#I AM NOT NORMAL ABOUT THIS EASTER EGG

[enyter]

The FLDSMDFR WAS IN THE INTO THE SPIDER-VERSE MOVIE!!!

[dizzybizz]

would love to see some bronseele! :3c

then may i offer some (very messy) bronseele??

[maraschinotopped]

happy easter. im not christian or anything but i did some egg decorating for it with family and the fact that ive been thinking about naq recently caused the two ideas to collide. have a little scene doodle about n&q + celeste doing egg decorating. nova and starstraw are there in spirit (couldnt fit them in)

bonus doodle

[itspileofgoodthings]

like. Nina listens to Taylor, moderately keeps up with the front-facing aspects of her life, enjoys her quality, has her minor critiques, recognizes her place in the current culture, can set her down and do other things when she wants to, and most importantly knows who Taylor is through her art.

[respectthepetty]

YinWar Easter Eggs?

I think there are some hidden YinWar gems in Jack & Joker. I am probably crazy, but I've watched an unreasonable amount of YinWar content (which I am NOT ashamed of!), so just like those whales and polar bears showing up in Peaceful Property for TayNew and sunflowers showing up in JoongDunk's series, I think YinWar fans are getting little treats like when Joke mentioned the ice cream truck in episode four, I thought of their Laneige Weekend ice cream episode.

And in episode five, Joke revealed he can't drive.

Which seems very familiar!

War can drive, but he usually doesn't. Yin is normally the driver.

War actually didn't have a car until recently.

(I think it's a BMW, but it might be Yin's BMW because 1) Yin does not keep the same car long and 2) the car War is driving now was so fresh in the videos when War used it, it still had the plastic on the seat belts)

But Yin is the expert driver here.

And even for the Jack & Joker worship ceremony, Prom rode his motorbike, Yin showed up in his Tesla, and War arrived as a passenger on a scooter.

When War does drive, he seems to get nervous.

Yin had to talk War through driving this vehicle on a countryside adventure because War kept questioning everything (much like Joke does with Hoy) and Yin even reminded War about shifting gears. The caption on War says "Very Tense" because he was.

Like the man struggles!

People do not feel safe in the vehicle with him.

But in the past year, he has driven more.

And Yin has let him drive his Tesla, which is where the earlier images with War questioning what the buttons meant came from.

But, yeah, War is better as a passenger.

[inky125]

Mary Linton and Jack Marston meeting in 1922

Okay but these are just my headcanons for the very improbable scenario that they end up bumping into each other in the future. / My headcanons for what they would do with their lives after the events of rdr/rdr2

(I'm going to explain them under the cut)

Okay so, starting with Jack:

I want to believe Jack lived a more or less normal life after killing Ross, successfully getting away with this one (1) murder, and having that as a skeleton in his closet. Not finding peace really, so the whole revenge thing doesn't fix his miserable life but he can go on to try to do something with his life. Gunslinging doesn't really have a place anymore here.

When the US joined WWI I know that boy DID NOT join the US Army, he would NEVER join the group that killed his dad, or make the same mistake as him and make a deal with the government. He would rather be jailed for dodging the draft, what will they do, threaten him with what? He has nothing to live for really, so they can't make him. I don't think he cares much if he gets shot (he has a like saying as much in rdr when he duels Ross).

After the whole jail thing he'd go back to a more or less normal life, I'd guess he would have to have a regular job and write whenever he's able (I want to believe that one Easter egg in GTA is canon...it is to me...), but I don't think he'd be able to make a living just from writing.

As for Mary, I always wondered why Mary was dressed the way she was during the credits cut scene in Rdr2. Because I'm guessing it takes place in 1907 (given that most cut scenes appear to happen at the same time more or less than the epilogue). But I wondered why Mary was dressing in black; I mean, during the Victorian era there were very specific mourning traditions, especially for women. Wearing black was pretty much a part of a social thing, you'd publicly mourn. The extension of your mourning would depend on who died and what was your relationship with them.

And here is the thing, Arthur had died 8 years ago by then, we could assume Mary had found out shortly after of his dead because newspapers in the Rdr2 universe love to brag whenever law enforcement/Pinkertons kill renown outlaws. (Even Arthur and Hosea get mentioned years later in some sort of article in 1907 too). And additionally, we know that Mary kept up with how the gang, especially Arthur, was doing through the news on the newspapers. So again, it wouldn't be crazy to assume she knew about Arthur's death back in 1899.

So then, why is she wearing a black dress to visit his grave in 1907?. Black is the color of mourning, but as far as I am aware (and correct me if I'm wrong) it was not required to visit a grave back in the day. So I like to headcanon Mary mourning Arthur like a widow, because widows would have to wear their black weeds for 2 years (there were different periods of mourning, for instance Mary's clothes could be classified under the 'half-mourning' type, meaning there has been at least 6 months since her loved one passed away, meaning she could now wear some jewelry, other colours, ect.

But here is a little extra, Queen Victoria popularized among some women the practice to never abandon their period of half mourning, and especially, keep wearing black the rest of their lives even if they move on, as a sign of love for their dead husband.

Mary and Arthur never got married, but I like to think Mary lived as a widow for him. Continuing with her life as normal, of course, but always having that bittersweet ache in her heart, dressing in black out of respect and love for him and the life they couldn't have. Even if she had wanted to move on from him after she realized they couldn't be together as Arthur wouldn't leave the gang, I think she would have folded if Arthur had gone after her (I mean she did re-initiate contact after they were supposed to never speak again), and I think she was still preparing herself emotionally when she heard the news that Arthur was dead, ironically not moving on from him.

She didn't remarry, Jamie made good money and maintained her, Mary knew the kind of life she didn't want and she could be respectable and old as a widow. Plus marrying someone new at her age would be a titanic task.

I think Mary kept her mother's brooch Arthur returned for her as her reminder of him, given that she returned the picture and the ring. In fact she's wearing it when she visits Arthur's grave in-game!. So I kept that

It just warms my heart to think of the very few people left who knew about the gang finding each other in usual ways. Maybe next time I'd do Sadie or Charles. I'm just a sucker for this kind of things

[ruizpizzaria]

FAZGANGG ROLL OUT ( FNAF MOVIE RAMBLES + EASTER EGGS !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ) PT 1

MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD ! ! ! !

ok first off i cant put into text or words about how i fucking insane i am about this movie so uhm ahahaha im not gonna or i might explode my head off and end up looking like cc's foxy's plush. THIS MOVIE WAS THE MOST LOVINGLY LOVING LOVE LETTER TO THE FANBASE AND I COULD NOT BE MORE NUTS ABOUT IT

SO IM GONNA WRITE ABT ALL THE LIL EASTER EGGS I NOTICED DURING MY WATCH OF THE MOVIE !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ( many more rewatches to come )

UPDATE : PICS ADDED ! ! !

MATPAT AND CORYXKENSHIN CAMEOS ( NO MARKIPLIER D: )

do i even have to say anything about this??

MATPAT SERVING THEORIES SO HARD HE GOT HIRED AS A WAITRESS

CORY BREAKING ANKLES AS AN UBER DRIVER

the theater went ballistic yeah

SPARKY THE DOG CAMEO / FINALLY CANON LOL

MAN OH MAN WHATT I DDID NOT EXPECT THIS ONE.

In the movie we get a full glimpse of a disassembled sparky suit in parts in service -> max gets stuffed inside this suit later on or a suit next to sparky

the diner that matpat works at is also called Sparky's ( lol foreshadowing )

this is still pretty unreal to me.

FNAF BOOK LORE PLAYS A BIG PART IN THE STORY

There's a scene towards the end of the movie where Abby is hiding from foxy and runs to hide behind some arcade games -> reference to the sequence where Foxy is chasing Charlie in the silver eyes (lighting is almost one on one too)

The animatronics realize they're getting manipulated by afton /spring bonnie when Abby shows them the truth through a drawing depicting spring bonnie's true nature -> reference to Carlton showing the dead children that spring bonnie / afton is their enemy through drawing spring bonnie as their killer

CARL THE CUPCAKE

i just find it kinda funny that the guy eaten alive by cupcake was named carl seeing as how carl was cupcake's fanon name

also he can defy gravity too ig

THE SHIRT CARL ( ONE OF THE GOONS WHO CAME TO TRASH THE PLACE ) IS WEARING HAS A PRINT OF FNAF 6'S DRIVING MINI GAME

Chica's magic rainbow from FNAF world gets its own branded ice cream parlor chain :

EVERYTHING ABOUT ABBY HANGING OUT WITH THE FAZGANG.

Spaghetti and Pizza analogy

this one is a bit more obvious but I like how its used as away to illustrate how mike had to choose giving up abby or cc ( i refuse to call him garrett he is either evan or chris. )

Hospitalized Vanessa Theory

Now that Vanessa is hospitalized could she be filling the roles of cc or mike in fnaf 4 ( mainly cuz of hospital hallucinations )-> shes traumatized by the animatronics and could hallucinate back to her days in the hospital ( if she wakes up or if its a dream sequence or something not sure ) ; also could also work since she's afton's daughter

LIVING TOMBSTONE END CREDITS LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!

point where i died in the theater and ascended

so yeah yk id say the trap was sprung successfully

I am the most normal about this movie

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hi Raven!! Easter eggs in case you didn’t notice but Rook’s bedroom in his dream on the Neige side. It has many vector redraws over Epel poses! Credit to @/MoonlightEquin1 and @/lovesfirstkiss_ on Twitter for noticing this.

I think I found the Twitter posts you're talking about (here and here for those who are interested)! It looks like Epel’s Union Jacket, Suitor Suit, Birthday Boy, and School Uniform initial artworks were used as a basis for some of the Neige paper goods shown. (nxebwbkxnskw THE SUITOR SUIT BEING USED AGAIN… First it was for “Epel”, aka actually young Marja/this grandma, now for Neige…)

This just lends credence to Vil’s belief that Epel’s cuteness could rival Neige’s… thus making Epel Vil’s secret weapon and “poison apple” to defeat Neige in book 5. Maybe Neige copies many of Epel’s poses because Rook also sees the similarities between them (this is, after all, his dream). It’s great attention to detail on the part of the devs!! And, of course, very good eye to the fans who spotted this.

OH

You know what I caught while looking around Rook’s rook for any other potential Epel card matches??? Well, besides the fact that RSA!Vil STILL wears friggin tall heels as part of his uniform?? 😭

Enhance…

IS THAT.

IS THAT CHE’NYA IN THE TOP LEFTHAND CORNER… The cat ears and the colors are too similar NOT to be???? Rook knows who Che’nya is???? Somehow??? 😭

I get why there would be photos of Neige, a celebrity, but why photos of Che’nya…Unless… Rook acquired these pictures personally 💀 Like, he snuck on over to RSA campus and hung out in the bushes taking shots of Neige AND his classmates… Or he ripped it out of the RSA yearbook that he somehow got his hands on??? (The creepy part isn’t even that Rook is the type of character to do this, the creepy part is that this is behavior that’s “normalized” for Rook so we don’t even bat an eye at it when he’s involved.)

Also?? At first I thought the others in this photo card were the Dwarves (since, excluding Che’nya and Neige, there are 7 of them), but the hair colors are nowhere near the same. But they obviously must be RSA students because of the uniforms they wear. (Is one of them Vil?) And there seems to be a… redhead…

A… redhead… prince(ss)????

RIELLE???????? HONEY… IS THAT YOU???????? Is this foreshadowing for us meeting Rielle in the Octavinelle dreams and/or in the second huge arc of the main story????? here's exactly seven of them if you ignore Che'nya and Neige, meaning this count of RSA students would be perfect for another seven books of main story... aM I REAdiNG tOO MYCh JntO TH!S?????????

I didn’t expect to fall down this rabbit hole from an Epel and Neige centered ask but here we are, I guess 🤯

[makeyoumine69]

Last Memory (Memory Reboot x5)

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Patrick Bateman x gn!Reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Some time after Patrick and Evelyn got married, Bateman thought he could live a normal life and finally forget about you, but he didn't realize that he was already starting to lose his grip on reality, slowly but surely.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: NSFW, Patrick's POV, angst, lots of sex, canon violence, blood, near-death experiences, dark themes, obsession, strong hallucinations, blowjobs, pussy eating, rough vaginal and anal sex, cum eating, tainted love vibes, drug use, depressing thoughts and intentions, blackout and fainting, rough choking, spanking, masturbation, cheating, dirty talk and slurs, pet names, degradation kink, self-harm and panic attacks implied, unstable Patrick is a warning himself, I might have forgotten something because this chapter is long af, so forgive me if I really did.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒: 15k

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐑𝐄𝐂: VØJ, Narvent—Last Memory; Timecop1983—Back to You

ᴀ/ɴ: Hello dear readers, I'm sorry to keep you waiting, but I just wanted to make this chapter as good as possible! After several rewrites, I think I am finally happy with the result. I'm very sad that Memory Reboot will end in the next update, but I hope you enjoy this angsty story! Also, there are some easter eggs in this chapter, so be on the lookout! And please be aware that there is a lot of trigger material in this chapter, so be careful! Thank you so much for sticking with me, you are all incredible!

𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒: [MASTERLIST]; [SERIES MASTERLIST]

An annoying, sonorous alarm sound woke me up and I had to hit it with my fist, almost breaking it, to make it fucking stop. Yawning, I sat on the bed and realized that I was still in Evelyn's apartment; these cream-colored sheets made me want to cry from how much I hate them, but instead of ripping them off, I stretched my arms. The tension in my body, coursing from my shoulders down to my groin, was an eloquent sign that I needed release. With a loud groan, I stood up and briefly grabbed my dick through my white underwear, which seemed to have been hard all night since that bitch Evelyn, who was my wife by the way, refused to have sex again. It was the second time in a row. Sliding my messy hair back, I walked into the living room and noticed that Evelyn had already left. I sighed with relief that I didn't have to see her irritated face since I was already on the verge of going nuts.    

In the kitchen, I took the bottle of Evian from the fridge and made a long gulp before checking the time on my Rolex, frowning right away as I remembered Evelyn yapping about me always keeping them on, even when I went to bed. 

God, why can't women have their mouths shut sometimes?

With a wry grin, I placed the bottle on the counter and paused for a moment to check my reflection in the gleaming metal door of the refrigerator. Today’s day in the office was going to be tough as hell since I had a fuck ton of stupid meetings I tried to convince Jean to cancel, but she reassured me that it would be too rude to ignore my business partners for too long. Hmmph…

A bit later, when I was almost finishing my work out, I suddenly realized that it had already been two months since me and Evelyn got married. And no, I couldn’t really believe this since all days were like one long day—a day that seemed to never end. Huffing, I did another push-up, the 50th in a row, feeling not tired at all. Small beads of sweat rolled down my tensed forehead and I could care less about brushing them off as I was so focused on the pleasant feeling of my muscles flexing each time my chest almost touched the mat. Normally, sports could easily help me to distract myself, to let off steam, to feel refreshed and clear-headed, but now I was more detached from reality than ever before. And it seemed that no amount of exercise could help. Also, my condition was aggravated by the lack of sex, proper sex. When my muscles finally began to hurt, I stopped doing everything and just lay on the mat, panting and looking at the ceiling above. Then, I slowly looked down at my groin—still hard as rock–before my hand involuntarily grabbed it, eliciting a small gasp to fall from my wet lips. Fuck, I was about to explode from my own touch. That was not normal at all. It was pathetic.

Frustrated, I was certain that even a quick release in the shower wouldn’t soothe my mounting tension. It never did, considering that over the past few days I couldn’t even sleep, and what was worse was that even violence couldn’t bring me this much-needed relief. As I made my way to the bathroom, I was thinking, literally drowning in my obsessive thoughts.

I need more…I really need to get this done. I REALLY NEED IT! I NEED THEM!

 I bit my lip and turned on the shower, then got rid of my white boxers, stepped out of them, and strided on the cold marble. The water washed over me like a tidal wave. I closed my eyes and let the steam splash along my flushed face. My skin felt like it was on fire, as if I were about to crash into the sun. I couldn't find any way to relax. I felt desperate and angry. I was pretty mad, too. But would killing you have helped me find peace? 

If I knew you were gone, if no one could ever be with you the way I was, would that be what I wanted?

 I let out a deep, exhausted sigh and pressed my forehead against the wet tiles, ignoring the way the tip of my cock brushed against the wall, sending tingles into my very core. The images of you covered in blood, trapped beneath me, almost sent me over the edge. I didn't let myself think about it for too long, though, because I knew it would lead to addiction. As if I weren't already hooked. My breathing got a little uneven, and I started scratching at the white tiles as I got hit by a sudden, intense rush of memories. I remembered your voice, your moans, and the way you screamed my name. I wanted to ruin you, to make you bleed, to tear you apart and leave you just like you left me. The pain you caused was so deep, it lingered. I was so caught up in the moment that I didn't realize what I was doing. I let my hand rest on my throbbing length while the fingers of my other hand slid down my lower back, right between my legs. The moment I touched my tensed asshole, I moaned. I was loud and needy. I was embarrassed but also aroused. I thrust into my hand, slowly at first but gradually losing control, while my digit slid inside my ass completely with ease. I couldn't hold back my whimpers as I was about to cum. My vision was filled with blood, intensifying my fantasies about you. With my eyes closed, I was on the brink of losing it when I suddenly heard some commotion coming from behind the bathroom door. 

"Damn!" I groaned and hit the wall in front of me, my dick pulsing even after I let go of it.

"Honey," Evelyn's voice echoed through the bathroom. I turned to see her casually walking to the shower, her blue eyes curiously examining my bare frame as if she was seeing me like this for the first time. "You didn't close the door."

Fuck, I really didn't.

Scrunching my nose, I pushed my wet hair back and spun around completely, giving her the full view of my nakedness. "I thought I'd leave before you got back..." my reply was brash and sharp. "...at least I hoped so."

Evelyn didn't react, she just stood in front of the shower, blinking and staring at me—at the way the water flowed down my sculpted body, to be exact—and something told me that just watching wasn't going to be enough for her.

"So... are you just going to stay and watch?" I said aloud before opening the glass door and letting some steam out of the shower. 

The blonde grinned broadly but remained motionless. "You're not trying to bait me like that, are you?" 

Jesus Christ, this woman is really driving me crazy.

Irritated, still struggling with my boner, I wanted to drag her into the shower without even asking and make her freshly bought Chanel suit so fucking shitty that she would definitely throw a tantrum, but I managed to control myself.

Leaning against the wet glass, I watched her unclasp her jewels, gems that shone in the dim bathroom light, my hands instinctively slipping down to my aching cock as I was now the one watching Evelyn take off her jacket, the delicate shape of her collarbones forcing me to admit that my wife was, after all, absolutely gorgeous and even though I didn't feel anything... sublime towards her, I couldn't deny that every time she did things like that, she stirred up a burning desire in me.

"What if I do?" My voice dropped lower from the tension building at the base of my spine. "You'll find another stupid excuse to deny me, like you always do?" I gave myself a slow stroke, biting my lips and quickly licking them as Evelyn removed her blouse and placed her leg on the edge of the tub, pulling up her skirt so I could see her black stockings. "Why didn't you go for Bryce when you had the chance?"

My body stopped listening to me as I said these words, as if I was hypnotized, but I felt no remorse, only a pang of conscience for how pathetic I probably was right now, standing in the shower jacking off to the woman I didn't really love, who was probably having an affair with my best friend all this time as a bonus.

"And you're bringing up Bryce again," Evelyn murmured, grinning like a vixen, her hands working meticulously to remove her stockings, stopping only when she was done with her expensive clothes, leaving herself only in a white Vanity Fair lingerie I'd bought her a few days ago to stop her hysteria. "Why is this only bothering you now...after we got married?"

"W-what?" I almost choked on my breath, my hand around my cock stalled in its momentum. "What are you talking about? It...it never bothered me."

Still, her words struck a chord within me and now I was even more angry with myself than before. Evelyn obviously thought she was in control of this situation—her extra confident demeanor, the way she moved and talked, even her blue eyes looked different now, as a wicked spark glinted in them. 

For a fleeting moment, I just stood there, trying to lose myself in the warm streams of water, not really knowing what to say, and a suffocating panic crept into my chest, but then, as I found myself gripping the glass shower door with all the force I could muster so that it wouldn't shatter, my vision blurred for a second before I noticed Evelyn's slender body pressed against the glass, her small but pretty breasts looking so damn inviting that I couldn't hold back a groan.

"What were you saying?" She asked indifferently, the water gurgling mixing with her voice inside my head pulling me into a trance.

"Nothing," I replied, leaning forward and pressing myself against the glass door from the opposite side, my dick brushing against it ever so slightly, but even this mere contact made me close my eyes for a dear moment. "I said nothing..." my eyes darkened, pupils dilated. "Now...get in...will you?" I grinned and tilted my head, watching my wife flutter her thick eyelashes like bird wings.

Evelyn didn't answer, standing still with her body pressed against the shower door, and I couldn't hold back anymore—I just dragged her in, not caring about her expensive lingerie getting soggy—I'd buy her a new one if I had to. With a surprised squeal, she then giggled as the streams of water ran down her fit body, her elegant fingers stroking my cheek for a fleeting moment before I picked her up and turned her around to press her against the cool marble wall. Evelyn's gasp echoed through the bathroom, sending a shiver down my spine, as if I were really into her, into all of this, and if that was not me imagining you in her place, if that was not making me want to be somewhere else right now.

Somewhere where nobody could find me. Us. 

"Patrick," Evelyn's voice pulled me out of my thoughts. "Can you hear me? The water's too hot..."

"Too hot?" I repeated, finding her statement so funny for no reason, but I cooled the water with my free hand anyway, still holding Evelyn in my arms as if she weighed nothing. "I'd say something like..."

"It's not the water that's making it hot, it's me," she cut me off, her face turning into a serious grimace, and for a second I felt like I was going to lose my shit. Is she making fun of me? "I've heard that enough, honey."

Frowning at that fucking nickname I really hated, I noticed the way she was pressing on my shoulders, implying that she wanted me to get her down on the floor, and I did—I didn't want to think, I didn't want to guess what was going through her mind—I just wanted to follow. To feel at least something beyond hatred and disgust. But I guess that was too much to ask.

Without saying a word, I knelt before Evelyn, leveled myself with her perfectly waxed pubic area, her breath hitching as I planted a soft kiss on her mound before tracing a finger along her wet from the water folds through the absolutely drenched fabric of her panties, which were now clinging to her like a second skin. I looked up at her with a mischievous grin, the water hitting my eyes painfully, but I held on to watch that raw need emanating from her body—savoring it like a vampire thirsty for blood.

My actions were smooth, calculated. When I got rid of her damp lingerie, I let the wet clothes that were now spread out on the shower floor fall to the ground, forgotten, and I was sure that Evelyn would have to throw them in a garbage can when we were done. The involuntary arch of her back, her hips brushing against my face and the moan she let out when the tip of my tongue flicked around her feverish clit, that was something I could live with. 

Letting Evelyn grind against my face, I began to eat her pussy more feverishly, my one hand holding her open while another was wrapped tightly around my hard dick as I jerked off in sync with my oral ministrations. It was actually a turn-on, but only because I managed to block out all thoughts of you... In another situation they would have helped me to orgasm, but now... now they would only destroy everything. 

I groaned when Evelyn pulled my hair harder than I liked, but I didn't want to punish her for it, not now, because I was still going to fuck her and this would be a perfect moment to show her how I felt and what I really needed. But then again, all of this made me feel pathetic in some odd, twisted way, that I was a starved dog who had to struggle to find barely any food to survive—what was my life—I was not living, I was surviving.

"Yes...yes...just like that," Evelen keened again as I tongue fucked her flushed cunt. "Keep...g-going..."

I could feel that she was so close to collapsing, it was kind of amusing how fast I could always make her cum, if only she knew that I always did it for myself, not for her, but for me. "Cum around my face," I spat out, my overalls buzzing from the tensind at the base of my cock; these little tingles were going to make me explode, but I didn't hesitate, increasing the pace of my own stroking. "Let it go. Now!"

My voice was muffled, gruff, I was sure its vibration only added to the overwhelming rush of bliss that was about to descend upon my wife as her legs began to tremble, her thigh on my shoulder jerking as I dipped my tongue inside her while my thumb caressed her oversensitive bud. And then she climaxed, convulsing and barely holding herself from screaming, I watched as she silenced herself with her palm, her eyes closed tightly, I reveled in such reactions, I always had, so I didn't stop as I wanted to prolong this scene—a scene full of fake emotions and this was just an echo of something I had experienced and lost— because if I stopped, I would fucking die.

Maybe this is what I always needed? Just to...stop existing?

Panting, I finally moved away from her hot, now swollen cleft, my own heart pounding so fast, but I couldn't move, I just stayed on my knees, the water falling on me like a heavy rain from that day I followed you to the airport and watched the plane take you away from me. For the second fucking time in a row.

Meanwhile, Evelyn was slowly coming down from her high, her chest heaving and falling so fast that for a moment I thought she was going to pass out, but then she turned and leaned against the wall, swaying her hips in the most inviting gesture I'd ever seen her make.

"Shit," I murmured almost imperceptibly, my basic instincts finally taking over. "You want me to fuck you?"

Gasping, she nodded and craned her neck to look back at me, I quickly stood and hugged her from behind, my lips tracing a short trail of kisses along her shoulder as I aligned myself with her entrance, she was so aroused and ready for me that I felt no resistance as I pushed myself into her malleable body. Just a few fleeting seconds for both of us to adjust before my pace picked up, the sound of wet flesh against flesh filling the room, and I pressed closer to Evelyn, her high-pitched moans fading in my delusions as I gave in—the images of you were so clear in my mind now that I clenched my teeth to hold back my own moans—I was weak and I hated myself for it.

Luckily Evelyn was on the pill so I didn't have to worry about a sudden pregnancy, but there was still some fear I tried desperately to ignore, my thrusts became ragged, raw and deep, I was about to spill myself inside her, both palms cupping her breasts, rubbing soft mounds, but then I squeezed them quite roughly and Evelyn's loud whimper was a sheer testament to my ferocity. Feeling my whole system shatter, I managed to stop myself from sinking my teeth into her neck as my vision turned white as I reached my peak with your name on my lips, though I never let myself say it out loud.

A little later that morning, as I dressed in my freshly tailored dark charcoal flannel double-breasted suit with wide white pinstripes, the sun was high in the zenith and its rays bathed Evelyn's bedroom in a soft golden hue. This brief encounter of intimacy with my wife gave me some hope that maybe there was still a chance to live a normal life, the one my mother and father always wanted for me, the American dream family they always told me about, but my parents never really tried to understand me, but since Sean chose a different path in life, not the RIGHT one, the legacy of my family fell on my shoulders.

Trapped in my thoughts, I didn't even notice the phone ringing somewhere next to me, I turned around to see a small black phone on the nightstand. At first I decided to ignore it, since I didn't really care about Evelyn's business, I didn't care at all, but this time something inside of me started to sting.

Who can call her at this hour?

With a soft click of my tongue, I finished adjusting my cufflinks and looked back at the buzzing phone, deciding to pick it up and find out who the hell was calling my wife. "Yes? Who's this?"

"Hello, Patrick," your voice crawled into my brain like a parasite, I swallowed, my skin covered in goosebumps and I sweated almost instantly. "How's it going? Don't you think it's a bit pathetic to think of me when you're banging your lovely wife?"

"You?" Was the only thing I managed to say. "Where did you get this number?"

I heard you laughing as if you were right next to me. "Tim gave it to me," you replied with blatant audacity. "Uh...you're not happy to hear me? That's a shame because I thought you missed me."

"Listen," I spat into the phone, gripping it so tightly that it was about to break in a half in my hand. "I don't know who you think you are...but believe me when I say I DON'T CARE ABOUT YOU AND YOUR FUCKING LIFE! DO YOU HEAR ME?!"

"Patrick? Who are you talking to?" I turned to see Evelyn standing in the doorway, her blue eyes full of concern.

Caught red-handed, I took the phone away from my ear and chuckled. "It's just...a random call...nothing serious." When I said that, her face became even more worried. "Is something wrong, darling?"

Evelyn blinked several times before answering. "I definitely remember turning off the phone before I went to sleep...I always do..."

Her words hung in the air for some time before I could actually continue, and when I finally did, I tugged at my collar from the sudden lack of oxygen in my lungs.

What the fuck?

Under Evelyn's attentive gaze, I looked up at the receiver as if seeing it for the first time in my life, then I pressed it to my ear again and all I heard was silence—a deafening, eerie silence—even a single beep could not be discerned. My throat tightened uncomfortably and I felt like throwing up from the tight knot in my stomach, for I'd never felt such fear before.

"Patrick...are you okay?" The blonde woman asked, not daring to come closer. "Are you taking the medicine your psychiatrist prescribed you..."

"Evelyn!"

"No, I'm serious! This isn't funny Patrick, I'm scared," she suddenly confessed and I swore I couldn't remember seeing her so worried. "You need help...why don't you let people help you?"

With that Evelyn stormed out of the bedroom and I was sure she was crying. Damn women, never give you a chance to explain yourself. I cursed before slamming the phone down on its station with a thud, probably shattering the plastic, but who fucking cared? All they cared about was whether I was taking those fucking pills, but no one really cared about...me. 

It took me some time to calm down and finally go to work. I didn't talk to Evelyn before I left, as it was pointless in her current state. As soon as I was outside, I breathed in the fresh air and watched the passers-by walking here and there without even noticing each other, this scene I saw every day, I picked out my Walkman like in a slow motion movie, put the headphones on my head and then attached it to my belt, the next moment I heard Madonna's deep voice surging through my head.

The taxi ride to the Pierce & Pierce office took longer than usual because of the heavy traffic. When I finally entered the high-rise building, I didn't take off my headphones because I didn't really want to talk to anyone, I just walked through the long corridors like a ghost without a name. It was really interesting that I never really thought about my fucking coworkers constantly messing up my name—they didn't know who I was even though we met every week—but you—you remembered it so clearly, there wasn't a single day that you mistook me for someone else. Jean greeted me as always with her sweet smile. Today she wore a dress and high heels. I smiled at such details and pulled up my headphones so I could hear her. 

"Did I miss anything?" I asked casually, thinking I was late as I often was.

Brushing her blonde hair, my secretary rose from her seat, clutching her favorite notebook to her chest. "Timothy Bryce called to ask about lunch."

My eyebrows raised in skepticism at her words.

Bryce. Wants to see me after not talking to me for almost a week. Interesting.

"Uh, right, but I thought I had a pretty busy schedule today?" I asked nonchalantly.

"Well, yeah," she quickly opened her notebook and then raised her bright eyes to me. "But you have a little window..."

At some point, Jean's voice became as much white noise as Madonna's song, the lyrics of which slipped away from me like a leaf in the wind. The thought of Tim finally revealing that he and Evelyn were having an affair behind my back, as if they really thought I could be stupid enough not to notice, brought me a strange sense of relief. It was like an itchy splinter in your finger that you couldn't bring yourself to pull out, but you knew that the longer it stayed there, the worse it would get.

"Okay, Jean," I heaved abruptly. "Be a doll and make a rez in a good place. Then call Bryce back."

Jean was noticeably confused, but I was too overwhelmed with my own chaotic thoughts that there was no room for anything else. With a devoted nod, she returned to her seat and I opened the door to my office, where everything was the same, all things in the places I had left them. At least there seemed to be something constant in my life.

The rustling of chatter and the clinking of silverware against plates mingled in a wild cacophony of sounds I was quite familiar with—I was born in the middle of this madness, to say the least, the lush life of people like me was something you couldn't really avoid, though I never tried to avoid it, I enjoyed every little benefit I got from being rich. 

So now I was sitting in Delmonico's lash interior, holding a glass of J&B on rocks in one hand and a cigar in the other. I waited for Bryce to come and soon I noticed his approaching figure, his black hair slicked back as usual, and I even chuckled at how fucking punctilious this man always was. Tim ordered a glass of Russian vodka and some seafood appetizers. After a short casual conversation we both fell silent and just when I was expecting him to tell me the reason why he wanted to see me, he suddenly picked up a shiny cardholder and put it on the table, then took out a pack of cigarettes to grab one.

"New cardholder?" I asked, definitely remembering that Bryce used to have a different one. "Looks...nice."

"It's platinum," Timothy commented before lighting his cigarette, his gray eyes scanning the room before focusing on me. "It's a gift...from our mutual friend."

Friend?

I almost bit the inside of my cheek to the point of bleeding. "Really?"

Bryce let out a puff of smoke and pointed to my empty glass. "I heard you quit drinking," he grinned and dabbed the ash from his cigarette. "That you're on... some medication."

"I wonder who told you that," my jaw almost snapped in anger, I had to claw at my knee to regain some composure. "And yes, I had to take medication for a while...but I'm on a break now." I hoped he could tell by the tone of my voice that I wasn't going to continue this conversation. "Who else would know how it works better than you since you went through rehab. Am I right, Bryce?"

I knew how much he hated talking about it, so his recent bravado faded like a cloud of smoke, but his cheeky grin never left his face.

"I get it, I get it," he laughed softly before sipping his drink. "You definitely got off on the wrong foot today, but it's okay," the man swirled his glass in his hand, watching the ice cubes clink against its walls. "I just wanted to tell you that... you're definitely missing something. Or maybe I should say—someone."

Narrowing my eyes, I tilted my head to the side. "Maybe you can tell me something more...specific, or are we going to play that crappy guessing game?"

Bryce shifted in his seat and wanted to say something, but he was interrupted by two familiar voices—Craig and David.

Shit, why did those two idiots have to come right now?

The moment was ruined, and so was I.

"Wow, I can't believe my eyes! See, I told you they had a date," McDermott let out a loud chuckle, my fists clenched, and if we were somewhere else, preferably alone, I'd fucking break my glass against his smug face. "I called Jean and she said you two were having lunch together. Isn't that sweet?"

"Oh, fuck you, McDermott!" Bryce retorted, but he wasn't really angry. "Fuck you and your cheap jokes. Your sense of humor is as flat as the ass of that chick you met in the Tunnel yesterday. Besides, how was she?"

The Tunnel, that damn club that started all this shit. I closed my eyes and tried to shake off the unwelcome memories of that day, but all I wanted to do was leave this place. Bryce's words became a breaking point, they helped a cup of weights to turn to another side without him even knowing it. Slowly I rose from the table, ignoring any questions, dismissing them with a clumsy gesture.

This evening was destined to be spent in the Tunnel after everything that happened today. I didn't tell anyone about my spontaneous venture to find some escape in the nightclub full of drug-addicted chicks and yuppies like me. My mind was racing with the idea of doing some coke, all I had to do was find the dealer that Bryce and I always hang out with and get a gram. A very simple plan to forget about all the shit that was going on in my life for a while.

Desperate times call for desperate measures, they say.

As I strolled across the dance floor, I noticed the bar was pretty empty, so I decided to have a drink before finding the dealer, as the glass of whiskey I had at lunch was not enough. The bartender greeted me with a polite smile as he cleaned the bar. 

"Good evening, sir," the man took a shiny glass and set it in front of me. "What would you like to drink?"

"A J&B straight and a Corona." I replied, taking a seat and fumbling for my wallet.

The bartender nodded and went to get my drinks. While I waited, I looked around when I noticed the only person sitting at the bar—it turned out to be a redheaded girl, a very good looking one—I hummed to myself, absolutely sure that such a girl was definitely not alone tonight. 

"Your drinks, sir." The bartender placed an open bottle of Corona next to my glass, now filled with my favorite whiskey.

"Thank you." I handed him a few bills before he could even tell me how much I had to pay. 

The young man babbled something incoherent that I couldn't even make out, but after I gave him a dead stare, he just took the money and finally left me alone. Annoyed, I checked the time on my Rolex before grabbing a bottle of Corona to take a sip, but I was interrupted again. This time not by the bartender.

"Hey," a soft female voice hung over my ear, sending a massive wave of excitement through me. I turned to see that the chick from the other end of the bar was now standing so close to me that I could smell her flowery perfume. "Are you here alone?"

I wish I could say that, but my thoughts of you were always here, with me, but instead of saying that bullshit, I nodded and grinned, checking her body in the most humiliating way, thinking it would scare her away from me, but the gleam in her green eyes only increased after my move.

God, she doesn't know what she's asking for.

"Yeah, you could say that." I smiled again as she sat down next to me. "What about you?"

The girl leaned against the bar, her ginger hair cascading down her elegant shoulders, and for a moment I couldn't take my eyes off her. "I wasn't supposed to be alone tonight, but...you know how it is...most men are total jerks."

I could barely keep myself from bursting out laughing. "Did someone offend you?" She played with the gold bracelet on her wrist and nodded shyly, a move I suddenly found very sexy. "Do you mind if I get you a drink?"

"First, tell me your name," she muttered in a challenging way—a blatant provocation that I ate like a starved man. "Then I'll think about it."

This girl is so sweet, I bet her insides are the same.

At first I wanted to use a fake name, like I always did, but then I just gave her my real name, because in the end it would make no difference. "Patrick....Patrick Bateman," I finally took a sip of Corona and savored the taste. "And you?"

"Nicole," the girl said, still fiddling with her jewelry. "But I used to have a lot of different names."

"I like this one," I chuckled, smiling charmingly. "It suits a girl like you."

"A girl like me?"

"A beautiful girl...very beautiful I must say." My voice was deep and soft like silk, I noticed the way she straightened her shoulders, slowly but gradually relaxing. 

"You really think so?" She asked me, her eyes roaming over my mischievous face, then down to my lips.

Instead of answering, I just smiled in the most enchanting way possible before calling for the bartender to order her a drink. Nicole and I talked for a while—she told me she was from Canada and didn't really have any friends in New York—it was strangely satisfying but I tried to be sympathetic and supportive even though my mind was so far away from here. The ginger girl didn't even notice how she finished one cocktail and then another, while I didn't even touch my whiskey, just idly sipped my bottle of Corona because for some reason I wanted to be as sober as possible.

As the club was getting more and more empty, Nicole was ready to give me a blowjob right at the bar, but I convinced her to go to my place and to be honest, I didn't expect it to be that easy since I hadn't really planned anything like that. I forgot about the drug dealer because now I had to worry about what I was going to say to Evelyn tomorrow because I was definitely not going to spend the night with her. 

"Patrick..." Nicole nestled into my side as we sat in the cab. "Did I tell you I know...F-French?"

I crossed my arms and shook my head in dismay. "No, you didn't," I said, looking down at her red, messy hair. "But it's nothing special...you're from Canada and French is your second official language."

Nicole let out a cartoonish giggle that made me cringe. "Oh...you know it? Damn, you're such a smart man...Mr. Bateman...so fucking smart...most guys I've slept with....didn't know that..." she giggled again and tried to pinch my nose, but I shooed her away. "Can you believe that?"

At a certain point, I was even starting to regret bringing her along, but I hoped I'd be able to shut her mouth with something...sharp and maybe deadly. "It happens, Nicole. Like you said, there were so many bad people in this town. Fortunately, you're lucky to have met someone like me."

The girl hugged me at my words, I could feel her drunk breath next to my lips, but instead of turning away I let her kiss me and it felt better than I expected. Soon the cab pulled up to the American Gardens Building. The walk up to my apartment didn't take much time, I was already thinking about how I was going to dispose of her body after I was done with her. Nicole, completely unaware of my dark thoughts, walked around my apartment barefoot as she kicked off her shoes, complaining about how fucking uncomfortable they were.

"Oh, this place is so fucking...c-cool!" She managed to say, swaying from side to side while moving. "Jesus, is that a telescope? Why do you even need that?" Nicole giggled like a child seeing one for the first time, but who knew, maybe she really was seeing it for the first time. "Do you... spy on people with that... thing?"

"No, Nicole." I replied curtly, standing next to her with my hands hidden in the pockets of my tailored pants. 

"Are you...an astronaut...from NASA?" She asked, then winced when she finally noticed my looming figure. "Are you... going to send me to the moon tonight, handsome?"

"I'll do more than that," I crooned, placing my hand on her waist and pulling her closer. "But I must say one thing you may not like..." a short pause, then a soft rumble left my throat. "I prefer that beautiful mouth of yours to be closed. Do you understand?"

I was expecting anything other than this bitch dropping to her knees and immediately working on unbuckling my belt. The way she was behaving was both amusing and enticing, but what I enjoyed most was that she was so naive and completely dumb.

"Look at you," I murmured before grabbing a handful of her ginger curls that were blocking her vision. "So inpatient, huh?"

By the time she managed to undo my pants, I was already so hard that my dick sprang out of the confines of my clothes and almost slapped her face, but it didn't bother her at all—I could only see an uncontrollable desire in those big green eyes that were now looking at me as if asking for my permission. 

Shameless, pathetic whore.

With a practiced move, I grabbed the back of her head to pull her closer to my crotch, then pressed my engorged dick against her lips, sliding it along them and making her lick off my pre-cum. "Yeah," I croaked, biting my own lips. "I definitely like you more like this...open your mouth, bitch."

Nicole obeyed and the next thing I knew I was thrusting into her mouth, her warmth welcoming me and making me grunt as I bucked my hips into her face, pushing myself further until I heard her gag around my shaft.

"'C'mon, choke on my dick," I snarled, pulling on her hair with brutal force, her nose rubbing against my pubis and I snaked my hand down to rest on her throat, wanting to feel my cock slide along it. "I'm sure no one has ever face fucked you like that...am I right, honey?"

I used that ugly nickname Evelyn always gave me and pulled myself out of her mouth to hear her answer, but she just gulped desperately for air and grabbed my legs for any semblance of support. 

"Oh-Christ...you're...s-so fucking big," she wept, trying to wipe the liquid mixture off her chin, but I wouldn't let her, pulling her head back. "Shit...you're really one of those guys...who likes it rough?"

With a devilish smile, I gave myself several quick strokes before answering. "Oh, darling. You can't even imagine how MUCH I like that kind of thing."

Panting, Nicole was not ready for me to invade her mouth again, but I didn't care, just as I ignored her little protest when I fucked her throat and felt the curve of my dick slide into her wet, tight channel. It was a bliss I had always sought, that fleeting moment of raw control over another human, once you tasted it you couldn't stop yourself.

Perfection.

As time passed, I came at least twice in her abused mouth, each time making sure she swallowed every drop, but then I got bored of fucking her face and left her sprawled out on my expensive living room floor, which I would definitely have to call the maid service to clean. Barely alive, Nicole literally vomited my sperm mixed with her blood, her plump lips swollen and bruised from my beatings—I couldn't stress her pathetic whimpering anymore, so I had to act—but she would last a while longer, I was sure of it.

As I rummaged through my stuff in the bedroom to get a condom, Nicole's pathetic whimpering was like music to my ears, but at some point I considered turning on some real music to muffle the girl's screams, although to my surprise she was not that loud. But just in case, I returned to the living room and stepped over Nicole, who was still lying on the floor, to get to my stereo and put on the latest Talking Heads album, True Stories.

"I didn't ask you what kind of music you like," I suddenly chuckled and moved closer to the sobbing girl to crouch down beside her. "But I doubt it would change anything."

After that, I stood up and decided to strip completely, every move I made calculated and mastered to perfection. One second, two seconds....ten seconds and I was almost naked, when the only thing left on me was my gold Rolex, I heard her weak, shaky voice:

"Whitney Houston," she murmured, barely audible. "I love Whitney Houston."

I stopped in my tracks. "Oh...really? What is your favorite song?"

My lips were curled in a smile that came dangerously close to something insane as I carefully placed all my clothes on one of my black chairs before picking up the girl and moving her to the window—away from my white couch that I didn't want to stain with her fucking blood. She didn't struggle, she didn't struggle at all as I positioned her against the window, pressing her bruised face against the cold glass.

"Take Good Care of My Heart," the redhead added as I began to poke at her soaked pussy, which was not shaved like most of the girls I used to have, and to be honest, I really liked it. "I...I really love the whole album."

"Oh yeah," I chuckled into her ear, fixing her in place as the tip of my cock plunged into her, causing her legs to shake. "This is such a good album..."

With that I bottomed her out completely, my balls slapping against her ass, red from my spanking, I thought I could see the outline of my hand. Her little cunt felt no worse than her mouth, but it was not as tight...after being with you, nothing seemed tight enough to me.

Fuck it!

Cursing under my breath, I sped up to pound into her as hard as I could. Thank God the glass didn't break, but I changed our position anyway. Now Nicole was bent over my black leather chair, her ass wiggling every time I thrust into her and I couldn't stop myself from spanking her, I wanted her to fucking scream and cry out in pain but all I could get from her was nothing that could signal that she was in pain. On the contrary, this girl seemed to enjoy it so much, as her hips moved in rhythm with mine, she bucked in my direction to meet my movements.

"Shit, you fuck like a whore," I blurted out, grabbing her hair in a self-made ponytail. "Is that why you came to America? To be a fucktoy for men like me?"

"Mmm...f-fuck me...please...fuck me!" Nicole didn't seem to hear me, I had to squeeze her throat to shut her up. "Ye-yes...fucking...c-choke me...please!"

Stupid bitch.

In one swift motion, I pulled out only to slam into her unprepared asshole, making her scream in pain and fuck, she sounded amazing. Quickly wiping the sweat from my forehead, I pushed her down on my cock, noticing the crimson drops of her blood on my dick, which only spurred me to move faster and more ferociously. This bitch didn't see it coming, but she was still pretty obedient, which started to seem pretty weird to me, because usually by this time women start to panic, fight and try to escape, but this fucking hoe didn't even say a word about the way I was treating her.

And that started to disappoint me.

When I thought I was not going to climax, I closed my eyes and let my imagination take control of my brain. Huffing, I rammed into Nicole harder, fantasizing about you—how we could go 69, your fingers buried deep inside my asshole - I could fucking feel the sensation of them and it sent an electric shock right through my tensed sac.

"Oh, fuck," I gripped her waist with both hands, fucking her with pure abandon. "You...fucking...arrogant prick...I hate you! I hate you s-so fucking much!"

All my curses fell on deaf ears as Nicole only whimpered in response, gripping the back of the chair and the next second I found her cumming around my cock, her inner walls spasming around me, triggering my own orgasm.

 When I was finally finished with her, I stood over her trembling body as she lay on the floor again. The girl was shaking and giggling, I thought she probably lost her mind already, so instead of using a knife or something, I decided to just strangle her with my bare hands. I wanted to see life slowly leave her body. I fucking craved it.

"Nicole," I shook her before getting on top of her, pressing her down with the weight of my muscular body. "Look at me."

Nicole's bloodshot eyes couldn't focus on mine for some time, she was stunned, dazed, ruined and intoxicated, I had to slap her face several times before she finally locked her hazy gaze with mine. The sweet anticipation of the kill enveloped my mind, my cock grew hard again as I placed both hands around her fragile neck, I began to squeeze it, lightly at first but then more and more forcefully.

"You made a big mistake coming to America, Nicole." I let out a taunt, not really expecting her to hear it or respond to it.

Everything was going according to plan when she suddenly smiled and covered my hands, not to take them off, but to stroke them with a wicked... attraction?

"Please...kill me already...I beg you..." She couldn't stop herself from crying and laughing. 

This was a psychotic episode I had experienced so many times, but I never expected to see it with my own eyes. I froze in shock, losing my grip, and as I did, Nicole pulled my hands back to her throat, shaking me as if to wake me up.

"No, no, no, no! Please...don't stop...please...I want to die! Patrick, please...set me free!" Nicole's voice cracked and I could finally see the sheer desperation in her green eyes, but this kind of desperation was different. 

This wasn't the kind of despair I'd seen before...this was something completely different. It was kind of a turn-off for me. The whole evening was fucking ruined, I couldn't believe it. Shaking my head, I stood up and stepped away from her as if from a fire. 

"Patrick...please!"

"Shut up!" I yelled, looking down at my own hands—they were shaking so badly. "Shut the fuck up!"

In a panic, I rushed to the bathroom to wash my hands for who knows what reason, then grabbed my robe and put it on. I couldn't really explain what was happening to me, but when I got back to the living room, I picked up Nicole's clothes and threw them at her.

"Get dressed," I ordered, and then I went into the bedroom to unlock my safe and take out several bundles of money. What was I doing? Panting, I paused in the doorway to watch her get dressed, then walked over to her and handed her the money. "I want you to take this, go to a hospital and get back to Canada. Do you hear me, Nicole?"

The redhead was silent, just looking at me with her pleading eyes. "But I don't want to go..."

"You have to." I emphasized the words by lowering my voice. "Just do what I say and everything should be... okay."

"But I don't want it to be okay." Nicole tried to touch me, but I pulled away.

"Just go," I repeated my previous words, this time in a more serious voice. "And never come back."

I spent the rest of the night sitting in the shower, literally sitting on the floor, crying. A lot. My eyes were so red and puffy that I didn't know which ice mask would help me look normal tomorrow. The hatred of myself that rose from my chest to my cheeks and made me nauseous—I hated myself so much that I finally admitted that I had changed—you had changed me and there was no going back. The man I was before died, now I was just an empty being, or maybe a new man had been born in my shallow soul?

When I finally managed to drag my ass out of the bathroom, the phone rang and I was sure it was Evelyn trying to fuck my brain for not coming back to her apartment and to be fair, I wasn't ready for anything like that at that moment, but considering how much of a pain in the ass she was, I didn't want any more consequences if I didn't pick up the fucking call.

As I walked into the bedroom, I took the phone from my nightstand and finally answered the call. "Yes?"

"Patrick! Jesus, I thought you weren't going to answer the call!" It was you, damn it, it was you.

My teeth almost creaked with anger and disbelief. "How many times do I have to tell you to fuck off?! Are you stalking me or what? How the fuck did you know I was in my apartment?"

"I... I didn't know... I just decided to try my luck and here we are," you replied, your voice was different than it sounded this morning. "Listen Patrick, I'm in New York right now...maybe we can see each other?"

"See each other?" Those words made me sick. "Do you even hear yourself?"

"I know that...things are pretty tense between us, but...maybe we can at least talk about it?"

"No, we can't," I clutched the phone as tightly as I could. "I don't want to see you and I don't want to hear you. Do you understand? If you ever call me again, I'll fucking find you and KILL YOU!"

With that, I dropped the phone on the floor and screamed so loudly that my throat began to hurt. Right now I was nothing but a living madness, the things that were happening in my mind were like an open chasm to hell—a place I'd be one day, I had no doubt about it.

The few days I spent in a dizzy state, I couldn't really remember what I was doing, but the only thing I was sure of was that I couldn't stop thinking about you. Also, I didn't kill anyone for lack of thrill, there was no more adrenaline or excitement—you changed me and now spilling some blood couldn't help me to relieve myself anymore. I felt like I was being shattered into pieces, decomposed into something primitive, for the first time I saw myself as being even more inhuman than I really was.

Inhuman.

What a perfect word to describe everything about me, but I still couldn't understand where I belonged? If not here, could there be a place for a creature like me?

This question was swirling around in my head like a brain worm; that damn rainy evening when I decided to stalk my dear wife. After my rather long absence, Evelyn was about to go to the police, but then I showed up at the door of her apartment at night, high as hell, but she didn't seem surprised at all. I expected her to be mad and angry, but instead she treated me really nice, I could hear her crying and her desperate touch when she hugged me, weeping and sobbing something about being so scared and worried about me and although I didn't believe a single word that came out of her mouth, something stirred inside of me.

The raindrops were falling on my umbrella like Morse code, hitting the surface with such a precise rhythm that I really thought maybe something or someone was trying to send me a sign. The level of absurdity was over the top, and if I were in a different state mentally and physically, I'd be laughing my ass off at this shit, but today I couldn't do anything funny. I couldn't smile, I couldn't sneer, I was like a ghost, a shadow of the person I was before I met you. So here I was, following Evelyn down the street after the taxi ride until I saw her stop at some hotel—a luxury hotel in Upper Manhattan to be exact— and then, after some time, when I thought nothing interesting would happen, a sleek black Cadillac stopped by the street and I saw Timothy Bryce get out of the car—he was holding a black umbrella just like me. Evelyn was so excited to see him that she didn't even wait for them to go inside the hotel, she kissed him now and then without holding back her emotions. This scene made the stone fall off my shoulders; I was so damn happy that I was right and that this fake marriage was about to collapse, but I still couldn't understand why Evelyn married me at all. To be honest, I wouldn't be surprised if one day, when we finally had a serious talk about it, she would confess that she loved both of us—me and Bryce— and suggested that we all live together.

Say hello to an altered version of the American dream family.

The reality was always cruel, and I knew it too well.

A loud clap of thunder echoed through my apartment, waking me up in my living room, drenched in sweat. Breathing heavily, I turned around to register some pornography playing on my TV, my robe was undone, I was completely naked underneath, some remnants of my cum stuck to my stomach.

Shit, I just blacked out jerking off? This porn really sucks.

And this was the 5th or maybe 10th porn tape I had watched, and I only managed to cum once. Cursing and scowling, I fidgeted on my couch to find a remote control. I was disgusted with my current situation, but then I noticed two thin lines of white powder on my glass coffee table and a twisted $100 bill. Now everything started to fall into place.

Fuck, where did I even get this gram?

I rubbed my head, and instead of turning off the porn, I turned it up louder—two perfect bimbos making out, their oiled bodies wrapped around each other like two snakes—my hand instinctively sliding back to my hard cock, throbbing and soaked with my cum.

"Oh-fuck..." I murmured through clenched teeth as I pumped myself, watching the girls play with their large breasts. "Yeah...suck her tits...suck them like a fucking pacifier..."

The louder their moaning got, the more excited I got, and just when I thought I was about to climax again, I heard... a fucking phone ringing loudly—it hurt my hearing. Confused, I stopped doing anything, ignoring the fact that one slut was now riding on the face of another. There was only one thing I could think about right now— had I turned off my phone or not? Because I definitely remembered pulling the fucking cords out of it, but that thing kept ringing? 

Slowly I got up on my stiff legs and walked to the kitchen island to grab the phone, the only light coming from my playing TV and I bumped into something pretty hard before the fucking receiver was in my hand.

"Patrick Bateman's apartment..." I almost whispered, pressing the receiver harder against my head.

"...Pat..." the echo of a familiar voice wailed from the other end of the line, but I still couldn't make out who it was. "...need... -h-help!"

"Who...am I talking to?"

"Patrick, please, help me," your voice sounded so clear now that it echoed inside my skull, drowning out all the sounds of the bad weather outside. "I'm...I'm at Paul Allen's...I need help...please...I think I'm gonna die..."

Was this some kind of prank? 

I turned around and scanned my apartment as if someone was watching me right now. I felt insane and cornered, if I was really losing my mind the best option now would be to take more coke and trigger an overdose and then...

"Can you hear me? Please, come here, I'll... give you the address..." and then I heard loud interference and noise, so I had to pull the phone away for a second. "Patrick? Please...talk to me!"

"What...what happened?" I asked, still not believing what I was doing. "Are you in pain?"

"No...yes....Patrick...listen...you should write down the address..."

Without thinking, I grabbed the Vogue magazine lying next to the phone and a pencil, and the next second I was writing down the address where Paul Allen was supposed to live. 

"Hold on! I'll be right there!" I suddenly said into the phone, but all I could hear was the agonizing beep. "Hey...I'll be there...do you hear me? I'LL BE THERE!"

Fuck!

I dropped the phone and took several deep breaths before I finally came to my senses, or so I thought. Then I rushed to the bathroom to clean up and put something on without worrying too much. So I grabbed the first suit out of my closet, fixed my hair and left my apartment to take a cab. All the way to Paul's, I was holding a crumpled page of Vogue that I had to rip out. At first I didn't even notice that I wasn't surprised when the cabbie just nodded and we drove off, so this address was real? It meant you really called me? And what about all the previous calls?

Perplexed, I leaned against the cool glass of the car window and watched the nighttime cityscape blur into something unrecognizable, almost falling asleep, but the driver turned on the radio with some cheesy pop songs that kept me awake, as I was too irritated to ignore how much I disliked such music. When the car stopped in front of a towering building like the one I lived in, I paid the driver twice what I was supposed to and got out of the cab. There were no pedestrians and for a moment I really thought that maybe I was still asleep and had to pinch myself to wake up in my living room?

As I entered the building I saw a table where the concierge should be sitting, but there was no one, so I casually opened the journal to find the number of Allen's apartment—I felt a creeping shock when I actually found his name in the journal.

Okay… this feels…too real.

Feeling a strange thrill of the rush, I closed the journal and sauntered quickly across the large lobby to the elevators. Paul's apartment was on the 15th floor, so when the door opened on the floor I needed, I stepped out of the elevator with a heavy weight in my chest. Every step I took resonated with the fast beating of my heart, and when I reached my destination, I didn't know what to do - whether to ring the bell or knock or…

Shaking myself off, I first rang the doorbell—nothing. Then I knocked several times, then again, still no answer. Finally, I put my ear to the door to listen, but I couldn't hear a single sound. Anger overcame me, so I kicked the door and turned to leave. How stupid was I? Maybe mixing my pills and coke wasn't the best idea, but this...

When I got back to the lobby, an old man, who must have been a missing concierge, greeted me with a fake polite smile. "Greetings, sir. How can I help you?"

Annoyed as hell, I stopped next to his small table, adjusted my leather gloves, and pointed to his journal. "I was looking for Paul Allen's apartment, he's my friend and I wanted to see him, but it seems...he's out tonight."

"Oh, Mr. Allen left on a business trip this morning." The concierge said casually, but then he noticed how pale I'd become. "Sir, is something wrong?"

"Did you say he left this morning?" I asked again, feeling a few beads of sweat on my tense forehead.

"Yes, sir," the old man opened the journal and began to leaf through it. "I can even tell you the exact time he left..."

"No need. Thank you." Was all I said before I turned on my heels and headed for the exit.

Outside I noticed that the taxi that had brought me here was still standing by the side of the road. It was strange but I didn't even think about it. I got in and asked the driver to take me back to my place, but first I asked him to give me a moment to sit and think. With shaking hands I picked up the crumpled piece of paper with the address on it, I traced my handwriting before throwing it out the window, my temples pounding so hard I thought my head would explode. Exhausted both mentally and physically, I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples, not noticing that the concierge I was talking to literally ran out of the building, looking around, seeking someone.

"Let's go." I ordered the cab driver with my eyes still closed. "And can you please turn off the music...my head is killing me."

The taxi drove off and I didn't see or hear the old man following the car. "Sir, wait! I made a mistake about Mr. Allen-"

Today, after I refused to go shopping with Evelyn and help her choose a fucking curtain for her living room, she finally told me that she never loved me, that she wanted a divorce and nothing else from me. The relief I felt was comparable to a good orgasm, to say the least, Evelyn was shocked at my reaction—did she really expect me to beg for forgiveness? But the single mention of Bryce made everything come to its place, I wasn't angry, no, I just couldn't solve this fucking puzzle, what was all this for? If she really liked Bryce, why couldn't she just tell me and go for him? How many times had I told her that? A hundred? A thousand? Millions? Luckily, I wasn't inclined to leave my stuff in her apartment, so I finished my busing with 'moving out' pretty quickly and smoothly, because something glorious and important was waiting for me. The last moment of my drama.

I imagine that maybe someday there will be a show on Broadway based on my life—a great example of a life that no one should have lived—I smiled at the thought, as I always liked to romanticize things in the most clichéd and poetic way. After all, Bryce was right, I was mental, and no matter how hard I tried to run away from the dark version of myself, it would catch up with me one day. And that day seemed to have finally come.

As I walked down Wall Street, wearing my favorite headphones and listening to Huey Lewis and the News, I stumbled by the phone booth—a random idea plagued my mind before I could really think about it. Opening my briefcase, I found my notebook, and soon I was dialing your office number, hoping you wouldn't answer. But my hopes were never to be fulfilled. 

To my surprise, I heard a male voice coming from the phone and all the words stuck in my throat like a lump. "Uh...hi...can I talk to..."

"Sorry sir, I can't hear you properly...it might be the bad connection," the voice replied and it made me really nervous. "I'm sorry, but if you want to talk to my boss, they are out of the office right now."

Out of the office…shit.

"Who am I talking to?" I asked, almost fainting.

"Vinc..." an unpleasant static noise came over my brain and I held my eyes closed for a second from the stabbing pain in my temples. "My name is Vincent...I'm .... assistant."

"Listen, Vincent..." I started to speak, not even knowing that he could hear my words. "I want you to tell your boss that...Patrick Bateman called and...this would be my LAST call," I laughed hysterically, leaning against the phone booth door. "I'm going to, uh... disappear..."

A short pause seemed like an eternity.

"You mean you are leaving New York City, sir?" Vincent's question surprised me.

My lips twitched in a wicked smile. "No...I mean...yes..."

"Are you going somewhere in particular, Mr. Bateman?" The man asked me and I stopped breathing for a second.

"I'm going...to a place where no one will ever...find me..."

And with that I hung up the phone. There was already a line of people by the phone booth, and as I walked away, they looked at me with the most disdainful look I could ever dream of mastering. Unfortunately, I wouldn't need it anymore.

Soon the white walls of my apartment would be the only witness to my last confession. My apartment smelled so fresh and good, the maid had just finished cleaning, and I was glad that if the police found my body, they would see that wealth and money were not a panacea for a happy life, although I had believed in it fervently for almost all these years. With deliberate steps, I walked into my bathroom, grabbed a small bottle of medicine prescribed by my psychiatrist, and popped a handful of pills at once. Then I looked at my reflection in the mirror and somehow realized that the mask I had worn for most of my adult life was about to slip. Right now, at this very moment, I was about to die. An abnormal dizziness washed over me, I could barely stand on my feet when I suddenly saw your silhouette behind me in the mirror. I gulped and turned around to see nothing but the empty doorway, my hands shaking so badly that I failed to put the bottle back in its place, dropping it on the floor and scattering pills all over the bathroom.

Holy shit.

A strong gag reflex suddenly took over me and I managed to get to the toilet faster than I could throw up—I threw up all the pills—Jesus Christ, I was so weak I couldn't even finish this... I was so pathetic. In the end, I finally accepted that as the darkness took me in its cold embrace.

Knock…knock…

What is this? Am I still alive?

I kept questioning myself because I didn't feel anything, no pain, no remorse, nothing. But if I were dead, I wouldn't hear that strange sound, would I? I opened my wet eyes and looked up at the white ceiling—I was still in my bathroom— lying on my back, covered in my own vomit, saliva and bile. My mouth smelled like a rotten rat and I knew what I was talking about. The annoying knocking kept coming from my front door, and although I didn't want to get up, I felt that if I didn't, this fucking knocking would never stop.

With careful, unhurried movements, I crawled to the sink and, leaning on the bathroom counter, managed to stand up and quickly brush my teeth, avoiding looking at my reflection because I was sure I looked like shit. After that, I took off my stained clothes and put on a new robe that I had bought myself for no reason a few days ago. 

As I approached the front door, the knocking stopped and I thought it was just another hallucination, but I decided to open the door anyway and to my surprise I saw my concierge who looked very worried and even scared.

"Mr. Bateman, thank God you're all right!" The man blurted out, holding his concierge hat in his hands.

"Of course I'm okay," I replied nonchalantly. "What happened? Or did you just come to check on me?"

"Well," the concierge looked away before rubbing his gray mustache. "Someone was looking for you..."

My eyebrows furrowed, and I peered out into the long corridor. "Who was it? Did they give a name? Was it a policeman or something?" 

"No, sir." The old man gave me an awkward smile that made me even more angry. "They were so desperate...they were literally storming around the lobby...constantly saying things about you not answering calls and not opening the door...I told them maybe you just left..."

The rest of what he said fell on deaf ears, because now I was absolutely sure who was looking for me. "What time is it now?"

"11 a.m., sir."

"Today is Friday, right?" I asked, my head spinning. "It should be Friday."

The concierge paused. "It's Sunday, sir."

Sunday?

A sharp pang of nausea crept into my stomach, nearly breaking me in half, but I managed to grab hold of the doorjamb for support. "Where is this person?"

"Mr. Bateman, I had to call the police because they were being...kind of aggressive," the concierge explained, stepping back a bit. "The cops arrived pretty quickly...they found out this person had drugs, sir."

I stagger to the side as if from the hard blow. "And what happened next...did they arrest them?"

"I...I guess so?"

I let out a tired sigh, rolling my eyes and trying to keep it together - this poor guy was not guilty, it was just an accident, but how did you get caught with drugs? It was so fucking illogical to me.

My voice was unnaturally soft as I tried my fucking best not to snap at the man across from me. "Did the cops really take them away? Did you see that with your own eyes?" The concierge just nodded, and I could tell by his nervousness that he felt it was his fault at some level. "All right, thank you for your information, remind me to tip you next month." And with that, I closed the front door, leaving the man in a completely bewildered state.

Shit...this whole situation seemed like a fucking joke, but I had to think fast—I needed a plan how to solve this bullshit and maybe I could get some answers if I could help you. I took a moment to collect myself and told myself that one way or another I had to go there...to rescue you.

I'll do it even if I have to burn down this police station.

In record time, my impeccable appearance was ready, and now I confidently walked down the long, dimly lit corridor of the police station that was closest to where I lived—I hoped you were in that station, but if not, I would visit all of them until I found you.

Finally, I reached the reception area, where a pretty policewoman greeted me with a friendly smile. "Good afternoon, sir. What can I do for you?"

"I'm looking for..." I opened my briefcase and showed her my notebook with your full name written in it. "Are they here, in this department? I believe they were arrested today."

The officer smiled at me before she turned around and started to rummage through some papers, folds, notes... With each passing moment I was getting more and more impatient, but I had to play it cool.

"I think I found the person you were looking for," the woman said, placing several documents on the reception desk, implying that I should take a look at them. "They were delivered here an hour ago."

"Can I see them?" I asked, putting on my casual, seductive smile.

“And what is your relationship to the suspect?” 

Damn, not this fucking question.

I was a little stunned at first, but then I quickly tugged at my red tie and tilted my head in a condescending way. "I'm their lawyer, and I need to see them as soon as possible."

I noticed that her expression suddenly changed, her eyes gliding over my massive form—she was obviously trying to access my appearance and compare it to the look of a successful lawyer living in New York City—when I gave her an intense look and then winked, she visibly blushed.

After a small cough, she took the documents and only then dared to look at me again. "The suspect is now in interrogation room number one. Don't get lost."

"Thanks." I grinned broadly and, after closing my briefcase, left the reception.

It didn't take me long to find the interrogation room I needed. As I stopped right next to the door, I checked myself in the reflection of the nearby window—I looked perfect, not as perfect as I used to be, but not too horrible either.

A light knock on the door before I opened it. "Good afternoon, sorry for the long wait. How is my client? I hope you haven't done anything inappropriate in my absence?"

The moment our eyes met, I could see a mixture of shock, disbelief, and something beyond human understanding.

"And who the hell is that?" One of the officers—a rather fat guy with a messy beard—asked his partner, then looked at you. "You said you were from Chicago and your lawyer had to catch a flight here."

"Yes, that's exactly what I said. Why are you telling me my own words?" You crossed your arms and gave me a scorching gaze, I seized the moment of your confusion to nestle into the empty chair next to you. "Probably...my lawyer has handed this case over to his colleague in New York, so he doesn't have to come here."

Both policemen looked at us as if we were idiots—which we definitely were—but I hoped this affair would work out.

"But you asked to be allowed to make a phone call... the whole damn time," another policeman replied, pointing his finger at you and then at me. "I'm going to send you both to jail if you don't tell me what-"

"Jesus Christ, I told you several times...I was at a party...I took someone's coat by mistake and there was...this fucking bag of cocaine, but it's not mine! You can check the fingerprints and you won't find mine on this fucking bag! HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU?"

"My client is right. Before we get the results of the fingerprint analysis, the presumption of innocence should not be forgotten." I started in the most serious tone I could manage. "Remember that."

Both officers started arguing with each other almost immediately, using many different insults that I would definitely have to remember so that I could present them to Tim— he would love to hear them. I was about to say something clever when the door suddenly opened and a woman with dark hair stepped into the room.

"What the hell is going on?" The woman asked her colleagues, looking disappointed and quite angry. "Everyone can hear you outside."

"Oh, Miss Moore," one of the officers murmured like a guilty child. "Well, we..."

"Detective Moore to you, Rogers," she replied, her posture radiating confidence. You and I both stared at her for a while, I noticed her tanned skin and thick curly hair, she was definitely Hispanic, the accent was also quite noticeable. "Can I confide in you at least once?" Officer Rogers looked at his partner, neither of them said a word, and that made the detective even more annoyed. "We'll talk about it later, now go."

The cops didn't dare protest, and soon they left. Now it was just you, me and Detective Moore in the interrogation room. The tension was palpable in the air, my hands were sweaty and shaking, I had to brush them off my open coat, but before I could, you caught one of them and squeezed it barely sensibly—I gasped, almost choking on my saliva.

After a brief examination of the documents, the woman across from us raised her brown eyes and smiled, not too friendly, but not too menacing either. "So, my name is Andrea Moore," she turned to look at you, holding a piece of paper in her hand. "I already know your name," her piercing gaze finally stopped on me. "May I have your documents, sir?"

Swallowing hard, I unlocked my briefcase to hand her my ID. "Yeah, sure."

"Mr. Bateman...have we met before?"

"No...I don't think so."

Andrea hummed to herself. "Well, I hope you brought your law license with you?" 

Your grip on my palm tightened, I almost let out a hysterical squeal. "I... I must have left it in my office."

"Listen," you suddenly spoke up, gesticulating as if you were at a school presentation. "I need to call my assistant, Vincent Eisenhower...he will help sort things out-"

"Wait a minute...did you say Vincent Eisenhower?" Andrea suddenly stopped you, obviously surprised.

"Uh, yeah, he's my assistant at the company I work-" 

"...in Chicago?" 

"Yes..." you replied in confusion. "Is there something wrong with that?"

The detective didn't answer, and it made me nervous as hell, but you holding my hand in a gentle manner was strangely comforting, even though I despised such displays of affection.

Looking puzzled, Andrea finally took the pen and a clean piece of paper. "Can you give me the number...I'll call Mr. Eisenhower and ask him for...a real lawyer. Mr. Bateman, I hope you understand the consequences of your actions-"

"Leave him alone, it's not his fault," you cut Andrea off before I could say anything in my defense. "He didn't know what he was doing coming here...please...he hasn't done anything bad...he's just going through a hard time in his life and..."

"Enough," the detective raised her hand in a halting gesture. "I hope I can reach out to Mr. Eisenhower....You two better pray for that."

Andrea left as abruptly as she had come. We were finally alone. Both confused, frightened, and lost.

"Why did you even come here?" You asked, not looking at me, but not parting our hands. "How stupid of you to come here and act like you were my lawyer."

"I HAD NO CHOICE!" I almost screamed, turning in my seat to cut the mere distance between us. "Not after you terrorized me with those damn phone calls..."

As I said that, time stood still for us and I could see the inner conflict in your deep, mesmerizing eyes—you were broken and lost just like me—I looked down at our intertwined hands, waiting for your answer.

"What calls, Patrick? What are you talking about?" 

"You know WHAT I'm talking about...don't try to fuck with my brain," I husked, inches from your lips. "You think this is funny, huh?" 

"And you think it's funny to call my office and tell my assistant about your suicidal intentions?" Your warm breath wafted pleasantly around my face as you moved closer. "You think it's funny to appear and disappear in my life like I'm a toy you can play with whenever you feel bored?"

At first I didn't answer. Instead, I just kept eye contact with you, then I lowered my eyes to our hands again—my palm was bigger than yours, this little detail always made my heart flutter. Did I ever think that such a small thing would stir such strong emotions in me? Probably not.

Definitely not.

"By the way, did you manage to find out anything about that machine you told me about?" I questioned abruptly, putting my arm around your shoulders. 

You frowned and chuckled in disbelief. Well, at least the tension was relieved.

"What machine?" You fidgeted in your seat as I pulled you closer. "Hey, don't change the subject..."

"A memory reboot machine," I crooned, leaning forward so our noses rubbed against each other. "If you're here... that means you probably didn't find it."

The urge to indulge in this moment, to follow the passionate momentum and just kiss these lips I'd been thinking about all along, was unbearable, but I didn't want to be the first to fall apart and drop my defenses.

"Maybe I never needed this machine," you replied, pressing your forehead against mine for a brief moment. "Because I never wanted to forget...you?"

Was it a question or a statement—we never knew as we both moved towards each other, my burning lips pressed against your soft ones as we shared the most desirable kiss I could ever imagine. Gasping into my mouth, you let go of my hand only to wrap both of them around my neck as you responded with no less favor than mine. It was so hot, so desperate, so tragic. And it was all mine— your pain, your anger, your hatred.

Because you were my salvation.

With precise deftness, I carefully tilted your head back a little to deepen the kiss, my arms eagerly but not persistently roving around your back, knowing every little detail of your body, every dent and bump. As much as I wanted to tell you how fucking perfect you were for me, I didn't want this kiss to end, but as if you could read my mind, you suddenly pulled me away a little too abruptly and roughly.

"God, I hate you..." you wept, covering your face so I couldn't see your tears. "I really... I really thought you were going to do something bad... I was afraid it was too late..."

I was at a loss, I didn't know how to react or what to say—everything about you confused me, made my brain overload with different thoughts about what you said and why—now was no exception.

"But I'm here now...in one piece," I decided not to touch you, my hand resting on the back of your chair, ready to hug you at any moment if it was needed. "You should understand that...if I really wanted to do this, no one would be able to stop me..." I whisper above your ear and place my hand on the back of your head, gently stroking your hair as you rest your head on the table. "Even you."

I knew that this confession would mean nothing, just like all my previous ones, but as soon as I said it, you raised your tear-stained eyes and whimpered. "Don't say that...don't fucking say that! You can be a total asshole, but that doesn't mean you deserve to die..."

"Darling," I gently brushed your stray locks from your face, trying to distract you and keep you from saying words that would only make things worse. "You know so little about me...but I don't want you to say something you'll regret..."

"I've already said too many things that I now regret," you replied, turning away from me. "Have you ever thought about your family and how they would react if something bad happened to you? Have you thought about Evelyn?"

My eyebrows knitted together, the words you said pierced my heart like sharp daggers, but I didn't want you to stop, because you were right, I was always selfish, but you knew so little about my family, who would surely be sad about the loss, but they would recover pretty quickly, since they still had Sean. And Evelyn? I would laugh if things were not so sad.

Trembling and sobbing, you still sat with your back to my face. "I'm not going to ask you for anything except to promise me that you'll never even think about...hurting yourself."

Oh, dear.

With a soft clink of my chair, I stood up and placed both of my hands on your trembling shoulders. "I promise... if you stay with me, I'll never look back... on my previous life." I felt your body tense under my touch. "We can't reboot the memory, but we can...reboot our lives?"

This was it—the moment I had fantasized about so many times, considering different outcomes, scenarios—I was waiting for your answer when the door creaked and Detective Moore appeared in my vision. She was much more cheerful than before, which worried me a bit.

"So," she took a seat, opened a folder with documents and wrote something on it. "I spoke to Vince, and luckily for you, he has already contacted your lawyer-"

"Vince?" You asked in shock, but at least you stopped crying.

Andrea stuttered and cleared her throat. "I mean..." she paused and twirled the pen in her hand. "It happened that Vincent and I used to know each other..."

What?

We were both speechless, how the hell could such a coincidence have happened? 

"Well... I really didn't see it coming..." You murmured, brushing the remnants of tears from your face.

"Neither did I," the detective chuckled curtly before resuming her work on some papers. "Listen, we should wait for the results of the fingerprint analysis, and while we wait, you are forbidden to leave the city. Please put your sign here."

"What is this?"

"Your ticket to freedom," she explained. "A street bail."

I saw you hesitate, so I gave you a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder and you looked at me, I simply nodded, and you placed the sign. 

"And how long have you known Vincent?" You asked after you handed the document back to Andrea. "Just asking."

"Since childhood, I think."

"Oh... that's... a lot."

"Vince has always been known for being a good boy..." the woman paused, coughing awkwardly. "Uh, you can talk to him about... that if you're interested." Andrea closed the folder and shifted her gaze to me. "And you, I highly recommend that you never do anything like this again."

"So you're not going to put me in a cell?" I replied in a slightly teasing manner.

"No...not this time. But the officer who allowed you to come here will be severely punished, maybe even fired," Andrea explained, getting up from her chair. "It's her first day at the police station, but she let a man go through without even checking his papers. Such violations are very serious."

And although I didn't feel sad for this woman I would probably never see again, I looked at you and your big doe eyes. "Maybe there's a way not to fire her? I assured her that I was a lawyer and...I could pay a fine if I had to."

Detective Moore said nothing, she just grinned and beckoned us to follow her.

An hour later we finally left the police station. For some time we walked in complete silence, the surrounding commotion drawing out my shallow breathing, my mind overclocked with the search for topics to talk about after all the shit that had happened.

"So... where did you stay?" I asked casually, looking at you from above, your eyelashes shimmering in the sunlight. "In the Plaza?"

"No," you replied almost immediately. "Not the Plaza this time...it was all booked up."

"You were really in New York... for the whole time?"

"Depends on what time you mean exactly," your slight smile made me almost stumble, but I pretended to see someone familiar. "Maybe I haven't left New York at all?"

No, that can't be.

"You know, since you can't leave the city... maybe we should spend some time together and... you didn't answer my question."

My offer made you stall, and I followed suit. Passers-by walked past us, not paying attention even though we were standing in the middle of the street.

"Was it really a question?"

"And what do you think it was?"

"A plea?" You smiled and stepped closer to me until there was no space between us. "If you weren't so stubborn...everything could be so much easier."

"And YOU tell me that?" I let myself pull you closer to me. "I have an idea...fuck the place where you stopped! We should go to Newport."

"Newport? Would it count that I left New York?" you asked me a little shyly. "Do you have a house there or...?"

"My family has a house there and since they are out of town we can use it to kill time...have you ever been to Newport?" My hands rested possessively on your waist and before I knew it, I added. "Me and Evelyn are getting divorced..."

"No, I haven't," you replied, finally resting your hands on my shoulders. "But I really want to...since I've heard a lot of good things about this place..." then you suddenly froze. "What... What did you say? Are you kidding me? God, I can't believe this...I..."

You continued to bubble something that made me smile in amusement and I couldn't help but hold you tightly in my arms— the place you always belonged to, though I understood it too late. The fresh breeze of change swirled around us, playing with our hair and clothes. Yesterday I didn't know if I would make it to tomorrow, but today I was sure that there would be so many tomorrows because I wasn't alone anymore.

With you, for you, in your name—I was still alive and finally free.

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my writing community to know when I update!💞

[eybefioro]

Good little girl~~~

Wacky races - fairly odd parents - powerpuff girls - scooby doo

Please open the image. Tumblr is killing the quality for some reason... :P

(Time lapse and ramblings under the cut!)

@waitingtobebroken @greenthena tagging u bc you voted for this option on the pool <3 hope you liked it!

NnnnnnnNNNHHHHHHHHGGGGGGGGGGG!!!! SAVE ME PRINCESS ANGEL FOOD CAKE!!! SAVE!! ME!!!!!!! aaaaaaaaa I can't stop thinking about her now. As you can see. I used as a ref the cunty-est look of Aziraphale. The French revolution one. Obviously. He was an absolute princess with those shiny shoes to have a date with his boyfriend. And then. Then I went to look what an angel food cake looked like. Bc. I unfortunately never had one. Lo and behold. Same color scheme. I AM GOING INSANE. No I'm normal sorry. I just am in love. Bc. Princess angel food cake.

I had a lot of fun with the background and put some easter eggs here and there! I loooooooove adventure time's backgrounds. They're so pretty and detailed.... also... also.... coloooorrrrssss 🤤 the colors on that show!!! I couldn't replicate it here properly. It's way more pastel there. But I guess it still looks nice? I hope so!! (I just notice that since it's night that means I edited the color with the blue light filter on which probably screwed the balance ooppss!)

And my beautiful wife Crowline. Nnngkkk it was soooooo nice to draw her aaaaaaa! Idk but the Adventure time artstyle is just so SATISFYING to draw. It's nice. I might do it again. I had so much fun!

Also I yapped about it before. But. But. Good little girl/bad little boy is such a A/C coded song. I have it in my mind for a week now. Gosh if I had the power of animation I'd make an animatic. I've found this amazing animatic but I need MOAR!!!! If I had the time I'd make it in stop motion.... ANYWAYS I SHALL STOP RAMBLING NOW.

I think my next one will prob be Courage the cowardly dog but I make no promises!

[isagrimorie]

The Wrap is doing a weekly interview with Jac Schaeffer breaking down every episode of Agatha All Along:

Well, another thing in your show I also want to get into with this first episode is the Aubrey Plaza and Kathryn Hahn of it all. The tension, the chemistry — and it’s sexual tension first and foremost — that you build between them. And it’s from the jump. I want to know how those conversations went with Marvel. Was it a “Let’s see how much we can get away with?”

Well first, in terms of the execution of it — I mean, OK. It is on the page. Like it is on the page that there is crackling chemistry between the two of them. It was a conversation with Marvel in so much as it’s about the history of these two characters, and that is a conversation about Agatha’s character. And we peel back layers as we move through the show. So that’s the conversation is like, what is the history that we’re we’re going to be portraying? As far as their actual chemistry on set, I mean, I was directing that episode, and I had to do so little. Aubrey signed up because she wanted to work with Kathryn. Both of them were so raring to go. They were sort of like horses, you know? Like there was a palpable thing that they just wanted to be let loose. And that seemed particularly, like, where they’re in Agnes’ house and Agatha is on the couch and Rio’s in the chair. I don’t normally do this, but it was almost like Aubrey wanted it; I started giving Aubrey direction that Kathryn couldn’t hear. Like, intentionally, I was sort of whispering things. I am an above board director, but there was something that like, it was all so intimate. I would get really close to Aubrey, and it was a very quiet set, and their physicality is so great, that I started doing that. And it seemed to kind of help with what Aubrey was doing, because everything they’re saying is coded, you know what I mean? And you feel that. So it was, yeah, we just super leaned into it. It was so combustible from the beginning.

Jac, you had me and at least two of my coworkers blushing during the first battle when Kathryn goes “Don’t you want me–” and Aubrey cuts in with “horizontal? In a grave?” She didn’t mean in a grave, I see you.

(Laughs)

That’s so much more explicit than usual. So, when you talk about not having to do much, was there anything that you maybe wanted to pull back? How did you decide how much tension to create in this first episode?

We did not pull any of it back, I will say. So like in the office scene, when Rio says, “If you want to be in control, you can be.” That’s Aubrey. A smart actor is going to see the opportunity for the subtext there. But Aubrey is the one taking that inhale, and resting for a pause. And then editor, Jamie Gross and I were like, “That’s the take. That’s the only take we’re using.” That take where she’s, like, in her body. And the other thing that I find bewitching, to use a word I use a lot, about it is the effect it has on Agatha. It puts her on the back foot, and that’s what we want in this episode, is Agatha is not in her right mind, and so Rio is poking at her in myriad ways. But one of them is this sexual tension. And also it sort of speaks to that Agatha’s character is not comfortable being emotionally vulnerable. You know, that is accurate. It’s what it brings out in our protagonist is kind of what I’m always after. But no, Aubrey played it so well, and then Kathryn was doing this sort of like walled off Lady Cop thing. And it was like, the least amount of work I did was on their chemistry.

[maleyanderecafe]

Broken Colors (Visual Novel)

Created by: The ⁍ Ink ⁌ Room

Genre: Horror/Romance

I've been waiting for this one from @inkly-heart for a while and it is very well made for a demo! From the easter eggs to the art style, it really does seem to go above and beyond. This game is an r18 game so while there's nothing of the sort in the demo so far, it is something to keep in mind of with future installments.

The story starts with the MC waking up and going to her job at a convenience store to meet their coworker, Ramus. Ramus is a snarky coworker that seems to dump all his work onto the MC. After meeting and serving some customers, the MC takes a quiz on a magazine as they wait, however are interrupted by Ramus who walks off to a party. From here, the options splinter off.

Daydreaming allows the MC to meet Dameon, a new customer that comes in after being rejected by his crush. Depending on the answer, it can go a couple of ways. Sympathizing with him allows him to develop a crush on the MC, with the MC attempting to make him feel better by complimenting him and reassuring him. After a nice conversation with him, he leaves promising to come back. At this time, he develops an obsession with MC and the item that they've given to Dameon becomes a sign of their love. The MC meanwhile is annoyed that they didn't ask for his name and heads home. After some intrusive thoughts about their family, they go to sleep, At night, Dameon breaks into the MC's place, learning their name and promising that they will meet later on. The MC can also just act normally with them or straight up ignore them, which either leads to a normal conversation or Dameon getting annoyed, and leads to being chased by DG in the alleyway.

Picking up a call with lead to Ramus telling the MC to deal with a delivery man that's coming over. Someone does come over to presumably rob the MC, but we find out that it's a prank from the delivery man named... Delivery Guy (or DG). After some small talk, Dameon comes in and greets both the MC and DG, telling DG that the person they confessed to rejected him in a rude manner. DG seems annoyed by the fact they treated his friend so rudely and goes to take care of the delivery. Dameon and the MC have a nice chat with Dameon falling for the MC. Afterwards, the MC goes to check on DG who scares them and finishes the delivery. The ending is the same as before where Dameon comes to stalk the MC in their house.

If the MC reads the newspaper, they will get a call from Ramus and then go home after, only to be chased by DG and pinned down. There are a couple of endings that follow this ending depending on choice.

Starting out, the game is extremely well made for a demo. This could just be because I'm biased towards the art style, but even so, the amount of details including how nice the backgrounds look, to the various cameos of other ocs they have, such as Angel on the magazine. I also like the little touches on the sprites when they emote, such as when they're angry there's a vein emote, which gives more personality. I also like the little changes to the nametags when each character talks.

The main yandere in this one is Dameon, or Stalker. The general idea with Stalker is presented in the story, where they generally jump from love to love, though in this game, they are specifically infatuated with the MC and seemingly refuses to let go. Dameon and DG have a sort of friend relationship, with DG "taking care" of those that disrespect Dameon and just generally being a serial killer. From what I remember, this might lead to a poly ending with the two in the future just based on how close they are, which is always interesting. Dameon is pretty much written to be a yandere, with his stalking tendencies, killings, though what is interesting is that he seemingly again jumped from person to person, but likely will stay with the MC based on the what's going on in the game. I am curious what happens if the MC doesn't gain Dameon's attention, since it will likely move towards DG's route of being more of a murder sim rather than specifically a yandere route. I'm also curious if Ramus will have a route as well or even get killed in the story.

That being said, I'm sure there will be much more characters that the MC will be able to interact with in the future considering the sheer amount of OCS that inkly has, as well as the various cameos that appear in the demo. I am curious how the interactions will play out and what the MC's relationship will be with them.

That being said, it's a very well made demo and I hope to see more promising updates in the future!

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

Hii!! Thank you for writing my shy teen writer request! I wanted to ask for a sequel for that fic, where there was an accident which managed to send the characters back in their world. The reader thought that the bsd cast were back to normal (non self aware) but they were wrong. After that happened the bsd cast tried to open the portal again but it took a few years for the portal to open again. When they were able to go back to the real world the reader was already 17 years old (14 when they 1st met) and they had published more books throughout the years. Some of them became a best seller and reader was finally known as a professional writer at the young age of 17. Now their parents want them back for the money and tries to guilt trip them. Reader leaves some habits of the bsd casts in their books like an Easter egg. They also were able to become more open with people and make friends. I'm just wondering how the bsd characters would be proud of the reader lmao

Srry if it's too long and ty for writing my request, I love your fics! ❤️❤️

Hello! I am so glad, that you liked, how I do your request.

Here you go, second part. I hope, you like it. Hope, you are having a great day!

Reunion

Self-Aware! Platonic! BSD Characters x Teen! Reader

Description: Because of an accident, BSD gang is back to their world. You are sure, that they have lost their self-awareness. You have to move on.

Three years later, your family is finally back to you.

Hurt/Comfort. Reader, miss BSD gang. Reader, become a writer.

Sequel to Your dream matters

Warning: Elements of angst. Gold diggers for Biological Parents. OOC. English is my second language.

___________

You don't know, what happened. One moment you were having fun with your new family. Celebrating the six-month anniversary of their arrival and your adoption. Celebrating your achievements.

The next moment, the bright light fills the room.

When it fades, your family were gone.

You were searching for them. You called, you cried.

But no one came.

When you check the BSD Mayoi app, you saw, that they were back in the app.

But why they aren't coming back?

Did they lose the self-awareness?

That night, you cried as never before.

You begged them to come back. You begged them not to leave you.

For the next few days, you feel terrible. Thankfully, Alcott and Fitzgerald made sure, that your biological family will never get custody over you again. Besides, thanks to Fitzgerald, you won't have money problems. And that your parents will never touch that money.

You knew, that you can't spend the rest of your life crying about your friends. You need to move forward.

After one week of crying, you open your laptop and start writing.

To honor them. To honor their love. To honor their belief in you, you will be a writer.

___________

In the BSD world, your family were panicking. The portal glitches and send them back there. And now it can't be turned on. Worse of all, they lost their access to your phone and app. They can't even leave a message for you.

But they can hear you...

Your tears, your pleas.

"G-guys? A-are still there? P-please, answer."

"Work! Start working, you damn portal!" Poe hits portal with his first. Nothing.

"D-did you lost it? H-have you lost self-awarness?"

"No! [Y/N] WE ARE STILL THERE!" Oda was screaming, hoping, that you will hear them.

"Please... Just one message... Guys..."

Fyodor was nervous. He tried to hack the app again. So they can leave a message for you.

Nothing.

They were separated from you.

The work on trying to find the way to you start all over again.

_________________

Three years later

________________

"So, when will the new book came out?" asked Mary, looking at you with anticipation. "And what the book will be about?"

You chuckled and answer.

"Can't tell. You know pretty well, that I don't like giving spoilers for my books. Even to a friend. Sorry."

Mary pouts. Her brother, Arnold, rolled his eyes and playfully solve her.

"Told you, that [Y/N] won't answer. They value their work and won't spoil it to others."

Mary glared at her brother, but quickly look back at you.

"Fine, keep your secrets. But, I hope, that the detective who liked adding jam to grape pie will be in the book. Or writer, who loves raccoons. Right, Arnold?"

Arnold nodded.

"Yea. But I also would like to see a thief, who liked to hum old songs, and a postman, who cared about orphans. Anyway, want to hang out today?"

Your smile faded for one second, but you quickly compose yourself.

"Sorry, guys, but not today. Today I will be busy."

Siblings nodded in understanding. You are a professional writer, you must be busy with writing a new book.

You say goodbye to your friends and start walking home.

They didn't know, that you won't be busy with writing.

____________

You have changed for the last few years.

You became seventeen.

You were no longer shy, you had friends. You start going out with them. Not only that, but you could stand for yourself.

And you have become a writer.

Some of your books became bestsellers. And all of your books had good reviews and people liked them.

You became a known writer in seventeen.

Life was quite good.

But today you won't do any writing or fan meeting.

Today you had a special day.

That day, three years ago, your family got back to their world and loose self-awareness.

You moved forward. But you still missed them.

After they got back, you stopped watching and reading BSD. You don't want to see your family been hurt. You didn't read any spoilers. They weren't characters for you anymore. For you, they will always be your family.

You didn't delete BSD Mayoi. It serves as a reminder of your family.

Your books were a way to honor them. You add BSD Cast's habits to your characters.

For Ranpo it was a detective who liked adding jam to grape pie.

For Poe, it was writer, who loves raccoons.

For Fyodor, it was thief, who liked to hum old songs.

For Oda, it was a postman, who cared about orphans.

And so much more.

You miss them. Today you will have a small dinner to honor your lost family. You were preparing for that dinner for the last week.

_______________

Meanwhile, in BSD world

________________

Three years.

It takes them three years to open the portal again.

Tonight, they will be back to you.

BSD cast were ecstatic. They can't wait to return to you. Their Precious Guiding Light. Their child, siblings, grandchild.

The Cast gather in a Meeting Room. Fyodor Dostoevsky, finally hacks the app and get access to your phone.

They want to see how much has happened while they were away.

They found an interview with you. About been a young writer.

They were so proud of you.

Poe, who was mentoring you three years ago, had tears in his eyes. You achieved your dream.

Oda also has tears in his eyes. He was so glad, that you manage to prove others wrong.

Fyodor, while he wasn't crying, were extremely proud of you.

All of them were proud of you.

They can't wait to tell you about that in person.

____________

You finally get home. And you didn't like, who you saw on the doorstep.

You glare through the window at two people who were standing at your doorstep. Your biological parents. You can hear them talk. Once again, they were talking about getting a custody over you again.

They wanted to have an access to money, that Fitzgerald has left. And to the money you get from your books.

"[Y/N], dear, we have missed you! Please, let us inside. Let's talk!"

"[Y/N], stop running! We want to have our baby back!"

"[Y/N], you are our flesh and blood, we deserve your gratitude!"

"[Y/N], we are your parents! These people, who took you away from us, don't care about you! Where are they now? Where were they for the last three years?!"

You walked away from the window. You called the police. They took your parents away for been on your private property without permission.

You were left alone with your thoughts. Their words hurt. You tried to hold back tears. You need to prepare dinner for tonight.

____________

In the evening, you set up a table in the dining room.

Your family favorite food. You were careful with it, it still was packed. There was nothing, that will spoil soon. Tomorrow you will treat your friends. But right now, it is dinner to honor your lost family.

You place your phone on the table and open BSD Mayoi app. You start talking.

"It's been three years, right? O wish you were there. I miss you all so much... What?"

And, once again, the bright light fills the room. The same light, that shined three and the half years ago, when BSD cast appeared in your room.

________

They were looking at you. You were looking at them.

All of you were silent. You can't believe it.

And, once again, like three and the half years ago, Ranpo walked forward and smiled.

"Hello, Guiding Light, nice to see you face to face-e-e"

You crashed him in a hug. You were crying. Because of happiness.

"You... I missed you all do much... Family, my family... You are here again. You won't disappear again, right?"

Ranpo, with tears in his eyes, whispered.

"No, [Y/N], we won't. This time, we are here to stay."

__________

The next hour was full of tears and hugs. They didn't let you be alone for one second. After you finished with one hug, you were quickly pulled into another. After all of you were 'calm', at some extent, Oda place his hand on your shoulders.

"[Y/N], there are something important we must tell you. We are so proud of you, our little writer."

"Odasaku is right, We are so proud of you!" grinned Dazai.

"You manage to capture my intelligence in this character. I am so proud to be an inspiration for him" smile Ranpo, petting your head.

"I am glad, that my lessons come in handy. I am proud of been your teacher" Poe's voice was soft.

"Little Bird, you rocks. I am proud, that you make your dream come true" Nikolai's eyes shined with pride

"I am proud of your success, [Y/N]" Fyodor squeezed your hand.

One by one, your family told you, how proud they were.

You feel, like you were in heaven.

The life was good before. Now it was perfect.

You were a writer. Your dream come true.

You became confident.

You had friends.

And, most importantly, you had your family back.

_________

Bonus.

"Dad Fitzgerald, Brother Ranpo, Uncle Ango, how came that my bio parents, has lost everything and now charged with stealing and fraud?"

"Um... We don't know, right, Fitzgerald?"

"Yes, Ango, we don't know... Ranpo?"

"No, we don't. Hey, [Y/N], want to play Cluedo?"

"... You know, what, fine. I won't question that. Get the game, Ranpo"

[snek-panini]

Happy Halloween! Have a book:

This is Siren's Song by @kedreeva (Hi! I asked to bind your fic months ago, sorry it took so long XD). It's an incredible Good Omens siren AU, which needs no introduction from me but it gets one anyway. It's one of the most in-character fics I've ever read, tackles a lot of the most resonant themes of the original (love in the context of aromanticism and asexuality, human labels in the context of non-human perspective), and has incredible world-building. Later parts of the fic always make me cry but they're good tears. You'll see. When I first learned that fanbinding was a thing and started looking into how to do it, this was one of the first fics I thought of. It just took me a while to learn the skills I needed before I could do it.

More pics and process talk under the cut!

So the cover up there is black faux leather and momi paper that I bought...about two years ago? And just kept on hand till I was ready to do this project. This is the first time I've worked with it and it was fairly nice, though harder to get a nice crease into than lokta or chiyogami. It felt very fragile when I was handling it but I didn't have any issues with tearing or glue bleed-through like I thought I might. It did bleed some color when I got it damp with the glue, and it took way longer to dry than normal, but once that was done it's been fine. Which is nice because I have a lot left over, so it'll probably be making many future appearances in my binds.

Look! It's rounded! I got a backing setup recently and this is my first time using it. It was Very Hard and I am not very good at it yet. But I think it looks pretty good for a first attempt, and there was really no other way to mitigate the spine swell on this one. I used a thick paper so I've got a thick book. I also tried something new with the case, though it isn't visible. Usually I make the text block and the case separately and then attach them as the last step, but for this one I actually built the case around the text. Like, boards attached to mull/tapes (sandwiched between thinner boards, with grooves cut for them so there are no bulges), then covered with momi, then leather corners and spine, then paste down the endpaper. It's got an oxford hollow, too! The tapes and mull actually wrap around the outside of the boards instead of the inside like I've done before. Endpapers are my favorite feather chiyogami. Combined with the marbled momi they make for a very opulent look, and I had just barely enough to do this. Like, down to the millimeter. I had to trim the edges and then glue the endpapers after to be sure they were right. I'm glad they were, because I didn't have a backup plan. Handmade endbands, colors picked to match the cover. Also, last note, I got the corner bits right for the first time. Measured properly, with no weird pointy bits that come out at funny angles. Very proud.

Title page and bookmark/interior shot. Did you know that some basic fonts in MS Word look different when you use a huge font size? Because I didn't until I made this title page. That's Parchment for the title, and it only gets those swirly bits around the capital letters if you take it to 26pt or higher (I used 72 here). Now I wonder if any of the other fonts have easter eggs in them like that. The ribbon is very fancy, to go along with the rich endpaper/cover combo. I think it's pretty appropriate for a mythological golden age of piracy story, as are the text ornaments:

Chapter header image, chapter end image, and section break image. It was a very image-heavy typeset. I was originally planning to only have a header and a section break, but I couldn't decide whether I liked the ships or the book/shell/feather better, and they both suited the story so well that I just went with both. Again, opulent, but I think it fits. All the images came from rawpixel, all I did was resize them.

There was a small error in the trimming process. Comes of having to calculate so closely the exact amount you can trim off, that you have to trim off so your slightly-too-small endpapers fit. I think something got misaligned when I poked the sewing holes because only the first signature is like this. The rest of the book has a more appropriately-sized margin between the page number and the edge. I got very lucky here, and I know it, and I'm never cutting it this close (lol) again. Next time we just order another sheet of chiyogami.

And that's it! I have one author's copy and one new bind in progress right now (that's taking a while because I'm learning more new stuff for it), and then I have two Christmas gift books to do, so it might be a bit before I have another book to share.

[marshmallowprotection]

What are your thoughts on the new Cg? Butler Saeran? I’m not use to the him nor Jumin and Zen with glasses. But they look good

Normally, I would do a lengthy analysis post about the image, but there isn’t much here for me to analyze! I do want to write something for the anniversary that I will try to get out before the end of the month, but it's not going to be tacked onto an image analysis since there isn't much for me to say here other than point out a few Easter eggs. 

I got what I wanted. Jaehee in a tuxedo. This is what I manifested at the start of the month and I am grateful that we not only got her in a maid outfit, we got her in a butler outfit, too. Jaehee stans, you have won and she is front and center! This is her moment and she is killing it. I feel the need to stare at her for a little while because it's cute and there's no way I'm going to let this moment pass me by without really appreciating Jaehee aesthetically.

I'll be honest, I don't know why the recent trend has been to make our boy Yoosung super clumsy. He's never really been a clumsy guy and I don't know where someone got the idea that Yoosung isn't on top of what he's doing. I will agree in saying he's probably the easiest person to bully in the entire universe because he's sweet and gullible, but he isn't clumsy, and yet, every image we've gotten of him this year other than his birthday image has had him busting his ass on the ground in one way or another.

Does ANYONE know why they're bullying Yoosung this bad? I mean, he's really cute here and I appreciate that he's trying his best to really impress the MC, but c'mon, give him a break.

I did not realize how badly I needed Jumin in glasses. Jumin's already a very handsome person but somehow adding glasses really elevates it here for some reason. I don't know how his vibe has enhanced for me but it has. I wear glasses myself and I always have, so it's nice to see the characters in glasses in official artwork because I'm always super curious to see how they would look. It's working for Jumin, that I can tell you.

I like that his hair isn't as neat and tidy as it usually is, too.

I fear they have slayed. Saeyoung and Zen are dazzling in their own right and I can't remember the last time they were drawn side by side but I think it's been a little while.

I've already noticed many people have pointed out that Saeyoung is wearing a ring. It's a little bit silly that he's wearing it over his glove, but I have to admit that is something he would do if this were his timeline. He is proud of the fact that he gets to live in this world, and he's even happier to know that he has somebody by his side who understands him more than anyone else. He's definitely that guy who doesn't stop talking about his partner because he's so in love. 

Zen with roses is something I've come to expect because he's also a traditional romantic. Red roses are the best way to captivate someone with your love and it’s no surprise that he follows that path. It might seem a little cliche but who is he if not somebody who loves romantic cliches? He is that guy who would watch romcoms with you all day long regardless of your relationship status with him, he just gets it.

I don't know how I feel about him wearing glasses since he doesn't seem like a glasses guy, but maybe if I saw him in sunglasses I might be able to rationalize this better. He's wearing a stylized pair here and I think it's the gold that's throwing me off. If it was silver, I don't think I would feel as perplexed by how I feel because silver fits him better as that's typically what he chooses for himself.  

Controversial thing to say every time I say it, but I have to tell you guys that Jihyun is still my third favorite character in the game, and I really don’t mind when Saeran and V are drawn together. I recognize that they do this because those two are tied together as the leads of Another Story, just as the core five, meaning Yoosung, Zen, Jaehee, Jumin, and Seven are drawn together.

But, to me, seeing Jihyun with everyone makes me feel like there is a timeline where V did the right thing for everyone and asked for help at the first sign of trouble instead of continually shooting himself in the foot. A lot of the art that's drawn with V included is self-indulgent and can only exist as true fanservice because it would never be true in most routes of the game. 

Normally, I would expect him to look exasperated in art like this but he seems to be fairly confident which is a good change for Jihyun. I’ll take it! 

I have no idea what they're doing here, did they choreograph a song and dance? They aren't the most coordinated members of the group so that makes me want to laugh. It's sweet, but I have a huge feeling they're going to trip over each other if not on their own feet. Saeran is as cute as always, I could talk about him for hours.

Seeing him as a butler always takes me back to when Ray said he would be happy to be your butler in a huge mansion. That was utterly indicative of the fact he was willing to become subservient to you if it meant you would stick around. That’s what the first bad ending is all about. Unfortunately, he thought so poorly of himself that he would be willing to make himself nothing more than something for you to push around if that's what you wanted. 

At least, in this context, he's doing it because he wants to make you happy, sure, but it's not something he's doing to make sure you stick around, he knows you'll still be there no matter what because he doesn't have to work himself to the bone to prove he's worthy of your companionship. 

I don't know if anybody picked this up but the painting is in homage to the anniversary image from two years ago. Rika was in the painting that time, and this time around, it's MC.

I do think it's worth noting that they are playing with light and dark imagery which is to be expected in a game that takes a lot of cues for religious imagery. Rika and MC are always bathed in white and black, light and dark, true contrast.

They're both wearing a dress that goes off of the shoulders, the only difference being the color and the style. MC has a more sleek pattern and Rika is bathed in ruffles. Rika’s seems to be more constrained and MC’s a little more loose around the edges. MC is free to make choices one way or the other by pushing outward, and Rika makes choices that go against her best interest as she pulls inward. I think another CG that plays on this is the BE from V Route.

Love her or hate her, there are important parallels at play here. 

In conclusion, Rika has always been like this in official art and I don't know what to tell you.

[teecupangel]

I wonder if you’ve ever thought about like, a glitch or a virus in the Animus accidentally causing all the playable ancestors to become self-aware and sentient. I kind of like the idea of them realizing they’re all essentially kinda stuck in the Animus servers and then banding together to essentially blow up Abstergo. hell, maybe Desmond is the reason why they’re all sentient, something about the Apple and the Eye started doing weird things to the samples they took from him so now the ancestors have to find his consciousness!

also I am ngl I think it would be very funny for them to occasionally be able to break into each other’s simulations for various purposes. Edward popping into the American Revolutionary War to say hi to his kid and grandkid. Jacob and Evie and Henry in Constantinople. Altaïr rolling around in the Caribbean, god help this poor non-swimmer.

(and maybe once they’ve gotten him out of wherever he’s been stashed Desmond can teach these guys how to like actually get into Abstergo’s servers and start ruining their lives?)

Ooooohhh, this would be fun and, considering which company Abstergo partnered with to develop the Animus games, this could have just as easily happened because bugs had always been part of the course when it concerned the games they have published.

It might have been a flaw in the Animus game console itself, simply because they had developed a ‘console’ that either didn’t require that the user be related to the genetic memory at all (which had been necessary to stabilize and synchronize with the memories) or they had included a ‘data set’ that includes the DNA origin to stabilize and synchronize with the memories (which meant that they were dealing with a setup they had not fully checked yet (considering Black Flag’s modern day setting was set in 2013 and was released before Rogue’s modern day setting in 2014, that would mean that their Animus iteration had to have been developed and send to Abstergo Entertainment with Sample 17’s data in a year or less).

Also, also, we have seen how ‘viruses’ can interact with the Abstergo games. Liberation’s secret ending which shows the ‘scenes’ that Abstergo tried to remove so that it seemed like Aveline joined the Templar Order in the end could only be accessed by finding a specific NPC in the game in various memory blocks.

So, in this scenario, the whole ‘non-canon character’ popping into other games could have happened during development BUT the Animus game they ship was meant to copy the memory blocks that research analysts got in development so those small inconsistencies could have happened during their breaks or flat-out during a time when no one was using the Animus at all.

The easter eggs (or some fans like to call them “too unrealistic and plain fanservice”) would be included in all the copies of their specific games those games only had minor tweaks to ensure they won’t crash (and have DRMs, I guess) and lesser time for Q&A because, let’s face it, they needed to cut costs somewhere before they were shipped off to ensure they had a yearly release.

It became just a normal part of the charm of these games and Abstergo is just going “Yes, it’s meant to show that we are all connected no matter how many centuries we are from one another!” but internally there are memos going “WHY DOES THIS KEEP HAPPENING???”.

Also, also…

We should set up some kind of timeline, I guess?

Because, as far as we can be sure, the only confirmed games that Abstergo Entertainment released are the following:

Liberations (based on Liberation with Aveline) - Prior to 2013

Pirates of Nightmares (based on Black Flag with Edward) - Around 2013 (also has a movie version called Devils of the Caribbean)

Note: We do not have any confirmation that they released any games based on Shay Cormac and, honestly, with how much Shay’s defection hinged on the power of the artifact (which they had probably had to cut out since they were going for ‘realism’), any games based on Rogue would probably need a lot of cuts and edits. They might have just, you know, given up on that in the end.

Buuuuutttt we have confirmation of these games as having been published prior to Arno Dorian’s memories being checked:

Not counting the three on the bottom which we don’t really have any information about, this means that we have confirmation that the following have been released (and, in Edward’s and Aveline’s case, this could have been a re-release ala HD remastered style which Liberation did get in the PS4 era):

Altaïr

Shao Jun

Ezio (also, it’s just sooo Abstergo to go for ‘Fear and Loathing in Florence’, a reference to AC2, but use Ezio’s Brotherhood robes… soooo like Abstergo to use the Brotherhood!Ezio model)

Ratonhnhaké:ton

Aveline

Edward

BUT then you also get

Jacques De Molay

Rodrigo Borgia

Haytham Kenway

This means that if you want the Animus servers' data to be sentient then you can make at least these three Templars sentient as well if you wish to add more conflict to the entire thing.

Now, if we keep the supposed release date with the idea that they released it as Aveline → Edward → Altaïr → Shao Jun → Ezio → Ratonhnhaké:ton → HD releases (or maybe Helix is meant to be a collection like the real-world example of Ezio Trilogy or Rebels Collection)

Then what can happen is that Aveline is the first one to ‘wake up’ and she finds herself in the Caribbean, waking up on Edward’s ship. She tries to ask where she is and her appearance caused Edward to snap out of the ‘Animus control’ and gain sentient.

Then they decide to try and find out where they are via the Jackdaw, sailing her beyond the supposed walls of this place they find themselves in.

It’s during their travels and checking the strange ports (imagine lots of glitching + the entire vibe of Animus Island back in Revelations with each map turned into an island so this means that landlocked maps like Florence and Monteriggioni are now islands) that they see an Assassin taking down a target at the port before running away. They give chase and that’s how they meet Altaïr in Acre docks. Their appearance snapped Altaïr into gaining sentient but not just that…

He remembers up to his death, unlike Aveline who remembers up to her wedding night and Edward who remembers up to a night with Tessa.

No.

Altaïr knows more about where they are than he should.

And that’s when he sees it.

A figure walking the streets of Acre, walking further and further away from them, clad in white that did not belong in his time.

Altaïr gives chase and the two followed him because Altaïr knows more than them, that was for sure.

Altaïr still loses him but he feels like he knows that figure… knows it’s a man and he’s important.

He points at Edward as he says, “Important to both of us.”

But he also knows the man isn’t here in the island composed of Altaïr’s memories anymore.

And Aveline and Edward get a crash course of who they truly are (digital construct of the memories of long-dead Assassins) and where they are. The where is more confusing because Altaïr uses words like “the Animus must always be online to connect to the servers”, “this is the server that has all the data of all researched and analyzed memories”, etc but Edward just summarized it as “prison created by Templars, right?”

“In a way.”

So they board the Jackdaw to try and find an exit and to find this supposed man that was important to Altaïr and Edward.

Along the way, they docked in a port that ends with them waking up Shao Jun as she’s running away from those hunting her. She remembered that this was the memory where her mentor told her to find Ezio Auditore and Altaïr thinks he knows the name.

“But I know of a different name for him as well… Prophet. He was… He was the prophet of that man.”

Shao Jun joins them and she recognized Florence so they docked there and they find Ezio who was looking for feathers.

Ezio stares at Altaïr for a moment then he stares behind Altaïr, his eyes going wild. Altaïr immediately knew what he was looking at he quickly turned around.

This time, the figure was running the rooftops of Florence and the two gave chase, making the rest run after them.

During the chase, Ezio shouts, “Desmond!” and the figure stopped and turned around.

Before they could see his face, a flock of birds flew between them, and the man was gone.

They reached where they last saw the man and Ezio recognized it.

This… was where he and Federico wished that their lives would not change… the day before Ezio’s entire life turned upside down.

With Ezio becoming part of their crew, Ezio had the same information as Altaïr. He knows who he is, where they are, and what they truly are.

But his memories end after seeing Altaïr’s remains underneath Masyaf.

And… he also has his Apple.

Altaïr sees the Apple and realized…

He opened his pouch and, yes…

He has an Apple as well.

So Ezio joined them too and they continue to sail Jackdaw. (If you’d like Adéwalé to be sentient as well even if we have no confirmation that Abstergo profited from his memories as well, this would be a good time to do it)

This time, they get into a naval combat with an unknown ship and Edward is enjoying himself. The ship was beautiful and whoever was in command knew what they were doing.

So Edward decided to ram it and they’d all pile onto the other ship. The crew wouldn’t be able to win against 5 Assassins after all.

But the moment they rammed the ship, both of their ships began to glitch just as they hear a man with a British accent shout, “How is it you came to captain a ship, given the way you sail?”

When the glitching stopped, the Jackdaw looked like it had absorbed the other ship, creating a new ship that seemed to be a merged version of the two.

And there was an Assassin on board that they didn’t know. An Assassin holding an Apple and… he was looking to their right.

Where a lone island filled with buildings taller than any towers they had ever seen could be seen just before the horizon.

The Assassin pointed at the island and turned to face Edward as he said, “He’s waiting for us there… grandfather.”

(If you want Haytham to gain sentient, he’s in the captain’s quarters and he’d open the door a few seconds later with a splitting headache, telling Ratonhnhaké:ton his sailing is shit then stop when he sees Edward. Cue awkward family reunion)

Other Unorganized Notes:

I’m sorry I couldn’t include Jacob, Evie, and Henry, nonny. :(

This was focused on the idea that the Abstergo servers mainly have data of the published ‘games’ while the memories still being researched are in another more secured private server.

Although, considering that Arno and the Frye twins were more ‘modified’ by the Assassins, maybe they could come in as a virus before Edward and the others meet Ratonhnhaké:ton. I think it would be a change of pace if Arno and the Fryes (with Jayadeep) know more than the ‘old guards’. Hell, they could say “We hitched a ride with the virus Erudito sent to find Sample 17 because the public noticed he always makes an appearance as an NPC in all the games so the Assassins think that he’s somewhere here.” “He’s not 17. His name is Desmond.” “Right, didn’t mean to offend anybody.”