very hectic days prior to this, but he wasn’t here yet. And a text from him you got about twenty minutes after you arrived would let you know that he wasn’t going to be showing up at all. It wasn’t too big of an issue though, you just chatted with your friends and danced along to the music with everyone else.

Eventually you decided that you wanted to get a bit more to drink, so you excused yourself from the dance floor and headed into the kitchen.

“Oh hey y/n,” a familiar voice said, making your stomach sink instinctively.

You turned around from the drinks table and met eyes with your ex. There was a time in your life where you thought you’d forgotten his face altogether, but looking at him now, all the memories started flooding back in. You used to study his every feature, and it seems like nothing about him has changed.

“Uh hi Dai— Aomine.”

“It’s not a crime for you to call me by my first name, you know,” he said sarcastically, moving over to you to pour a drink for himself.

“Just feels a bit wrong,” you replied shortly.

“What’s wrong is that you completely ghosted me that night. Care to explain?”

“What does it matter to you? I’m sure you found someone else to hookup with instead,” you retorted bluntly. No matter what the situation was, you were always able to speak your mind with him. Maybe because you felt like he was in no place to judge you.

“You thought that was a booty call? No, I genuinely wanted to catch up. It’s been a while and I couldn’t sleep that night so I just figured,” he shrugged. He paused for a second, seemingly to go over his actions. “Actually, on second thought, I see why you’d think that— the timing was a bit weird.”

“I’d say. Anyways, I’m gonna go back to my friends now—“

“No no, why don’t we head outside and talk for a bit. You owe me a catch up after all,” he cut you off, shifting a bit closer to you to stop you from leaving.

“I don’t owe you shit after the way you treated me,” you snapped, feeling a cocktail of emotions about this whole encounter in the first place.

“You know what? That’s fair. I’m sorry. But I do still want to talk— for old times sake,” Aomine negotiated, though it seemed like this confidence was a result of him progressively becoming drunker.

You sighed, “Fine. But I’ll have you know that if you say anything out of pocket I will not hesitate to slap you.”

Aomine nodded in agreement and the two of you headed out into the backyard. There were significantly fewer people out here and the music wasn’t deafening anymore, so it was a rather nice escape granted the person you were with could use some improvement.

“So what did you want to catch up on?” You asked as the two of you sat down on the wicker couch. He was awfully close to you and you could smell the familiar cologne. You didn’t know if you wanted to hug him or punch his face.

“Well actually, I wanted to apologise first for ending things the way I did. I was really immature about it all and I didn’t consider your feelings,” he said. It was weird hearing him say all of this so sincerely. He was always the type to joke about stuff and move on, so seeing him this serious was quite rare.

You narrowed your eyes at him in response, trying to find a tell in his face that would indicate that he was lying. “You’re being weird. Why aren’t you making your stupid jokes?”

“Because I’m serious about this. I do actually regret what I did,” he said, letting out an awkward chuckle when he realised that you were still the same you.

“Well, I’m over it so it’s whatever. I’m dating b/n now and he makes me happy.”

“Oh right yeah. You guys are dating. I forgot about that,” he muttered, the realisation hitting him like a truck.

“Mhm, so I’m sure you understand why us talking isn’t the best idea?” you nodded, taking a big sip of your drink that burned as it went down.

“I mean, I can’t cheat on you if you’re with someone else can I?” he said, a stupid grin on his face. There’s the Daiki you knew.

You tried your best to hold in a laugh and it was like the air got lighter. “I wouldn’t put it past you to find a way to make that happen,” you retorted.

So there you two were, smiling at each other like nothing’s changed; like he wasn’t the cause of the most gut wrenching pain you’ve ever felt— because at the same time, he was also the cause of the biggest smiles you’ve ever had.

“For the record, I’m a grown man now, I’ve learned from my mistakes,” Aomine beamed, head held high.

This time you couldn’t help but laugh. “I find that difficult to believe.”

“I’m serious. I hated the way I made you feel so I vowed to never hurt feelings again— on purpose at least,” he said, words slowly beginning to slur.

“I have to see it to believe it, I’m afraid,” you shrugged, beginning to feel a bit tipsy yourself.

“Then give me another chance. I’ll show you the full Daiki-boyfriend experience— none of that half assed crap I did last time— seriously how’d you fall for that?” he rambled.

“Don’t blame me for something you did. My taste in men is questionable,” you said defensively, the weight of Aomine’s words not registering in you head at all. “Plus you’re too late, I’m with b/n now.”

“You think he’s better than I am?”

“Well he hasn’t cheated so he’s got an up on you there,” you replied sarcastically.

“Okay but I’m taller than him.”

“That makes no difference to me.”

“I’m funnier than him.”

“He has his moments,” you shrugged.

“I’m stronger than him.”

“Not emotionally—“

“I can love you so much more than anyone in this entire world, I’d give you the moon if it meant that I can be the only one to make you smile,” he proclaimed. He seemed serious. The back and forth felt fairly witty until now. Now you were at a loss for words.

“You’re just saying that because you’re drunk,” you replied in what was barely a whisper as you averted your gaze.

“Well they say drunk words are sober thoughts,” he sighed, slowly settling down. “I miss you, y/n.”

“I miss you too Daiki,” you replied almost instantly. Did you just say that? You glared at your drink, calling it all sorts of profanities in your head for making your inhibitions so difficult to control.

Aomine met your gaze with dark blue eyes that for once had a flurry of thoughts and emotions swirling through them. His expression was soft. He didn’t think you’d reply like that. Looking into his eyes like this brought you a comfort you couldn’t even begin to describe; a comfort you haven’t felt in so, so long.

The navy haired boy leaned in and it felt like time froze around you. The familiar scent, the familiar closeness, the familiar way your stomach twisted and turned— you wouldn’t dare to deprive yourself of this feeling you’d been aching for for months. When his lips crashed against yours it felt like happiness again; like you were transported to a world where everything worked out perfectly. As your hand ran through his soft hair and his pulled you closer by your waist, there was nothing that could compare.

Aomine eventually pulled away, but kept his hands on your waist and all you could feel was an ache for more. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, b/n—“

“If we tried again, would you really give it your all?” You cut him off, ignoring the wave of guilt you felt about your boyfriend.

“I’d worship you,” he assured with a soft smile.

You couldn’t help yourself from grinning at this point. Your lips met with his once again, your heart bursting with a warmth that only Aomine can bring.

“You know…” Aomine said once your lips parted.

“What?” You sighed, preparing yourself for the stupid banter you knew was gonna come next.

“You gave me all this shit for cheating, when you’re just as bad as I am,” he gave you a smirk that you just wanted to slap away.

“Shut up, I only gave you shit for it because you went for someone worse than me,” you scoffed.

Aomine looked at you with nothing but love in his eyes. “Fair enough. No one could ever compare.”

[thefirstknife]

Category 1 billion important lore event happening.

So I finished the exotic glaive quest which was super cool and interesting. A lot of stuff about previous Cloud Striders and their lives and how much their heroic images told to people clash with who they really were. Fascinating stuff, well worth the time to do the quest and read.

The lore book is Cloud Strider Legacies and deals with four specific Cloud Striders connected through their knowledge about something in the CloudArk. This something turns out to be a... friendly Vex Mind. Called the Occlusion. The first Cloud Strider discovered it and left it there because it appeared to be useful somehow.

When you finish the quest, there's a huge thank you note from the archivist Quinn and also some data from Occlusion meant for us specifically. The text, part one:

REALLY GOOD. If I'm reading this correctly, this Vex Mind was connected or made from or influenced by Soteria, the Augurmind, which is the AI submind made by Braytech and Ishtar fusing warmind technology and Vex technology. Soteria is responsible for Neomuna existing.

Not sure how much of a connection there is, but either the Vex found Soteria or Soteria found the Vex and somehow merged or influenced them. It resulted in the friendly Vex Mind called Occlusion who is just kinda chilling in the CloudArk. But it also sent a message. About some sort of "paracausal hero." It also says that "it endures." This might be referring to Soteria itself as enduring within Occlusion or something entirely different. This might end up being relevant when we delve more into the Vex again.

The next part:

Also really good. This means that the header is a general description that is attached to the start of the files and that all files could be containing years worth of data. And now for the kicker, the urgent file attached at the top:

I am VIBRATING OUT OF MY SKIN RIGHT NOW. "Saturn VI" or Saturn 6 is another designation for the moon Titan. So like. Titan has to be coming back and also we have something or someone to find there. Something that is an enemy of the Witness and that has to be preserved "if still living."

Going insane right now. This will be all I talk about until this shows up in the story this year. Titan is coming back Titan is coming back Titan is coming back!!!!! No clue when but hoping in Season of the Deep. No clue what this thing might be but whatever it is, it's important and like. I am so normal right now.

[constantlyunlightening]

Happy Fk'n Birthday

Pairing: Prohero Katsuki x Reader

Rating: 18+ Explicit

Content Warnings: Brat/Brat taming themes, penetration, fingering, hair pulling, use of she/her pronouns, use of the word 'girl' in regards to reader, reader has a vagina, reader also gets dragged across the floor, slight dacryphilla, Dom Katsuki, no use/mentions of protection stay safe yall

This fic is unedited and super self-indulgent, because it's my birthday this week and I just want Katsuki being kind of mean to me, so this is a present to myself! And if you enjoy it, Happy Birthday or Happy Unbirthday to you too! Thanks!

All characters in this work are aged 21 years or older. Be clicking the read more on this post, you are agreeing that you are 18 years of age or older and you consent to reading this.

It was a little bit of a tight fit under the bed, but it was completely worth squeezing yourself under if it meant you'd get at least a few seconds of reprieve from the rage of your short tempered boyfriend who was currently yelling in the hallway, heavy boots trodden against wooden floors.

"You're really gonna hide from me, dumbass?!"

Katsukis voice was loud, booming like an explosive and you heard it clear as day even from under the bed and through the closed door of the guest bedroom. He was down the hall somewhere, if the footsteps being a bit dampened were any indicator. Made sense he would check the bathroom in the master bedroom first, since you had told him you had to go to the restroom before you turned tail and ran. A poor excuse to get away before he found your little mistake of a message of a phone.

You had messed up, maybe. Been a little too petulant perhaps. But it was your birthday - you deserved to act however you wanted for the night, right? Especially when you hadn't heard a word from your boyfriend prohero all day before this- no phone call, no text. And now it was past the time he was supposed to be here with still no inidcator of when he was going to be here. Didn't that give you the right to be a little sulky?

He was late for the better part of the hour, and maybe it shouldn't have been that huge of a deal. Accidents happened and all that. But those sort of accidents didn't happen with your stickler Katsuki. He was brash and rough around the edges, but late? Never without reason. And it was rare he was late without contacting yofiif he left you waiting. But 45 minutes had passed since he had promised to be home. Late and without notice, on your birthday! For 45 minutes you laid in your bed with a phone in your hands, staring at his contact and waiting for something. Desperate for attention from your loved one on your special day.

Only to get radio silence that whole time.

You were sulky about it - bratty. And, sure you could of just called him first, solved your own problems. But it wasn't fair that you had to be the one to reach out when he was the one who was late, right? That's what you told yourself anyway. So if you absolutely had to be the one to initiate contact, you had decided there was only one acceptable way to do it - with an attitude.

And a little threat as an added measure.

"You're the worst. I'm going to ask Kirishima to take me out today, instead. :("

You had hit send without second guessing yourself or really thinking of the consequences. You weren't angry enough to actually hurt him, Katsuki was smart enough to know how wrapped around his finger you were - that you'd never go out with another man when you so desperately craved his attention. You were also aware he wouldn't see his best friend as a threat to steal you out from under him. It wouldn't hit any insecurities or hurt him. But it would light a fire under his ass to get home ASAP. And even if it wasn't the sweet, loving sort of birthday attention you had originally been dreaming of, you would still be getting the attention you were craving so badly after being home alone 45 minutes longer than you wanted to be.

The karma that you got for sending that text hit like a bullet train, because in the mere seconds after it left your phone, the front door banged open and you heard your lover calling out your name sweetly. Made it a little hard to believe the voice he was using to call your name out now that he was playing an imprompto game of hide and seek with you.

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep the scared little squeak you were about to make inside of you as his voice was booming outside the door of the guest room. "Always gotta be so damn difficult," he was drawling as the door to the room banged open next and you felt a shudder run up you spine. Had to do your best not to jump because you only had about a single inch of space above you before and if you moved too much you'd be making noise against the underneath of the bedframe. "Come on, birthday girl, your 'worst' boyfriend has something to say to you." The word that he threw back at you was dripping with sarcasm and vemon as he prowled around the room and you watched from the small crack of the bed as his feet stopped infront of the closet and he tugged it open, examining the inside with what you could only assume was that signature scowl of his.

He had certainly read your text message now - which is why he was hunting you down like a blood hound, fierce and threatening - but when he had first got home, he hadn't seen it. He couldn't possibly of had the time! It was only a fraction of a beat from you sending the text to him barging in. And by that point, he was more determined to get to you than he was about whatever notification his phone was trying to give him. So the text went momentarily ignored as he headed straight into the house for you and the second he had found you, he was scooping you up in his arms and kissing you with a sort of passion that should have been illegal - could kill someone with all the heat it provided. It made you so dizzy you had barely heard his clumsy grumble of 'happy birthday.' You had known that even if he was late, it was unrealistic that he forget your birthday or something- he was far too punctual to forget an important date. You also figured he had to of had a reason for it that would make perfect sense but without knowing what that reason was, your annoyance couldn't be eased, which was why you sent that message. But sure as hell, his kiss was helping soothe you over finally and you almost forgot the spring trap that was now loaded on his screen the next time he opened up his phone. You hadn't forgotten he had been late though and you pestered him about it, having to swat at his chest with a little bit of strength that your weak in the knees body could muster at the time to get him to stop his assault of kisses.

And when you made your comment, told him he was late - wouldn't you know it - the bastard actually apologized to you. You knew that the hero had mellowed out a lot since high school - he had grown. But apologizing could still be sometimes hard for him. And while his apology came out as a annoyed little grumble this time, it had come out immediately as his grip tightened on your hips. He had an explanation for it too - because of course, he did. He was already set out explaining it as he dragged you into the living room and pushed you to sit on the couch before going to a nearby drawer to fish a little box out of it. He told you all about how he was rushing to get everything done at his office today - any undone paperwork, scheduling, planning patrols, and fielding what seemed like thousands of questions from his side kicks - because he needed to make sure it was all finished so he could take the next few days off without any interruptions or any reason to try and call him back into the office. The side kicks especially had him busy enough where getting to his phone wasn't an option and by the time he was done giving everyone oh-so-detailed explanations and answers, he noticed the time and figured it was best just to get home as fast as possible because he knew 'your bratty ass' would be all pouts (he was right).

The reason why he was so determined to get everything squared away for those extra days off - ones that you hadn't known about - became clear when he handed the little ribbon clad box to you and upon opening it, you saw two tickets to a weekend getaway for a hot springs you had been gushing over months ago, along with a little planner book and a map of the nearby area. He had tried his absolute best to get everything done on time at work today, but he had figured an extra 45 minutes today would make up for not having any other distractions for your surprise trip. 45 minutes less of attention today so you could have it undivided for the next three days. It made sense now, sure. But it wasn't something you could have planned for when you decided that you were going to be mouthy on your own.

You melted seeing the tickets, and in your bubbling excitement for the trip, you rushed to hug him, humming your thank yous and kissing him. All the jagged edges you had developed over the prior 45 minutes had been smoothed over with the present, but you still couldn't help the one little jab you jokingly gave him against his lips though as you giggled out, 'you still could have texted.'

And your mistake that would cut the mood short came soon after when he retorted with 'you could've too.'

You were blurting without thinking. 'I did-' You had cut off immediately as you remembered just what exactly you had sent. And how you being the birthday girl wasn't going to stop a punishment from happening if it hit Katsuki's ego enough. Oh, and you knew it would when he read the damn thing.

Katsuki hadn't missed the little flare of panic on your face and he was instantly giving you a look of suspicion- one that you weren't going to respond to because you were already busy hopping off the couch and trying to dart away, even when he grabbed the hood of your sweatshirt to keep you there.

You were thankful it was a zip up because you simply let it slide off your body as you hummed "gotta go to the bathroom! Be right back!" You were hollering as you took two stairs at a time upstairs, and as soon as you weren't in his eye sight anymore, you had ran off to the guest room and hid instead.

Which is why you were now under a bed as Katsuki stomped and stormed about.

All that tenderness was gone now as his boots disappeared from sight and you heard him march back to the doorway instead, but your own paranoia had you fighting the urge to sigh in relief. Besides, any relief you had, you knew wouldn't last long. He was going to find you. Simple as that. Katsuki wasn't the type to let things be and that wasn't going to change just because it was you he was dealing with or because it was your birthday. But you were going to take any bit of time you could get to steel yourself for whatever punishment the blonde deemed necessary. Besides, if you were being completely honest with yourself, him hunting you down sent more than just nervousness through your system. It was excitement. The rough treatment was something you had a tendency to crave. After all if you had liked things to be 'soft' all the time, you wouldn't have fallen for someone as ill tempered and loud as Katsuki was in the first place.

You couldn't admit you liked it during the heat of the moment though - that'd be too easy. Too much of an ego boost. You usually only got that brand of agression when you were being bratty enough for it, like today, and in those moments you were far too stubborn to ever tell him how sweet you thought the punishment was while you were getting it... Not until he could force it out of you, that is. So, even with adrenaline pumping in your veins, you stayed in hiding, trying to figure where his footsteps went off to. Deep breaths to stay calm, because while Katsukis quirk had nothing to do with emotions, you were pretty sure this man could smell fear.

Although your breath hitched when you realized that was the loudest thing you could hear - your breath. It was suddenly far too quiet. No more yelling. No more footsteps. Him giving up simply wasn't possible and you knew this sudden silence did not bode well for you.

You were proven right as suddenly an iron grip was clasped around your ankle and this time you didn't bother holding back your noise - you screamed, the sound somehow louder under the bed as you were being dragged out with a smooth, too quick motion. "Found you." Katsuki's crimson eyes were fitting for his bloodlust as they narrowed in on you while you looked over your shoulder at him. He had dragged you out flat on your stomach, pulling the leg he had gripped between his own two.

"Owwwww!' You whined, trying to scramble away and forward but the firm grip that had now crept further up your leg and onto your thigh refused to let up. Infact, he opted to ditch the crouch he had grabbed you from and was now pinning your leg down with the weight of his body, straddling your thigh after he yanked you in fully.

"If you don't want to get dragged against the floor, maybe don't hide under the bed next time, huh?" He scoffed at you, adjusting his weight off your leg just long enough to flip you onto your back like a ragdoll. And then he was settling that weight back down onto your thigh to keep you locked in place, despite your thrashing about. If you struggling against him hurt his crotch at all with the position, he didn't show it. Instead he seemed much too focused on messing with you as he pushed his knee forward and buried his thigh right between yours, pressing it hard against your clothed heat. Hard enough that the next time your body struggled, you were inadvertenly grinding against his leg and racking yourself with a full body shudder.

Your heart was hammering into your throat with the sudden surprise of his, and you barely noticed that his boots were now gone - he must have kicked them off in the hall somewhere so he could engage his little sneak attack, the asshole. Katsuki was the last to ever engage in any kind of stealth - but figures he'd use it just to get a bigger reaction from you. Well it fucking worked, and you gave a loud whine as he was using a hand to grab his phone out of his pocket and shove the screen right in your face - your little tactic of a text displayed on the bright screen. "Care to explain this, huh?"

"You were late!" You chirped, trying to decide if it was worth it to try and wrestle away anymore - though, did you really have a chance of getting away from him? Not at all. All you were doing was rubbing yourself against him, but it did serve to agitate him more. Another scoff and he tossed the phone onto the guest bed so he could glower straight at you without the phone blocking his view. More easy to strike some fear in you when he locked dead on like that, something about the way his eyes narrowed with such ferocious intent, that crimson peeking out behind the shadow of golden fringe. "And I was lonellllyyyy. Be nice!" You demanded, your hands reaching towards him so you could push on his hip a little, trying to give yourself some wiggle room to no avail.

"Nice? I was gonna be, but apparently I'm the worrrssst," he dragged out as his gaze dropped to your feeble attempt at pushing him, just before his eyes were rolling and his hand that once was holding the phone shot out and collared your neck. He didn't squeeze, didn't put pressure, just used it to intimidate you into staying put as he leaned his body forward over yours, his free hand on the ground so he could put most of the weight into that instead of your throat. "Stop fucking squirming so much." His growl was feral, hanging in the air between you as a warning that sent a throb straight to your core and you couldn't help the way your thighs squeezed around his. "Clearly you must have been lonely if you're threatening to run off with shitty hair."

It was always hard in these moments to decide just how much you wanted to press his buttons. You could break down and apologize right now and probably get off light. He'd still be mean, but he'd ease up a little. Or you could always press a little more and see just how mean he could be. Although, did you really want to push it at this exact moment? His palm stretched over the expanse of your throat was nothing short of a terrifying little promise that didn't have you breaking down completely for him yet, but it did have you choosing a safer answer as your voice came out in a breathy little sentence. "It was a joke. I wouldn't-"

"Oh, I know you wouldn't." Another twisted sneer on his visage as his digits gave a light tap against the column of your neck, his leg gave another push up against your body in a way that made you whimper. "You wouldn't dare." This time his voice was hot breath against your lips as he got in real close to you, hovering above your wide eyed face. And as his snarl twisted into a wicked little grin, that's when your nerves really got you. He clearly was up to no good anyway, but that smile of his knotted your stomach. The anxiety in your gut made you gulp, a motion he could feel under his hand and he responded by flexing his fingers and applying just the faintest of pressure to the sides. "Tell me I'm the worst all you want, but you know I'm the fucking best for you. And your masochistic ass likes it when I'm mean, don't you?" He prompted, and maybe it was more nerves about what was to come than anything, but you were instinctively squeaking out a protest. It was your birthday! He couldn't be too mean, right? You could try to protest further but the way your hips buckled against his leg, the now tiny little motions as you offered yourself a bit of pleasure against his legs while he held you down made your arguments sound pathetic.

"Seriously?" His face pulled back without giving you a kiss and as he looked at the way your lips were quivering, another idea popped into his head, one that made his smile split even further. "You want nice? Fine. Open your mouth."

That certainly didn't seem like it could lead to something you could consider particularly kind. The command rattled in your head a second too long without you obliging and you felt another squeeze that you knew would have you feeling light headed if he held on too long. "I said, open your fucking mouth."

Resisting was clearly not going to get you anything you wanted at this point (except for maybe an even more cruel treatment) so this time you listened, pretending as if your response was of your own accord and not a direct consequence of the way his growls made you feel weak, how they made your cunt throb. Your plush lips came apart, hanging wide open for him as you became compliant. The smile disappeared from him, but only long enough for him to create enough saliva in his own mouth for him to spit it directly into yours, letting it land square on your waiting tongue. The the smile was back, wild, as he watched the way the liquid gather, dripping back closer to your throat. And weren't you being such a good girl, keeping your mouth open so he could stare. You werent sure if you were too keen on seeing what would happen if you didn't. Besides, you'd be lying to yourself if the gesture didn't have you getting wet further down below.

"See? I gave you a present. Nice," he declared, all too smug with himself as his hand once again tightened, with the intent to, not harm, but to feel the way your muscles moved underneath his grasp with his next command said a whole octave lower. "Swallow."

You listened to that command too, eyes fluttering up to him through dark lashes as you swallowed hard. The way he let out a low, subtle groan didn't escape you either and you decided now was the time to gain back some brownie points without having to apologize - not yet. You mimicked his hushed tones, but instead of his grumble your words came out in a precious whisper, "Thank you."

All spread out on the hardwood floor, body completely snared down and you were still telling him thank you? Fucking pathetic, and it did the trick, because after he stared down at you for a beat - a small break in that chaotic smile - he was cursing under his breath and climbing off of you, releasing his hold of your body. But if it was a reprieve, it wasn't long. Him not touching you only lasted as long as it took for him to stand up, and then he was manhandling you again, treating your body like a rag doll as he got you up on your feet. One hand at your waist and the other tangled up at the hair in the nape of your neck, he whirled you around and bent you forward over that bed you were cheeky enough to hide under. Your face landed right next to his phone with your message still clear on it. "After that text you're lucky I'm not just going to fuck you on the floor. Better be grateful," he snapped while his grasp in your hair turned into a full on fist full that he used to push your face against the sheets, while he sent his other hand smacking against your ass and causing you to jolt. Birthday spanking or some shit.

"K-Katsuki- b-b-be gentle," you tried to chide him through the muffle of the sheets as he was already tugging your pants and panties down your ankles with all the grace of a ravenous wolf. You were honestly going to be surprised if you didn't find a rip in them later.

"B-b-bbut I'm the worst." There was that word again and this time he was mocking your little stutter too as he gave you another smack on your ass, this time his palm settling on the swell of flesh and pulling at it to reveal your dripping body. Couldn't hide how much your body enjoyed his cruel ways when you were pulled open like that. The way he sucked in his breath at the sight had you craning your neck to try and see what sort of expression was on his face as he took in your body, but he once again wasn't letting you budge. "You missed your chance for me to be gentle. But if you want to be able to cum at all tonight, you better start apologizing, birthday girl."

To cum? Kats was no stranger to holding out orgasms on you but "-not today! You wouldn't."

"Try me." Blunt and to the point, just before he was spitting again, letting it land between your cheeks this time and watching it drip lower and lower. You didn't need the extra aid with the way your wet was already leaking down your thighs, but he did take pride in marking you in any way he could.

You opened your mouth to protest, but before the first syllable could get past your lips, it turn into a moan because Katsuki was stuffing two thick fingers into your cunt and listening to the delicious squelch, his arm having wrapped around the front of one of your thighs so he could curve his fingers up into you. Harder for you to argue with him when he started stretching you out on his fingers with a harsh pace. He was very purposeful in keeping his palm from grinding against your clit for now. You wanted extra attention, then you had some apologizing to do first.

You moaned out his name instead of a sorry with your hands fisting into the blankets and your hips trying to grind against his touch, but he kept his hips pressed against your behind to keep you steady, and if your hips did manage to move too much, he'd simply move his hand with you to keep the pressure how he wanted. "Katsuki!"

"That's not sorry." He tsk'd at you, sounding mock disappointed. The way he was talking was more like some about to give you a lecture as opposed to someone who was trying get you fucked out into submission. His brat was going to get what she deserved, that was for sure. He was hyperfixated on the way each piston of his touch made you writhe in his grasp, the moans and cries and whines escaping those oh-so pouty lips of yours. And when your knees started to buckle more when he hit a certain spongy spot inside of you, that's where he kept his focus watching you build that pleasure up, up, up. Your whole body was burning under him, like his touches were physically setting off little explosions inside of you - flooded every inch of your body with magma and sparks.

Your little whines and mewlings were absolutely captivating but they weren't turning into sorry quick enough for him and he yanked at your hair, using it as leverage to get your face out of the covers enough so he could hear you clearly. "Too proud to apologize? What a shame. I'll split you apart on my cock either way, but if you want me to be nice, better start fucking groveling." It was almost funny how responsive you were to him - maybe not in attitude, but your body? He played it like a finely tuned instrument, every one of his actions designed to make you sing and crumple to his will. Those words, as harsh as they may be, had your sopping pussy clamping down on him like a vice. Real bold of you to be getting so close to climax without giving him what he wanted. And it was torturous the way that his palm started to grind into your folds and inadvertenly applying pressure to your clit just when your body was drawing closer and closer, only for him to completely yank his hand out and away from you at the last minute, leaving you to wail.

"Katsuki - please," it was halfway between a sob and a growl as your head lifted up so you could glare at him over your shoulder and -oh? Were you crying? Cute.

"If you're looking for sympathy-" he began, ravenous gaze ablaze while he let his tongue run over his teeth in a slow flick - your reactions were making him feel like a man starving. "-You'd have better luck with Kirishima." He went to undo his pants as he finished the sentence and the flick of his wrist had your eyes moving down to where that buldge that had been pushing against your ass had been. Made you even more desperate as his cock sprung up when his pants were far enough out of the way, and it hit up against stomach. "Tell me what I want to hear."

"I'm sorrrrrryyyyy," you finally whimpered, still refusing to take your glassy eyes off him while your hips reared back, trying to get the man to fill you up again. So fucking mean to tease you like that, whether you had an attitude or not. "Im really really sorry." That time it was a sniffle and this jerk fucking laughed at you as he was stepping forward again, grabbing your hip in one hand and his cock in the other. He let the length of it slide between your cheeks, teasing there before slipping it lower, past your eagerly awaiting cunt and instead nudging it between your folds and giving slow, shallow thrusts. He could tell that you were sensitive, every nudge of his tip against a clit drawing another gaspy little sound from you, made your thighs tremble against him, urging him to use one of his legs to kick your feet out just a little wider.His body bent over your, caging you to the mattress as his lips found your ear and bit at it. Could hear you better when he was nice and close like this.

"Speak up. What was that?" For once, his voice was the quiet one, taunting and dark against the shell of your ear as he nipped and blew a gust of air. Every shudder, every shiver sent coursing through your spine had another condescending laugh vibrating through his chest and against you back. And in return, you became the loud one.

"Kats, I'm sorry, I'm really really sor-"

It was a scream when he reared his hips back during your pleading, only to slam his cock into you all at once, making you feel like you were going to shatter. No matter how many times you took him, you still felt like he was going to break you in half in the best way possible. He made you want to break into pieces, and right now he was doing just that. Each slam of his hips was calculated. They weren't slow, but they were steady. Each thrust had enough force to make the bed creak. Hard and heavy on the way in, with an easier withdraw, only so he could knock into you again with a sticky slam and get those addictive reactions out of you.

His back had lifted off your chest just enough so he had more of a range of motion, while one arm was keeping him propped up over you, still close enough you could hear him taunt you even over your own needy cries. "Still think I'm the worst?" He challenged, letting his free arm wrap underneath you, trapping your lower stomach and dragging you up onto your tip toes so you could feel the way he squeezed at your body while he wrecked it with his cock.

It made you sob. The earlier orgasm he had torn away from you just aided in making you more sensitive now, and each time you felt every inch of him sheathed inside, it had you seeing stars, your eyes rolling back into your head. You almost didn't answer his question but of course he wasn't going to let that just slide on by and after he growled a warning - 'it's rude to not fucking answer' - you were doing nothing but babbling out whatever he wanted to hear and getting lost in the ecstacy of it all.

"N-n-no!"

"Good." There was a sick sort of delight he got in making you eat your words, watching you cry and slobber, leaving wet marks on the sheets as you answered him so easily now. At least, as easily as you could through your tears and sniffles. His eyes flicked briefly to the phone that was still on the bed but the screen had now gone dark and he couldn't help but goad you on some more. "And who's the best?"

"You! Y-you're the best, you, you, you!"

Whatever you had to say to get him to keep going at this point because if he stopped right now you were going to tear your hair out. He wasn't acting like he was stopping now though. He picked up the pace just a fraction, only so you could focus more on how his hand was beginning to trail between your legs and he was giving direct attention to your clit now, rubbing in small circles as he groaned and reveled in the way your cunt tried to suck the life right out of him.

"Just like that. Better keep screaming my name." And you did. His name left your lips like a chant, like a prayer. Trying to find salvation from the searing heat throbbing through you. Hearing you stroke his ego while practically choking on your words did a number on him. He supposed he could let you cum.... infact....

The added pressure to your sweet spot with his fingers was enough to send you right off the edge. And just like Katsuki your orgasm was was incendiray, fireworks igniting behind your eyes as you screamed out before dropping you head right into the bed. And while he managed to last long enough to ride you out, he was following behind shortly after and painting the inside of your velvet walls with white. Flooding more heat into your already burning up body and drawing another moan up and out of the both of you.

You were so fucking irresistible when you orgasmed that he decided, instead of being mean and not letting you cum, he was going to be extra nice and let you cum a whole lot. He was the best after all, going off the praises you were just shouting for all the neighbors to hear.

And with that thought in mind, he didn't give you much time to recover. Lucky for him he had a hero's stamina because he still had his strength and wits about him. He was pulling out of you, only to pick you up and toss you over his shoulder while you just let out a breathless little squeak, body jerking against him. "K-katsuki?"

You could ask as many questions as you wanted, but he didn't really care. He had already made his mind up on how he wanted to spoil you on your special day. "Well, since you changed your tune and I'm the best and all," he hummed, another spank to your ass leaving it to blossom in a stinging sensation, as he carried you back to your room - bed had more room to roll around in there - "im going to keep this going until you're begging and crying for me to stop. Happy fucking birthday to you."

[wanderlust-in-my-soul]

My Weekly Roundup CW 28

I had a little hiatus on this format, but I am back again. I missed writing about my favorite and not so favorite shows. This week was a real roller coaster! I have watched so much good stuff, but also so much meh stuff.

And yes, this will contain spoilers!

1. Be My Favorite (Ep 8)

Those two are my safe place at the moment. Kawi has understood. He understood that if he wanted to change the future so that no one suffers, he finally had to be honest with himself. It was a process that the drunken subconscious had already completed, only his sober self still struggled a bit to understand that Pisaeng is the one he likes. But we can put that behind us now. He has confessed his feelings to Pisaeng and has now given Pisaeng the chance to court him and I can't wait for that! What I found very successful realized this week was to show how solid Pisaeng is as a person. Even though his life isn't going the way he wants it to (stupid friends and a crush who probably, at this point anyway, doesn't like him in a romantic way) he is still at peace with himself. Our old friend, the little miracle fixer with a few magic tricks up his sleeve, asks him if he should give him a hand and Pisaeng simply replies that he can handle it. I don't even like to imagine what would have happened if he had accepted the help. Pisaeng has nothing to reproach himself for and doesn't regret his previous decisions. Once again, this series simply enchanted me. We all wish from time to time to undo events of the past, but don't think about what impact our decisions and actions would have on the lives of others as well. And Kawi has only thought until the next smile from Paer. But that he as a person was not even ready to shape the future according to his own wishes, he did not understand, which is why he ended up becoming an alcoholic and everyone around him is unhappy. He has had a life in his mind's eye that he thought would make him happy, which it wouldn't because he never got a clue about what would make him truly happy. Until now. And I think it's good that he's allowing himself to be loved and to love.

2. Tokyo in April is... (Ep 5)

I don't know exactly how many times this episode brought tears to my eyes. This series feels so hopeful on one hand and so melancholy on the other. I felt all the emotions along with Ren this week. There was this longing to be close to Kazuma. How he buttoned his shirt and Ren literally melted in this physical closeness. And on the other hand, still the fear of not being good enough for him. When Kazuma offer him the shirt, Ren protests briefly if it's really okay to wear this new and expensive shirt. For Kazuma, it is not a question at all, as he has loved Ren for over ten years. There's nothing but love for Ren, and Ren is worth so much more than a silly shirt. I suffered along with Ren trying to contact Kazuma after he had to go to France, and broke when the connection between them was cut off altogether. And I felt pure joy when the two pairs of shoes were in the doorway and Kazuma sent him the text message with the food and asking when Ren was coming home. I'm very curious to see how they will continue the Sanada story and how extreme they will get.

3. Stay With Me (Ep 5-8)

Whew, this series is killing me. But I love it. You can see parallels to Addicted, and in fact I'm actively trying to avoid comparisons so I don't denigrate the series itself. But we get told so much more than we did in the first adaptation. And it doesn't bother me that Su Yu and Wu Bi aren't as actively bl as Gu Hai and Bai Lou Yin. Maybe it doesn't bother me because I don't know the novel and can't compare the series with it. Anyway, they found out this week that they are stepbrothers and they despise each other again. Well, anyway, that's what they like to tell themselves, but Wu Bi has already stated quite drunkenly that he just can't hate him and doesn't want to hurt him. And Su Yu can no longer pretend that he doesn't miss him either. That's when his own subconscious snapped him out of it, when he thought Wu Bi was sitting in his seat again and a smile crept into Su Yu's face. I think it's just delightful and the acting is really good. Story-wise they do a lot of things right too and the narration feels natural and fluid. I'm absolutely thrilled with the series and it doesn't bother me in the end if we don't get any hot bed scenes. Maybe there's a kiss in it, maybe not. As far as I know, the series is not aired in China, which means they didn't suffer from censorship. The chemistry between Su Yu and Wu Bi is definitely there and great. And honestly, a jealous Wu Bi was already cute and fun to watch. And with scenes like the bicycle rid I am totally satisfied.

4. Minato Shouji Coin Laundry Season 2 (Ep 2)

While I found the first episode very exhausting, I liked the second one much better. It's nice to see what's going on in Minato's head. He can't show it to the outside world how much he loves Shin and as soon as he's with him a bit longer or looks into his face, he runs the risk of giving in to his emotions. Which Shin would have rather less of a problem with. It's frustrating to watch, but with a little more understanding of where Minato is coming from and how much he's suppressed his own feelings over the years, coupled with some internal homophobia, you can understand why he's always trying to control himself and is afraid to let go and live the feelings that burn inside him. The nice thing is that Shin knows who Minato is and appreciates and classifies the little things he does for him. And should Minato eventually get to the point of telling Shin how much he loves him, we'll probably see Shin rapturously slip away into another realm. But yes, with the second episode, the joy of the series has finally returned.

5. La Pluie (Ep 12 - Final)

I'll be honest, the show lost me by the tenth episode. Definitely Patts and Saengtai as a couple. And I also have to confess that I fast-forwarded half of the episode this week. Well, actually, I watched in rapture as Longfom finally told Tien in cotton-candy sweetness that he liked him, and as Tien accepted his confession and landed in his arms overjoyed I couldn't suppress a short squeal. And then came that half-hour montage of Tai looking for Patts. Yes, he had to do some searching, but instead of street impressions and watching Tai ask people if they've seen this vet, I actually would have liked a little more cosiness from Patts and Tai. I could have lived with a short time jump, I don't know, three years into the future. The end came a bit too fast, after all the torture we had to endure. And I don't even want to talk about the ending itself. What kind of shit was that? Should there be a spin-off? Nah, thanks, but I don't need it. Tien was happy for five fucking minutes. Give this boy a break! For me the series ended here:

6. Hidden Agenda (Ep 2)

It's not going to be my highly anticipated series of the week, but I at least liked the second episode a little better than the first. Joke has made it to the debate club and can now help Zo realize his hidden agenda of landing Nita and also tackle his own hidden agenda of courting Zo at the same time. I mean yeah, we know how it's going to turn out. It shouldn't be too much of a surprise at the end, the basic idea of the series is too familiar for that, but still, you can enjoy the ride to the end anyway. The only thing that might be turned off during the ride would be the radio….

7. Low Frequency (Ep 2)

Well, the story itself is interesting. It would just be so nice if the actors didn't just stop acting when they don't have a speaking part. I mean Mon on the one hand looks like he's permanently stoned and like his brain is very empty from time to time. The dialogue just doesn't feel natural, it feels very contrived, which I don't blame the actors for, the director should actually see that and explain to them how to do it better. Well, maybe he thought it was just right…As I said, I like the story and I'll keep watching, but it's amazing how natural the series still feels at 1.5x speed. Well, Thames is a ghost now, whether he's dead or not, I really didn't get Mons' explanation. All I know is that the good guardian spirit gave Mon the important advice not to fall in love with Thames while Thames is standing next to him, and there's never another word said about it, but let's not kid ourselves, Mon is already over the hill with his feelings. We also learn that Thames has been the victim of a plot and that they tried to frame him for the drunk driving accident. No alcohol was detected in the blood, but there was a smell of alcohol at the scene of the accident. Reason enough to cancel him, sure. Why the management doesn't go to the press and say that no blood alcohol was detected, I don't know…But in the end it's not that important. Because this way we can see how Mon will help Thames. How exactly we will see maybe next week.

8. Step By Step (Ep 12 - Final)

The series started out strong. That is, I liked the first episodes and Jeng was and is a feast for the eyes. But my problems with the series started very early. I couldn't really relate to the characters. Pat was whiny and naive. I couldn't understand why Jeng fell in love with him. I don't mean that in a bad way, I just can't see Pat as a potential partner. He's not nearly as mature in my eyes as he should be and as Jeng wants him to be. And Jeng, to me, is a toxic partner. One often thinks of toxic as partners who are either violent whether physically or psychologically or who cheat or manipulate, but Jeng is toxic in a different way. He doesn't leave Pat's growth to himself, but tries to push him into roles he doesn't want to take (yet). But in the process, he also forgets about normal processes and hierarchies. All of this wouldn't have even bothered me all that much if the side story had just been spun on. I still think it's underwhelming that Jaab and Jane were just erased like that. Their story started out so strong and I was really looking forward to it and then Jane breaks up with his boyfriend and Jaab is mad at him? Yeah, that's when it stopped for for me. And after that they were hardly a topic and worst of all was the finale, where they were given a short side scene and you only saw Jaab. It's absolutely unclear what their relationship is. And please, no spin-off! This can't be anything good. In the end, I'm really disappointed in the series and don't miss it. No rewatch potential for me.

9. Dinosaur Love (Ep 4)

To describe this series I would say it is the perfect series for a Sunday evening. After a busy work week and maybe a hectic weekend, it can't get any worse than this series. And for the new week, you can tell yourself it can only get better from here on out. In this fourth episode, Rak has now moved into the dorm, got a roommate who is a real asset to the series with his captivatingly quick manner, Dino has made contact with Rak's father in a creepy way (from where did he et the number?), Dino sang really, really badly, we realized once again that friends should not be trusted in this universe, and Mek is just plain dumb. It was a feast again!

Honorable Mention

His Man Season 2 (Ep 8+9)

I love watching this one so much! There is so much drama going on, but it is not in any cometition with the other series I watch during the week. It is a datin show, so I can't rate it like the full scripted shows. But I love every second of this and I love talking about it with @leonpob! Thank you so much for reaching out! 🤍

Dropped This Week

Yes, there are some shows I am not willing to waist my time with... Not that many, but lately I understood that I can't watch everything!

Be Mine Superstar

After the second episode I just couldn't go on. I don't like the mains, especially Punn. He was just annoying and a big nope for me.

[triviareads]

ARC Review of Marriage and Masti by Nisha Sharma

Rating: 4/5 Heat Level: 3.5/5 Pub Date: August 27th

Premise:

A Twelfth Night-inspired romcom; Veera Mathur drunkenly marries her friend and crush Deepak Datta, and they agree to stay married as platonic friends until they meet their respective career goals.

My review:

Nisha Sharma finished her If Shakespeare Were An Auntie series strong with a friends-to-lovers romance done RIGHT. It has the perfect amount of pining and angst without veering into pathetic territory, and the way Deepak and Veera's romance develops post-marriage feels so natural and QUITE swoony.

Veera's in a bad place after being forced out of her family business by her own dad before they merge with Deepak's company. She's aimless and trying to raise capital with her twin sister for their next venture when she's yacht-wrecked in Goa. Enter Deepak, who was juuuuust dumped by his influencer fiancée via "get-ready-with-me" video (I did laugh; THERE'S your "com" in the romcom) and he rescues Veera, except they have a few too many and wake up married the next morning.

Here's the thing: Veera and Deepak have a history. Their friend groups merged a couple years back and they really hit it off, something we see via flashback text message conversations (similar to Tastes Like Shakkar which I loved), and you really see how Veera developed feelings for Deepak, as well as her hurt when she found out Deepak was engaged to someone else without telling her. Somewhere along the way, probably after his engagement, Deepak realizes he has feelings for Veera too and he takes the opportunity to play the long game after their accidental marriage. I like how neither Deepak nor Veera are in a place where they're like, super tragic about their love being unrequited which is how a lot of friends-to-lovers romances don't end up working for me. They never take it out on the other person, and though Veera especially hesitates even after they have sex and Deepak has kind of made his feelings known, it doesn't feel contrived.

I think Indian weddings are seen both in India and abroad as this enormous to-do (if recent events are any indication) and sort of the be-all-end-all, but there is so much more to a marriage than the wedding. And because Veera and Deepak basically elope, we don't get the wedding and instead, we see all these lovely, meaningful post-marriage Indian (specifically Hindu-Punjabi) traditions like the Aunties blessing their home and the Grihapravesha pooja to welcome Veera to Deepak's family home. And some of these moments are so so romantic— I DIED when Deepak pleats Veera's dupatta and helps her with her baliyan earrings before their wedding reception, and the way they observe, but also subvert the patriarchal tradition of Karva Chauth (where married women fast for their husband's well-being) in such a sweet way.

A couple other things worth noting— there is a lot of boardroom drama; the plot is centered around Deepak getting enough votes to become CEO, and Veera finding closure and moving forward after being shunted out of her family's company by her own dad. And a part of that, interestingly, is going no-contact with a family member, something that is still looked down upon in =South Asian communities, but I appreciate the nuanced way it was handled in this book, and by the end, you can see Veera is 100% valid for doing what she does. I also liked how the story deals with Veera feeling like the odd one out after both her friends coupled off which is very relatable.

The sex:

Deepak has strong "don't worry baby I'll take care of you" energy and I have to say, I'm a fan. It starts off strong with a sleepy sex moment (HOT; I love when two characters are just too exhausted to not give into their impulses), but my favorite scene is definitely before their belated wedding reception, and Veera is feeling anxious so she asks for "stress relief"— Obviously Deepak is more than happy to oblige, and there are so many details I loved, like the chime of her anklets against his back, and the way her lehenga is half off and exposing her partially. Again, Nisha Sharma is doing the most to eroticize Indian clothes and jewelry and I'm HERE for it.

There's also this mild brat/bossy dynamic which kind of peaks when Veera and Deepak go all the way the first time. It was surprising in a good way, and I just wish Nisha had expanded on it some more.

Overall:

Look, it's hard to find South Asian romances with this level of heat (and believe me, I've looked) and Nisha Sharma did a great job of interweaving the romance and culture in a really lovely way that I'd recommend to anyone looking for a romcom-esque romance novel.

Thank you to Avon Books and NetGalley for the advanced copy in exchange for my honest review.

[foster-the-world]

Onward and Upward

Last day of school. Onward to 3rd grade, 2nd grade and 4K. Can't believe she's going to be a "big kid" in the 3rd grade. They grow up so fast, its goes too fast, yada, yada, blah, blah, blah.

They were happy this morning. Certainly no learning will take place today. Bee's teachers is bringing her 9 and 13yo. Bee loves, loves, loves the 13yo. Our flight to my parents house is 8pm tonight. Got an email that we could change for free due to bad weather. It looks like maybe the storm is coming in later. Fingers crossed.

The girls had their awards ceremony last week. Disappointingly 2nd grade only did "you completed 2nd grade" awards for everyone. Lame. 1st grade had individual awards but they were generic - leadership, academic excellence. Rebel won both big awards because she's a teachers pet type. I had to miss because I don't have vacation hours at work. My husband said all of the kids were really excited for each other. I loved, loved Bee's teachers awards last year. Every kid got two very specific awards. They were very, very sweet and captured each kid beautifully. The kids tried to guess who she was talking about and they were 100% correct because the teacher really understood each kid so well. I had tears in my eyes. One of my favorite things is to see my kids being known and loved by other people. I wondered if it would be less so with a kid who has much more challenging behaviors. But nope. Baby boy was very well loved and known this year also. His teacher sent me a long text message about how much she is going to "miss her boy." She also sent a ton of pictures that capture him really well. Bee wrote "You are a great teacher. You treated me like family" in her teacher's card. So sweet. Teachers gifts sent off (flowers + gift cards). Feeling relieved to have all of the end of school year stuff over with.

I'm enjoying Clair Lombardo's books. I got a bunch of new books for baby boy on hold at the library. Found some about personal space. He's more of a crasher into other people so I'm not sure it will translate but let's see. His social skills class finished yesterday. If insurance paid we would keep sending him but I don't think its worth the steep price for what he got out of it. He understands social rules he just doesn't always follow them. They have a summer camp - nice to know for future reference.

The ADHD parent coach has given us some good suggestions we are trying out. We mentioned taking him to stores is difficult. He wants to run around and touch everything. I think it would work better in the suburbs where they have carts. In NYC we try to hold his hand while holding all of our purchases. Stores are smaller so less space for him. Anyway, he suggested we try it when we don't actually need to buy anything. That way we have time to set rules for him (stay near us, don't touch everything) and can leave if he's not following through. We are also going to put him in charge of finding one item. He can then buy/keep the item if he follows all of the rules. He gets three warnings. Normally we only take him when we have to buy something so we can't follow through with the threat of leaving if he doesn't listen. Not sure why we didn't think of this before. Fingers crossed some practice will help him/us out.

His sitter said he is interested in reading the pamphlets/how to's from the ADHD parent coach. Which is appreciated. Once again thankful to have so many people who want my kid to succeed.

His sitter owns a backpack company. Such a cool idea. They are really high quality: https://shiftbackpacks.com/ I'm really hoping they go viral at some point. I suggested he try to get in the NYC private school circuit. Those rich people have money and are all about letting their kids express their emotions.

Bought my husband (and I) tickets to Sturgill Simpson in October for his Birthday. Birthday present done and I get to see a concert = yes, please.