#hello again I am making myself cry today

[reliablejoukido]

Jou Kido is in his second year of resident training and hasn’t been sleeping in weeks. Months, maybe? Years? They blended together depressingly. He wonders how everyone else in his program can handle it… and all he wants to do is… anything but this. He’s so, so tired.

One day a young woman, maybe 17 or 18, is rushed into the hospital after a car accident. Jou is shadowing the ER doc who is in charge of taking care of her. Before he enters the woman’s room, the ER doc rushes out and yells:

“Figure this thing out, Kido!”

Jou enters the room. The ER doc and some other staff are taking care of the woman. The doctor points to a chair in the corner of the room. And there Jou sees a Digimon, bloodied, partially wrapped in sheets. He’s never seen this Digimon before— it looks like a snow-white weasel with a ring around its neck similar to Tailmon’s

Jou doesn’t even pause to think. He stops the Digimon’s bleeding after a while, and he notices blue data particles inside the wound. He doesn’t know if this means the Digimon is dying or healing, but he hopes it’s the latter.

The woman survives, and so does the Digimon. Jou checks on them when the woman is awake. He immediately goes to change the Digimon’s bandages and notices the particles are gone from the wound— that it’s completely healed itself.

“Are you Kudamon’s doctor?” The woman asks. “I didn’t know there were Digimon doctors in this hospital, but I’m SO glad you were here!”

“Oh, I’m not…”

The woman stared at him tearfully, gratefully.

He wanted to say: “there’s no such thing as a Digimon doctor” but the words died on his tongue. All Jou could think about since that injured Digimon came in was what those data particles were and how he could study them. Why had they appeared only after he tended to the Digimon’s wound, and not before?

He leaves the hospital that night thinking hard on how difficult it must be for chosen children to understand their Digimon’s physiology. To know when their Digimon partners are sick or injured. Nobody on Earth, or at least Japan, cared about Digimon medicine.

But Jou could.

He spends his one free day off that week writing a proposal to his residency program, to let him do something that probably sounded crazy to them. But it was worth a shot, wasn’t it?

Jou wakes up the next morning to a Digi-egg sitting on his nightstand, and it’s warm to the touch

[themultifanshipper]

Hello.

I have a question to ask. Are you up for a honeymoon fic Landoscar? With a lot of spicy things, hehe.

<3

When Oscar and Lando had woken up severely hungover that first morning after getting married at the Vegas GP, they knew they had made the right choice.

The only problem was how the hell they were going to go on their honeymoon without arousing suspicion.

Gonna go waterboard myself in holy water now brb

Warnings: Lando makes Oscar cry, but in a sexy way, sunburns, handjob, that’s it that's the plot, under negotiated everything, edging, Oscar being in denial, cum, facial, they're both fucking freaks

They got married on 20/11/2023 at 4:12 AM in the little Vegas Chapel after the Grand Prix. It was perfect (they barely remembered it) and the only people there were Alex and Logan (the best men) and the priest (who they had to track down later and make him sign an NDA).

All in all a brilliant night.

And the proof of consummation was… well, all over them and the sheets when they woke up.

How fucking romantic.

It was now a year on from that and they still hadn't been on their honeymoon.

They were determined though. But being in the public eye made any vacationing together quite hard.

So they decided to wait. Wait long enough that if they were seen, it would be reasonable to assume it was just a mates trip to a private Island.

They were currently on said private Island one morning, limbs tangled on a sunbed, sipping some pretty strong cocktails.

“What do you want to do today?”

“I don't care as long as I'm with you”

They giggled and a slap resounded on the empty beach.

“I hate you”

“That's not what you were saying last night when I had you-”

“Okay okay! I get it!”

Disgusting.

After another hour of lounging around, Lando untangled his limbs from Oscar's and got up to get more drinks.

“You want anoth- holy shit Osc!”

His eyes widened as he turned and took in his husband’s (he'd never get tired of saying that) appearance.

“What?” Oscar sat up, confused.

Oscar’s front was a similar shade of red as a lobster, the contrast in skin between his front and back making him look like a vanilla strawberry ice cream.

“Oscar you-” Lando couldn't contain his laughter “you forgot to put cream on again!”

Lando put his hand on Oscar's thigh and Oscar gasped in pain.

“Shit baby we need to go put something on that, let's go”

Oscar ended up laying on his back while Lando straddled his midsection and rubbed Aloe over his face and chest.

“Ah!” he hissed as a hand went over a patch of particularly red skin “careful where you put your bear paws!”

Lando laughed and squirted some more cream on his hands.

“Sorry baby, but it needs to be done. Besides you love my bear paws, especially when I put them on your-”

“Jesus, do you ever shut up!” Oscar laughed and Lando gasped at his meanness.

“Don't be mean to me when I'm helping you out!”

Oscar’s hands came up to cup Lando's ass over his shorts and squeeze lightly.

“You love it when I'm mean though, don't lie.”

“Oh yeah?” Lando smiled playfully “I can be mean too you know”

Oscar couldn't help the snort that escaped him. “Yeah right, I'll believe that when I see it, you’re just too sweet”

“I am not!” he tried to defend but Oscar just laughed at him “You just haven't seen my bad side, yet”

Oscar cackled and shot a look of disbelief at Lando.

Lando raised his eyebrows in challenge and shuffled backwards onto Oscar's thighs, making sure to rub against his crotch on the way.

“Shut up and let me finish putting the cream on” he scowled as he squirted a load straight onto Oscar's hot skin moodily.

“Aw… are you getting stroppy now because I laughed at you, baby?” Oscar cooed, hands reaching for Lando but he slapped them away.

“Touche me, or say another word, and I stop completely, understand?”

Oscar nodded, eyebrows almost fused with his hairline at Lando's harsh tone.

“And we'll see just how fucking mean I can be” the older man growled.

Well shit.

Lando quickly rubbed cream over Oscar's burns, before sitting back and ordering him to take his shorts off.

“Pardon?” Oscar wasn't used to being ordered around.

“If I have to repeat myself then I'll take them off, and I’m not going to be gentle”

That's a point, Oscar thought. He didn't want to take any chances with the burns so he peeled them off himself, making sure to give his skin a wide birth.

Once settled back into the sheets, Lando grabbed more cream and started rubbing it around Oscar's crotch, which was unnecessary given that the skin there was free of burns thanks to his shorts. But Lando apparently decided to turn this into a massage, because he was digging his thumbs into Oscar’s flesh, hard enough to make him groan at the feeling.

Then he dug his thumbs into Oscar's adductor muscles and the younger man yelped and stared daggers at him.

“What's the matter, baby?” Lando asked mockingly, “Am I going too hard for you?”

His eyes were inviting him to a challenge, one he knew Oscar wouldn't back down from.

Oscar shook his head, remembering Lando's warning from before, and quickly settled back down.

This was a new side to Lando. And it was getting Oscar a bit hot and bothered as his husband just carried on massaging/torturing him. The idea of being at his husband's mercy was turning him on enormously.

His dick twitched against his stomach and Lando chuckled.

“Careful Osc, one could think being submissive is turning you on” his voice was full of mirth but Oscar refused to acknowledge him, and stared at the ceiling while shaking his head.

“No? Must be mistaken then”

He continued along Oscar's groin, massaging the cream in and rubbing him in all the right places.

When Lando cupped his balls and pressed on his perineum at the same time, Oscar let out a strangled gasp.

He was dripping, he could feel it. But he refused to give Lando the satisfaction of asking him to touch him.

“You want me to stop Osc?” Lando had a teasing lilt to his voice. Oscar shook his head.

“If you want me to touch you all you have to do is be a good boy and say ‘please”

But Oscar, by some twisted sense of ego, refused to give in so he didn't answer.

Lando laughed softly and ran a finger up Oscar's cock, making the younger man shudder and his hips buck up of their own volition.

“That looks painful, Osc”

“Then fucking touch it”

Lando’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Not until you say please”

“Please” Oscar huffed out.

Lando tutted. “That wasn't very convincing, Osc.” His fingers ran along the tip and back down over his balls, but Oscar just about managed to stay impassive. He looked right into Lando's eyes.

“If you want me to say please you're going to have to do better than that”

Lando grinned like a Cheshire cat.

“Oh honey, I'm not going to stop until you're begging”

The look in his eyes was predatory and Oscar almost caved then and there.

But on principal, Oscar did not beg.

Cut to about 30 minutes later and Oscar was whimpering into his arm as Lando placed kitten licks on his dripping tip.

“Still not desperate enough to say please?”

Oscar just growled “nope” but it was so strained Lando barely heard it.

“Fine, maybe I need to try a different approach, then”

Oscar looked on as Lando grabbed the cream and squirted some straight onto Oscar’s cock.

Oscar hissed at the cold, but it was nothing compared to the feeling of Lando's large hand engulfing his cock and immediately starting a fast, tight, pace.

Oscar was writhing at the sudden intense pleasure after so long being teased, and he was having trouble getting air in his lungs as he hurdled towards an orgasm in record time.

His toes curled and his back arched as he felt the orgasm creep up his spine.

But just like that the feeling was replaced by a very tight hold around the base of his cock, the release his body craved ripped away from him.

“No! Lan-”

“Shhh, baby” Lando cooed “It's okay, I’ve got you”

While Oscar slowly came down from his almost-release, Lando reapplied some cream to make the slide as wet as possible, then proceeded to start stroking Oscar at the same pace as before, this time adding extra pressure.

Oscar was openly whining now, hands gripping the sheets so hard it’s shocking they weren't tearing.

“Now, I'm going to do that over and over again until you’re a good boy for me, okay”

Oscar couldn't contain the whine that came out of his mouth. He was getting close again and his eyes were filling up with tears at the white hot pleasure.

“Please” he let out a broken sob as his thighs started clenching with his impending orgasm.

“Oh you can do better than that, Osc” Lando’s pace didn't falter.

“Fuck- please Lan, I'll do anything. I need to come so bad, please, please. Please don't stop…” he was openly sobbing now, tears running down his cheeks as he took shuddering breaths.

He was so beautiful and pliant like this, Lando was unbelievably hard. He took pity on him and allowed him to come, other hand going to massage his balls for good measure.

“Good boy, Oscar. You can come now, go on.”

Oscar screamed as he came, hot spurts of his come landing over his abs and all the way up to his chin.

The sight of him, covered in his own cum, flush deepening the red of his burns, gasping for air, almost made Lando come on the spot.

He shuffled over to Oscar's head and pushed his shorts down to jerk himself off furiously.

“Open your mouth, tongue out” he ordered, grabbing Oscar’s jaw and aiming for his tongue.

It took him no time at all to come, and most of it landed on Oscar's cheeks and chin. It was absolutely sinful, the way his face was streaked with come, tongue hanging out, eyes unfocused, he looked like a sick man's dream.

Fortunately, Lando was a sick man.

“Shit Osc, I can't believe it took me this long to find out you’re a good little slut when you want to be”

Oscar took a long time to reply, trying to regulate his breathing.

When he finally did, a low growl came from his side of the bed.

“As soon as I get the feeling back in my legs, I'm going to fuck you until the sun sets, and I'm not giving you any breaks, no matter how many times you come”

Lando glanced at the clock.

It was only 1 pm…

Shit.

[starringthesturniolos]

baby it's cold outside - chris sturniolo

summary: you are forced to share the air mattress with your long time enemy, chris, on a camping trip.

"Since you two wanted to argue the whole way up, you guys get to share a tent together. Yay!!", Matt says while jumping up and down in fake excitement.

On the way to the camp site, Chris and I did argue a lot. But in my defense, the idiot kept pushing my buttons! He kept turning my least favorite songs on and blasting them at full volume so I couldn't sleep. When we stopped at 7/11 he grabbed the last of my favorite drink and gulped it down in front of me. When we finally arrived, he dumped all my heavy bags on the ground and laughed at me struggling to pick them up. It was like he was asking to get yelled at, or like he wanted me to be mad at him.

"No, Matt please!" I grab onto his arm desperately. "I'm sorry but please don't make me stay with him!"

Matt rolls his eyes at me and folds his arms over his chest. "Would you rather sleep outside then?" I scoff and shoot a glare towards Chris who isn't standing too far behind Matt. "Yeah, sounds about right."

"Sleep outside then. That's fine by me, princess." Chris sneers responding to my comment while turning his back on me to set up his tent. I take three deep breathes and close my eyes. I am not going to let this idiot keep getting under my skin. I stomp away from Matt and Chris over to the log Nick was sitting on and he laughs at me.

"Well hello, Mrs. Grumpy"

"Oh shut up" you sigh.

I plop my bag down on the floor, my chest heaving from hauling ass. I had to carry my heavy bags all the way from where Chris dropped them earlier today to the tent. He was laying all comfortable in his set up of blankets and the sight alone pissed me off.

"Thought you were sleeping outside tonight. Is it because you're scared of the animals, princess?" he sneers out the nickname like I'm more of an ogre than a princess. Why is he always so fucking annoying.

"Leave me alone, and I leave you alone. I'm going to bed. I'm tired and I'm not here for the bullshit." I say as I reach into my bag for my sleeping bag. My sleeping bag. Holy shit.

"Shit, shit, shit" you dump out your bag and see no sleeping bag in sight. Its cold out and the thought of sleeping without any covering made a shiver crawl down your spine.

"What is it now??" Chris sits up and turns the flashlight on in an exasperated manner. You sigh deeply. "It's nothing, go to bed Chris." He shrugs and lies down again, turning his back to me. I didn't need to give him another reason to tease me tonight. I flop on the ground on the opposite side of the tent from him and curl up into a ball. I can feel myself shivering but I try to ignore it.

Thinking back on when I first met the triplets in 3rd grade, I remember how cute I thought Chris was. I met Nick and Matt on the bus ride home from school one day when Chris was sick. The next day, me, Matt, and Nick were playing tag at recess when Chris walked out with a doctors note in hand. He walked over to his brothers and my heart skipped a beat. Immediately, Nick and Matt went to introduce me. "Chris! This is-" before Nick could even finish his sentence, Chris was already talking. "Well, isn't she a looker" he chuckles sarcastically while looking down at me, clearly judging me. I also looked down at my two loose braids and hand me down clothes and sigh. "Am I really that ugly" I thought to myself. I knew I probably shouldn't have let a boy that I hardly knew opinion get to me, but the tears came nonetheless." I wanted him to like me" you thought to yourself, wallowing in self pity. I was cut out of my trance when Chris started to laugh sporadically. "What? What is it?" I mutter looking at Chris and then too Matt and Nick who look embarrassed by their brothers rude antics. "Nothing, nothing. Its just... You're even uglier when you cry!" he starts laughing even harder. I felt myself start to shake from embarrassment and anger. Who did he think he was. "Your mean!" I stomped my foot which only made him laugh harder. I couldn't take anymore harassment in one day, and turned on my heel and ran away with Nick and Matt right on my heels.

After all these years he still hasn't changed. "Y/N, HELLO!!" Chris yells bringing me back to the present. "What?".

"Where the fuck is your sleeping bag?" he asks. I sit up from where I was laying to face him. He was now laying down with his body faced in my direction.

"Oh my God, clearly not here or I'd be using it, dumbass." I roll my eyes and go to lay back down.

"Lose the attitude and come stay in the bed with me" he mutters before I can return to my balled up position. My mouth flys open. Since when did he care if I was cold or not. "Wait, what?" I say in shock.

"Get the fuck up and come here. Nick and Matt will punch me in the throat if you catch a cold." he says nonchalantly as if it's normal for people that hate each other to share a bed. I roll my eyes again. I'm not sharing a bed with an asshole, even if it causes me to freeze to death. "No thanks" I scoff, preparing to lay back down again.

He sighs exasperated and moves from his comfortable position in his blankets. He stands up and starts walking towards me. I feel my throat start to tense up. "What are you doing?" fear creeping into my tone. Once he reaches me, he grips underneath my thighs with one hand and tries to support my back with the other. Desperately, I try to wiggle out of his grasp but too no avail. I am in his arms in no time. It takes everything in me to not sink into his warm chest. I didn't realize how cold I was until this exact moment. Suddenly I start to panic again when he starts to walk because I have no idea where he's taking me. Then I think of the worst. "Are you seriously gonna throw me out the tent. Come on Chris, do you really hate me that much??"

He stops moving entirely and he looks down at me. God the way he looks looking down at me is enough to be in any girls dream. Too bad he's just a big dickhead. "You weren't listening to me. So now I'm forcing you to stay with me on the air mattress." he pauses before continuing, almost like he doesn't want to say what he's going to say next. He sighs and continues on, "You were shivering really bad while you were in La La land. I didn't want you too freeze anymore." He had a glimmer of concern in eyes when he said it and that's all it takes for me to believe him. I hate the way my cheeks warm up from the honest confession. It meant he cared, and it shouldn't matter to me but it does.

He starts to walk again, seeing I had no response and plops me down on the mattress. He flops down right beside me, and even though it's warmer with the blankets, it's not enough. Another shiver racks through me. "Y/n??" Chris doesn't even try to hide the concern in his voice. "Do you need me closer? Will that help?" he looks at me waiting for my call. The thought of Chris getting close to me is enough to make my head spin. And as much as I wish being in Chris' arms would repeal me, it doesn't. Instead I feel my heart skip a beat like they did all those years ago. Get it together Y/n.

"Yes" I whisper. Chris doesn't need to be told twice and he pulls me impossibly close to his body. He grabs my thigh and puts it around his waist and then pulls my head into his chest. All I can sense is him. Instead of it annoying me, I lean into his scent and his warmth. In my heart I know that even if it was the hottest night of all time, I'd still enjoy being wrapped in him like this. And I hated myself for it. I melt into his arms and feel myself getting lulled to sleep. Just as I'm about to fall asleep I feel his lips graze my hair. " I could never hate you, angel, not in a million years. I'm sorry". And with those words, I fall asleep in his arms.

Send in request, I could always use some more inspo

Love, Mya

[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!💞

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

hey maggots PLEASE CALM DOWN ONE MOMENT PRESS CONFERENCE.

Okay. Have we stopped screaming? Okay, nice. *taps mic* Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your--I mean, hi, Good Omens fandom and maggots. I was going to make a new intro post eventually, but after you all flattened my notes with eldritch screeching I think a press conference is more fitting. Especially considering the phrasing of these beauties:

Maggots I love you but look me in the eyes and tell me you're not journalists reporting straight to the Times, with full honesty. You cannot. The how do you feel about this is only missing several microphones with news outlet names all in my face and that's wonderful. Entirely valid. Press conference time it is.

First, for those of you who do not need a Q and A, a quick note: Um hello maggots, yes I am still grieving, cheers to the people who queued sad Good Omens posts for the exact time I finished watching. That is dedication, truly, to torturing your mascot. A most sincere fuck you to all of those kind folks.

Next, Neil, thank you for showcasing my madness. I barely remember making that updated post. It was 2 am and I tried to convince myself it was a bad idea. So of course I did it anyway and now I am staring in horror at how unhinged I have revealed myself to be. You picked the most perfectly awful time to delve into the fray. I raise my glass to you.

Alright. For everyone else who is utterly confused and/or has just entered this madness, below is the press conference you have instigated, my loves.

You: ASMI WAKE UP NEIL REBLOGGED YOU. Me: I'M AWAKE I PROMISE THANK YOU ALL THE TWENTY ODD PEOPLE WHO SHOUTED FOR ME TO WAKE UP, YES I WAS NAPPING. BUT I AM AWAKE. IT IS DIFFICULT NOT TO BE. You: HOW DOES IT FEEL BEING LESS THAN A MONTH IN THE FANDOM AND-- Me: I was kidnapped, so with the blindfold and all the ropes, I'll be honest, I lost track of time. It could have been less than a month. *stares into distance* It could have been eighty years since Jan 4th 2024. You: YOU'RE AN ADOPTIVE MAGGOT. Me: Now hang on one second y'all you're stealing my term. I coined maggots to describe all the people, in the Good Omens fandom or otherwise, who kidnapped me or followed me or watched me descend into madness. Why? Because I was made the Mascot of the fandom, and Maggot sounded like Mascot. Kind of. I didn't know at that time that there was a bloody maggot scene in Good Omens. I also didn't know that apparently in the Bible, Bildad the Shuite calls mortals 'maggots'. But either way. I'm the adopted mascot. And the adopted child of divorce. You: If people who follow you or watch your descent are maggots, does that make Neil a maggot? Me: Uh okay I've got this question several times. @neil-gaiman, Neil I'm sorry, I'm going to pass this question to you. You are free to reply or not as you choose. *hands one of the mics over* You: ARE YOU OKAY, ASMI? Me: THANK YOU FOR CHECKING IN. *clutches Crowley even closer* NO I AM BLOODY NOT. I'M ON DAY FOUR OF GRIEVING AFTER THE SECOND SEASON. ANY MENTION OF POTTED PLANTS MAKES ME EMOTIONAL. THE GOOD OMENS BOOK IS ARRIVING TODAY IN THE MAIL, THANKS JEFF BEZOS FOR AMAZON. OH WAIT AMAZON IS THE STREAMER FOR GOOD OMENS. THANKS BEZOS AGAIN. IF I HEAR THE WORDS RITZ, EDINBURGH, PLANT, RED, BLACK, DEMON, HELL, STARS, CONSTELLATIONS, ESPRESSO, I WILL START TO UGLY CRY. *SHOVES MICS ASIDE, RUNS THROUGH THE CROWD TO GO SOB IN A CORNER ABOUT CROWLEY IN EDINBURGH NEXT TO ELSPETH AND WEE MORAG UNTIL THE GOOD OMENS BOOK ARRIVES AND I CRY OVER MY BABY ANTICHRIST AS WELL*

Cheers everyone conference over because your poor Good Omens Mascot is currently incapacitated with grief goodbye I'm sure you understand--

[devilishchaos]

BABYYY drop the daddy Ruben fic, don't be shy <3

Calls | Dad!Rúben Dias imagine

Rating / genre: pure fluff

Pairings: Reader x Rúben Dias

Summary: Rúben goes on a business trip. Me and our son George are sad he is away, so we face time him.

Warnings: use of pet names "babe", "baby"

Word Count: 1 347 words

This is a work of fiction. The story, names, characters and incidents either are product or the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

While begging my husband to go on this 3 day business trip, I thought to myself "What can happen in the span of 3 days, right?"  Well, a lot. 

I'm currently 27 weeks pregnant with twins and have a year and a half year old baby-toddler that needs my attention 24/7. Not that I am complaining but the pregnancy alone is being hard on me and my beautiful son throwing constant tantrums about missing his dad doesn't help my situation. Now, I was usually the preferred parent, but George had the tendency to not want to eat and nap while Rúben was away.

Today was going to be a long and hard day for me, I just knew it. I woke up from my nap at 7:00 am, got ready and headed to wake George up because I had an appointment with my OBGYN in an hour and had no one to look after him while I was gone, so I had to take him with me. 

It was a battle but I somehow managed to get him ready for the day, made it to my appointment safely and on time and both of us were back in the coziness of our household before we knew it. 

The moment we stepped through the door - the nausea hit me. And my head started spinning. I somehow made it to the bedroom and laid down on the bed and tried to take deep breaths in hopes for it to go away faster. I closed your eyes for a second and out of nowhere a loud cry pierced the silence. 

With eyes wide open, all my senses on alert, I sat up in the bed and looked at the door to see George standing there, tears falling from his eyes and his tiny hands holding his favorite stuffed animal close to his chest. 

"What happened baby? Are you okay?" I asked, holding out my hands in his direction. 

"Dada.." he managed to say in between wheezing. 

I gave him a sad knowing look. Ever since he was born he was a mama's boy but ever since I got pregnant again he looked up to Rúben more and more, and wanted to do everything that he was doing whether it was directed towards me or other people. And Rúben was the happiest person on earth, soaking in every moment because he knew that it could be taken away from him just as fast as it came. 

"You miss daddy, huh bud?" I softly asked as I helped him get up on the bed to join me. 

He nodded, the movement making his tiny curls shake a little. 

"How about we call him? Would that make you feel better?" 

"Yeah.." George mumbled, while wiping his eyes.

I was already reaching for my phone before I got an answer from him. Since Rúben is in New York and we are in Manchester there is a 5 hour time difference, but it was now way after noon in Manchester and knowing Rúben, he had been awake for some time, so that's why I suggested calling him. Okay and maybe because I miss him too and want to talk to him, but that's another topic. 

I dialed his contact and gave George the phone. After two rings I saw Rúben's gorgeous face and he saw a head full of curls and two big dark eyes watching closely the screen, since George held the phone so close to him. 

"Hey, gorg-" your husband started "-oh, hello big man. What are you doing with mama's phone?" you saw him smiling widly. 

"Dada, miss you." George said and started crying again. 

"Oh, no. Don't cry buddy. I miss you so much too." 

"Home." 

"I'm coming home tomorrow, baby and I'm not going anywhere after that, okay?" Rúben asked as a sad smile made its way on his face. 

"Home now?" George asked as he tilted his head slightly the exact same way Rúben does and it made your heart throb. 

"I wish buddy, but I have one more thing to do and then I promise I'm gonna catch the first flight back home and I'm coming straight to you. But I need you to do something for me, okay. You have to eat lunch and dinner, and you have to go to sleep when mommy says. Can you do that for me? That way I'm going to come home faster. Do we have a deal, G?" Rúben asked, slightly raising his eyebrows. 

"A deal.." his son responded while rubbing his eye "Now play." 

"Okay, you can go and play now. Loves you." your husband said as he leaned into the camera and kissed it, your guys's little tradition that now George did too. 

"Loves you." George said cutely and kissed your front camera. He gave you the phone and ran out of your bedroom and into his playroom. 

I took the phone and positioned it against my big water bottle in front of me as I greeted my hansome husband "Hi, meu amor." 

"Hey, mama. How are you holding up? Big man giving you a hard time?" Rúben asked you giving you sad eyes. 

"He just misses you." I exhaled "Nothing changed after the call yesterday, we're going to see what happens today. I miss you too, tho. We miss you too." I simply explained rubbing my round belly.  

"I'm sorry babe. I miss all of you. Can't wait to be back home. I'm never leaving again." he shook his head as to make it more believable.

"Rúben, we talked about this. What you're doing right now is for your career and for us. So that you can take more time off while the twins come, just as you did when we welcomed George. Don't feel guilty, you're not doing anything wrong, babe. We'll get through this. We have to. In fact it's almost over." I smiled at him trying to lighten the mood. 

"This is why I made you my wife. Eu te amo muito." Rúben said looking lovingly at the screen in front of him. 

"I love you more." 

"Period." he said while snapping his fingers, which made both of you to start giggling.

"Stop. I'm gonna pee my pants!" I said in between laughing. 

"Okay, okay. So how did the appointment go? Everything alright?" Rúben's face went completely serious in a spare of seconds. 

"Yes. Babies are doing just fine." I said and took a breathing break "I however, am struggling. Babe, I'm 27 weeks into this pregnancy and do you know what my doctor told me? That I'm measuring full term compared to a singleton pregnancy. That's very overwhelming considering that I hopefully have 8 or 9, 10 weeks left in the absolute ideal case scenario. And technically I am still 6 months pregnant. At the very end of my 6th month. Can you believe this?" I looked at him with a questioning face. 

Rúben's eyes went wide "Wow." 

"Wow indeed. I mean..that's what I get for having children with a freaking giant, I guess." 

"Hey. You looooove this giant. And the babies that you both made." Rúben winked at me, eyes going soft and a smile appearing on his lips "Everything will be okay. Just try not to overwork yourself. And no, I'm not saying don't do nothing and just lay in bed all day. But you are very pregnant and are taking care of a fussy baby-toddler. Please, just take it easy while I'm away. When I come back it will be different." 

"I'm gonna try my best. Now I have to go to make a snack because I'm starving and you have work to do. So talk to you later. You also take it easy, okay." I lovingly smiled at him, damn I can't wait for it to be tomorrow already. 

"Alright, talk to you later. Loves you." 

"Loves you." both of us said at the same time, smiling at each other, leaning in and kissing the front cameras on our phones, sharing a virtual kiss and ending the call.

[megs-1800]

Nothing Good Happens After 2am

Notes: This is a request from Anon, I hope you are happy with it. As usual thank you for all the feedback and please continue to send feedback and requests.

Summary: You and Mason broke up 6 months ago. When your friend leaves you and you loose everything on a night out Mason's was the only number you could remember. Will he come and save you? Could you rekindle your relationship?

Pairings: Mason Mount x Reader

Word Count: 4.9K

Warnings: Fluff, Angst and a little Smut, Mentions of Miscarriage (does not go into great detail)

Mason POV:

It had been another horrible Wednesday night kick off, sat on the bench and no game time once again, the press are going to have a field day again with all this. I really cannot cope with anymore bad statements written, its really starting to have an effect me now. I walk through my front door and the loneliness hits me as I walk in. Its been 6 months since you and y/n broke up and days like today you could really do with her optimism and beautiful smile saying “fuck the press” and “Don’t listen to them look how many people support you, we are all proud that’s all that matters. I am your biggest fan!” but not today I do not get those words of encouragement. I just want an early night, so I shower and make myself something easy for dinner and crawl into bed. I hate how quiet the house is, there was always something going on with you, you were either on  facetime to your family, or singing along to your headphones whilst you cook or clean, or even asking me about my day there was constant chatter but today silence. My bed is so cold, I cannot even bring myself to sleep on your side still at the moment. I put ‘How I Met Your Mother’ on the TV for background noise as I try to fall asleep, it was our favourite TV show it was our comfort show that we used to watch over and over again I watch it now to hope that it would give me some kind of familiarity, it reminds me of you. I am curling up in bed hoping that I can fall asleep soon, when I heard during the episode ‘nothing good happens after 2am’. This is where all the memories of you come flooding back, because that statement couldn’t be more true. Nothing good ever happens after 2am especially when it comes to me and you, our car accident occurred at 2:30am when a drunk driver served us off the road coming back from an event together, you almost died that night and I have never been so scared in my life. The night we had our first fight occurred at 4:30am and the night we broke up well that was 3am. So yes I defiantly agree nothing good happens after 2am, well that was until tonight.

The next thing I knew I was being woken up by my phone ringing, it was a mobile number that wasn’t saved. I declined the call, and looked at the time who the hell is ringing met at 3am in the morning?  The number rang again, I didn’t want to answer it but whoever it was calling clearly wanted my attention. “h-h-hello m-m-mason?” I could hear the soft voice on the other end of the phone, it sounded desperate and scared. I knew that voice. “y/n” I couldn’t believe its you after 6 months my heart starts beating erratically. “I am sorry to wake you, I know its early in the morning” I interrupt you straight away “Please do not apologise, I am glad you called. Can I ask whats wrong? I do not see you ringing me just to say hey and off a different number”. At that I yawn starting to wake up and run a hand through my bed hair to get it out my face.  You giggled at that, it was one of those fake laughs that you used to do when your life was falling apart but still trying to smile. “Um it’s a long story.. I don’t even know Mase”. You start crying, I just want to hold you I hate when you cry. “I went out clubbing with Brittany and she met this guy and left me to hook up with him”. “I always hated that Brittany” I spat at you she was an awful selfish friend to you, you always deserved better. “I know you do Mase but right now I don’t need that I told you so speech” you say sternly. “Sorry” I say defeated and let you continue. “I came outside to ring her, I kept ringing her but she didn’t answer. That’s when this group of guys came over they saw me sad, obviously knew I was on my own and vulnerable.One of the guys punched me, and they took my phone and bag”. At this you started breaking. At the idea of someone hurting you like that, and all because that Brittany left you, I was so angry and  I started to put my shoes and get dressed whilst you continued. “Luckily I didn’t take any bank cards with me as I used contactless on my phone,  but my bag had my hotel room key in and now there is no receptionist until 7am and I have no way of getting into the hotel and no way to pay for another, my ankle is on fire where I landed on it when I got punched. I just don’t know what to do Mase, its my first time back in Manchester since we broke up I just cannot do this!” You then start to scream cry I just want to hold you I need to go to you. I cannot believe you are in Manchester! I put the word out to those in Manchester and for people to notify me if she goes why did no one tell me?  Its my turn to speak “I am ready, where am I going to get you?”  “Don’t be silly Mason, I only called you because it was the only number I remember can you call my dad and he will come and get me?” At that I am offended I get the break up wasn’t great terms but you woke me up, there was obviously more of a reason then that. “Your dad is 3 hours away, by the time he gets to you it will be sunrise and I am guessing you need your car to go home with so you might as well just let me come get you then we can sort something out for tonight so you can get all your stuff from the hotel tomorrow”. You know I am right, so you let me know the address and agreed to wait outside until I get there. I insisted you to stay inside as its cold, but you said you just wanted to get out of there so it will make it quicker to  stand outside.

I have never driven so fast in my life, all our memories together came flooding back I cannot believe I get to see you, after the longest 6 months I get to see the love of my life again. I pull up outside the club and see you in the skimpiest dress and the highest heels which you have now taken off and holding in your hand. This isn’t you I thought. I wind down my window “What the hell are you wearing?” You roll you eyes “Don’t start Mason” and hobble over to the passenger side. When you are inside I look straight at your ankle, it looks swollen probably a sprain. Your face is all red and puffy from the obvious crying and the left side of your face has gone red and swollen where that prick punched you. God if I ever find out who did this to you. I thought.

Readers POV:

You saw Masons Land Rover pull up, he had a hoodie on obviously trying to not get spotted. When I got inside the car, I looked over at him. He has let his hair grow longer and there is so much worry in his eyes. God he is so gorgeous not sure if this was the alcohol talking or not but I just want to jump across the car and kiss him. “You hungry?” He askes “Its like you read my mind Mount I am starvinggggg” That came out a little more confident then I expected but he shot me a smile which melted my heart. Damn you Mase all these feelings are coming back. “You fancy a Maccys?” He asks “Oh yeah I defo could eat a double cheeseburger and chicken nuggets right now but are you sure cause I can see the headlines now ‘Mason Mount is spotted having a late night maccys what will United think?’” He laughs at this “I said did you want a Maccys I didn’t say I am having one, I am not putting that shit in my body but I know you love it when you drunk”. Awww I love how you remember, you were always so good to me. Then it hits me I haven’t got any money on me. “Mason my cards are in the hotel room, I have no money don’t worry honestly”. He gives me a small reassurance smile “Don’t be silly its my treat, or if it would make you feel better you can pay me back when you got a new phone sorted”. We both knew he would never let me pay him back but I am too tired and hungry to argue.

We ordered the Maccys and decided its best to sit in the car and eat it so the car so Mason doesn’t get recognised. As I am munching away on my burger and chicken nuggets and I can slowly feel the alcohol wearing off. “Where am I taking you now?” He asks, I can feel my eyes starting to water “I have no idea Mase, my car keys and cards are inside my hotel room that I have no key card for so I am pretty fucked if I am being honest. I can use your phone to contact Brittany through socials again and see if she is around so I can go to her hotel or if you can drop me outside my hotel I can sleep outside until the reception opens?” Mason gives me a disappointed look “Absolutely not! My house is big enough you can sleep in one of the guest rooms please you are not sleeping on the streets or going back to that bitch”. I gave in it was cold I really just wanted to curl up in a bed. I give Mason a smile and a nod I just don’t know what to say. I never had this issue before we used to tell eachother everything and now I feel myself getting nervous. Mason yawns and runs a tired hand through his hair. “I am sorry for dragging you out this time, I really do appreciate it thank you”, “I would be offended y/n if you were in Manchester in need and you didn’t ring me” he laughed which I made a little laugh back to it. I just remembered shit “Shit sorry you had a game this evening, I am sorry I feel even worse now you must be exhausted sorry Mase how did it go?” now I just feel like a burden. He doesn’t make eye contact and just looks down “Don’t worry about it, didn’t get off the bench” he said this in such a harsh tone and basically spat it out, I hate when he is hard on himself. I grabbed Mason’s hand and run his fingers through mine “Stop that you just getting back from injury you cannot just come back to full time games and scoring 1000s of goals again give yourself time Mase, and just remember I am still your number one fan!”. I winked at the last part and Mason smiled I could tell he needed that more then I know.

We pulled into his driveaway and parked up “wait here 2 secs” and he quickly runs upto the house Great I thought he going to tell his girlfriend that I am here or quickly run his slag out or something. But he opened the door, I could tell where he was standing he was typing in the security alarm code and then came running back to the car. He opened the passenger door for me and held his hand out to help me get out the car. I winced at the sudden pain of putting pressure on my right ankle, he puts a hand tight against my back and carries me bridal style into the house. I forgotten how good he smells. He slowly lowers me to the ground being careful of your ankle, your dog Roco comes running through the house. He was a chocolate Labrador which you and Mason got when we first moved in, Mason said it was to keep me company when he was away which he definitely did, I let Mason keep him when we broke up as he was too much of a memory of Mason for me to keep. I was too broken. Roco bolted on top of you causing you to fall over due to lack of balance on your ankle which he gets on top of you licking away at your face. “Get off her Roco!” Mason shouts at the dog with authority and helps you up. “Its okay Mase, I have missed him” carrying on stroking him. “Well you have had enough injuries today I do not need my dog to add to that”. I looked at Mason in shock “Your dog?” I question. I thought he was OUR dog.

Mason supported me to walk up the stairs until we got the upstairs landing, “did you want a shower? You must be frozen” I know Mason asked that last bit as a question even though he can feel how cold I am as his hands are around my shoulders. “Yeah that sounds great I just don’t know how long I will be able to stand on my ankle its in agony”. Mason walks me over to the bed the bed we used to share. He crouches in front of me to look at my ankle he starts wiggling it and pushing on it which is causing me to moan in pain. “Sorry” he sends me a sympathetic look and rubs my hand in assurance that he isn’t meaning to hurt me, which I know Mason would never hurt me. “It doesn’t look broken its probably just a sprain, it looks like a bad sprain though due to the amount of swelling. Come to training with me tomorrow afternoon so I can get the physios to look at it for.” He got back up and supported me up so I was standing in front of him “Honestly Mase its fine I am sure after a couple of days it will be fine I don’t need to come to training with you”, “Y/n I insist I would rather know they have checked you out, its just gym training so I won’t be there long and then I can take you back to your hotel afterwards. Please if you not doing that at least let me take you to the hospital”. He knows how much you hate sitting in the hospitals so you gave in “Fine I will come with you tomorrow thanks”. “Are you going to report the attack to the police?” I shake my head “No point, they only stole my phone and hotel room key which there are 100s of hotels in Manchester so its not like they going to know which one it is, I will let the hotel know tomorrow and my phone there is nothing they can do”. Mason looked at you with concern “But they hit you y/n they need to pay for what they did to you.” He said that with a authority but I know he is only saying it to care. “I cannot even remember what they looked like, one minute they are coming towards me next thing I am on the floor and they are running off, the police are not going to be able to do anything without a positive ID plus they had hoodies on so its not like CCTV can pick it up. I appreciate your concern though”.

“Did you want some help to shower?” I looked at Mason shocked, we haven’t been that intimate in 6 months I am taken aback by that comment. Mason laughs and looked down and I can see a little blush. “Not like that y/n, just that you said it yourself you are not sure how you are going to shower with your ankle, and you need to shower you are frozen. You are clumsy at the best of times I do not need you slipping due to balancing on one foot”. Mason laughs as he knows what I am like, I nod my head as I know I am not going to win this argument. He turns me around and unzips my dress. I suddenly feel very exposed, Mason suddenly chucks me his dressing gown I look down and see its got the Man United badge on it “Making me betray (your football teams name) now” Mason laughs as he knows how much you love your football team.

You hobbled into the bathroom and turned the shower on, you hung the dressing gown on the door and stepped under the shower. His shower was always beautiful I don’t know why it was always the best shower. I can feel the hot specks of water running down my skin, suddenly warming me up. I needed this more then I thought. Mason walks in naked and comes to join me in the shower. I looked him up and down and suddenly start blushing, we have showered so many times together and been a lot more intimate then that before so not sure why I am so nervous. He giggles “you should take a picture it would last longer”. This makes me blush even more “Well I have had those pictures, but luckily I deleted them otherwise the people who stole my phone could of hacked it and it would have been all over the news by now ‘Mason Mounts Nudes Leaked!’ He laughs at that grateful you did delete them. It was photos we would send eachother whilst he was away when we needed some intimacy. “Well maybe in light of everything that has happened I should delete yours just in case” He winks at me. He still has my pictures.

He quickly grabs my body wash from under the sink “You left all your stuff here when you left, I thought I would keep it you know just in case. I am glad I did now”. He puts the body wash on my body and starts rubbing it in. His touch is like ecstasy, him touching my body like that brings back all these memories again. I turn to look at him so he can wash my front then I can see him looking at me up and down, I can feel him blushing. Then he starts looking at my lips and back up to my eyes again, he does this a couple of times then next thing you know his lips are crashing to me. He pulls away to check its okay, at this moment in time all I care about is him. I put my arms around his neck and pull his body into mine and feel him start to harden at the kiss. He pushes me into the wall and grinds his body into mine so I can feel his new harden length digging into me. As I breathe for air his lips are now attacking my neck, as he pushes me up against the wall. My ankle is causing me so much pain but at the moment all I can think about his him. His mouth goes back to mine and I can feel his tongue in my mouth. I have forgotten how sexy he was. Before I know it, his fingers are inside me they are going slow at first and then he starts to pump harder “fuck” I mutter. I forgotten how good his fingers are. I pull my fingers through his hair which makes him go faster. I can feel myself start to get close then reality brings me back what am I doing? We cannot be doing this we are not together. “Mase” I say in hopes to stop it, at the whisper of his name he just hums into my neck. “Mase, stop”. I say a big louder this time. As soon as Mason heard this he pulled his fingers out of me and quickly separated himself away from me. He looks scared “Did uh did I hurt you?” He looks confused. You smile to get him some reassurance. “No god no Mase. It felt incredible actually. Just we cannot be doing this its going to make it a whole lot more complicated. I am sorry for leading you on”. Mason shakes his head “Don’t be silly, I just could never resist you, I am sorry. Lets just finish the shower”.

He finished your shower and you agreed you will get dressed while he quickly showers. You hobble over to the bed in your towel and see that Mason as left one of his United Shirts and a pair of his boxers on the bed that you could wear. You are quickly getting dressed with Mason walks in. He turns to you “You are making it really hard to resist you, you know you wearing my clothes was always my weakness”. You laugh at this, you can see the specks of water running down his chest which makes your heart beat He is so sexy. “Back at you Mount, always were the most sexiest man”. I wink at him.

“stay in my bed tonight”, I shot a Mason a look of shock. He quickly justifies his reason “look you were punched in the face and hit your head you could have concussion I would rather you sleep with me so I know you are okay and like not going to die in the night” He laughs I know he only doing it to care but he always so dramatic. “Look you can even have Roco share the bed, I usually don’t let him up here but if it would make you feel comfortable knowing there is a dog between us.” He tries to reason. I give him a warm smile back “Okay that would be okay, if Roco could. I have missed him so much so I would love to fall asleep with him again”. Mason nods and gestures to me to get into bed whilst he shouts Roco and I can heat the pounding of feet up the stairs. Roco quickly waits for permission from Mason to get into bed damn he has trained him well. Once given the nod Roco jumps into bed and snuggles up with me, a tear slipped down my cheek on how much I have missed him. I quickly wiped it but the look Mason gave me I think he saw it.

We both lying in bed staring at the ceiling with Roco curled up between us, maybe this was a bad idea as I forgot how big Roco was and he is taking up all the room. “You know all bad things happen after 2am I still agree with that fact” I look at Mason and I know he laughs because of the irony of it. “I don’t know, I know you got hurt but all the events tonight still got you in my bed after 6 months so maybe I might need to retract that statement”. I look at him and giggle. Is he trying to flirt?. I can feel my eyes welling up “M-M-Mason what happened to us? Where did it all go so wrong?” He sits up in the bed cross legged so he is not looking over at me “I don’t know Y/N/N you are the one who ended it you tell me”. I am hurt at that, like he doesn’t know why I ended it, like he didn’t know all the issues we had.

I now sit up trying not to disturb Roco who is now snoring away, I carry on stroking him to ensure he stays in his sleep. “Come on Mason, we weren’t happy you know that. We were arguing constantly and the distance was getting to us. The hate we were both receiving was getting to both us. Look how nice and supporting you have been tonight you haven’t be like that in months.” You looked down “The miscarriage broke us Mase”. He looked down at that comment and I can see he was trying to hold it together and I can feel a tear run down my face. “I tried my best Mason, I lost our baby and you were constantly away, you were never around you threw yourself into training and were always out. I had to deal with it all on my own Mason, then when you were home we would shout do you know how hard that was? I had to walk away before I hated you Mason, cause I already hated myself for not giving you the one thing you wanted” at this I broke and started crying. Mason quickly leaped across the bed and put me into his lap and held me, he was rubbing my back. I can feel him crying too. Roco now woken up and curled back into us trying to comfort us. “I know I was distant I just didn’t know how to cope so I hid away. I was so excited to be a dad and was so excited for you to be the mother of my child but that was taken away from me, I just didn’t know what to do. That’s why I tried to throw myself into something because you needed me to be strong and I didn’t know how to be”. I bring his face up so our eyes meet mine “The problem is Mason you were just pushing me away, I needed you and you were no one to be found. I am miles away from my family so I had to cope with this on my own. I was all alone Mason I just didn’t know what else to be. I didn’t want to loose you, I wanted to walk away before you walked away from me”. Mason grabs my face and kisses me, I am shocked by this but return the kiss. I have waited 6 months for this. “I love you y/n I would of never left you. You broke my heart walking away. In the space of a month I lost baby and I lost you I was a mess. Ask Dec he had to ring me everyday to make sure I was out of bed”. I smile “I know, Dec messaged me everyday, who do you think was asking for the updates?” He smiles at that knowing you were still asking about him Damn I love this man.

I look over at the clock at the side of the room “Damn its 5:30am, we need to get some sleep you got training soon”. Mason nods and lies down on the bed which I do too. Mason looks over at me “Its fine, training not until lunchtime so we can still get a good couple of hours”. I nod that’s good I am going to struggle when that alarm goes off.

“How long are you down here for? What are your plans?” I am shocked Mason wants to talk I thought he would want to sleep. “I have no idea, I am supposed to be staying down and travelling home Sunday so I can go back to work, me and Brittany where going to go to your game on Saturday not going to lie”. I say a little embarrassed now. Mason gives me a small smile, I know he is happy at that. “Well how about I take you to training tomorrow to get your ankle looked at, I will take you back to your hotel to get a new key and all that and why don’t you just stay here? Mum and all the rest of the family are coming down tomorrow and are staying tomorrow night. Then I have training Friday but in the afternoon we are taking Mila and Summer to the zoo and then they staying for the game on Saturday. You don’t need to stay here you can stay at your hotel if its too awkward. But I know my family especially Mila and Summer will be so happy to see, and I bet Roco would love to spend time with his mummy”. The way he called me his mummy broke me, I forgotten how much I have missed my dog. I just wrap Roco up with that comment.

“That sounds amazing Mase, I would love to. If you wouldn’t mind I will stay here it saves me trying to get back from Manchester to Cheshire everyday. I would love to see your family I have missed them all so much” Mason smiles at that and brings you into his arms. “Maybe good things do happen after 2am”. You say. He spoons you to sleep as you feel yourself drifting to sleep. This is not the way you thought your night would go but you are so grateful it did.

[folkloresthings]

i have just read through all your stuff while on a road trip and i will be reading it again to make sure i appreciate it properly!

can we get a lance stroll x barbie actress! reader where they’ve been in a relationship since like…16 but the world only found out when lance went to the barbie premier 🙏🙏 ly tyvm

writers note: i’m 🥲 this is such a sweet little message! thank you sweetheart!! i’m always down for writing baby boy lance stroll so ofc &lt;3

LIFE IN PLASTIC / LS18.

in which he’s succeeding massively in the racing world, and she’s one of the biggest actresses of this year. but no one knows, they’re desperately in love with each other.

( lance stroll x actress!au )

✩⡱ warnings: none

INSTAGRAM.

liked by alexandrashipp, lance_stroll, and 689,121 more

yourusername this barbie is a mermaid!!! 💖🌊🧜‍♀️ barbie is out july 21, this movie is so close to my heart. i hope you enjoy.

view all 550,349 comments

nicolacouglan my favourite mermaid 💓

⤷ yourusername my favourite diplomat 💕

user SHE’S A BARBIE GIRL

ncutigatwa she IS the moment

NOTIFICATION! lance_stroll shared this to their story!

INSTAGRAM.

liked by astonmartinf1, maxverstappen, and 19,437 others

lance_stroll hello miami!! great qualifying race today, bring it on tomorrow! 💓🌸💕

view all 14,937 comments

estebanocon can’t wait for tomorrow!! let’s race!

astonmartinf1 race engineers request you “stop singing barbie girl every time you overtake” thanks 👍

⤷ lance_stroll no can do, sorry

yourusername we should get you on the soundtrack 💘💘💘

⤷ lance_stroll omw to the studio now

⤷ user ariana what are you doing here

yourusername added to their story!

INSTAGRAM.

liked by chloestroll, fernandoalo_official, and 238,620 others

lance_stroll my sister got married! lots of love to chloe and scotty, such a fun day & night ❤️

view all 18,682 comments

chloestroll ❤️❤️❤️

user am i going mad or is that the dress from y/n’s story?

⤷ user i saw she was there too!! i didn’t know they knew each other

⤷ user they’re both from montreal!

yourusername the best night 🥺

user i am looking: suspiciously

INSTAGRAM.

liked by lance_stroll, barbiemovie, and 989,327 others

yourusername world premiere baby!!! this barbie loved the pink carpet (this ken got tired very quickly) 💗💖🌸💕🌷💞💓💘

view all 17,444 comments

user LANCE????

⤷ user the crossover we didn’t know we needed

jvn STUNNING 🤩

lance_stroll 🧎🧎🧎

⤷ charles_leclerc simp

INSTAGRAM.

liked by yourusername, yukitsunoda0511, and 740,917 others

tagged: yourusername

lance_stroll my barbie girl 😍 i’ve been head over heels in love with you since high school and watching you on the big screen, doing what you’re made for, only makes me love you even more. i’m so proud of you, darling ❤️

view all 733,518 comments

user talk about HARD LAUNCH

yourusername and he’s just ken 🫶

⤷ fernandoalo_official i like her more than you lancestroll

yourusername jk i love you more than this earth. thank you for being my rock and shoulder to cry on. i truly don’t deserve you 🫶

comment liked by lance_stroll, and 83,482 others

user they’ve been dating since high school and we’re only finding out now😭😭😭

landonorris how did you manage that, man

⤷ lance_stroll i’ve been asking myself the same question for 8 years

[lordfreg]

Hello all,

TW for p3d0ph!l!a, z00ph!l!a

Today, I have gotten some allegations against myself for being a pedo + zoophile. This is not true.

As many of you know who are in the TMNT fandom and enjoy the spicy side of these turtles, you often get accused of this. It is unfortunate but true. I knew this was coming, but I feel like I must explain myself further.

As you know, I have a patron. This was actually made prematurely, and is sort of bad, so that will be closing shortly (I apologize). And on this patron, is the option to see "sexy turtles", but nobody has signed up for this and I have no patron exclusive content (yet).

Apparently, this is pedophilia and zoophilia.

(They have conveniently left out the "mutant" part)

This is not true. All the turtles are aged up, which I thought would be implied in the fact that I only (really) draw for the EPA au, and they are visibly, mentally and emotionally older than their cannon counterparts. I.e. wrinkles, more pronounced features, bulkier.

This may be my mistake for wording this poorly, or not taking the proper measures, but you would think the implication, and my two different art styles, would be a major difference.

Anyway, the zoophilia claim is also ridiculous because... seriously? My explanation for this is that they are not only canonically human, they also have been confirmed human DNA. Enough to make them stand on two legs, walk, talk, read, cry, enough human to make them, well.. human.

Another reason is that (rise) Donnie has autism; which is a brain malformation. This means his brain is big enough to not only be malformed, but still functioning. A real turtles brain isn't big enough to be deformed in that way, and if it was, the turtles would unfortunately die.

Continuing, I had the claim that I was "15" because I had put a 18+ only warning on my content. I am not.

AN IMPORTANT ELEMENT; I have put the 18+ warning not because of the sex, but because it contains extreme violence and triggering topics. Sex is NOT the main focus of this AU, or any of my works unless stated "this is for fun/this is because I wanted to/this is explicit" etc. My au is to delve into trauma, war, violence, sexual trauma (to both male and female), and generally bring awareness to things and help support people. It is NOT just smut.

This, again, could have been my sever lack of forethought and under-explaining my au, simply because I didn't actually know what my au would be about/contain. Again, I take responsibility for my poor wording and lack of (more) warnings.

Also, this person is actually just bullying me with my old self ship art (which i still love and adore), so... pity points?

More on myself; I'm coming to the realization (after years of being hypersexual), that sex is not a priority to me, nor is it something that I feel a strong compulsion to make/indulge in. I am not a sexual deviant, meaning I do NOT support harmful sexual behaviors. Zoophilia is actively taking advantage of animals, which I am not, and will never do.

It is unfortunate that some people genuinely cannot control themselves, but I am not one of those people.

I honestly have no idea what I've done to this person to make them put me on blast, and whatever it is, I'm sorry. I will, again, be taking down my patron page to start over, and I apologize to my patrons already, but it's sucky.

Again, sorry about this and for everyone who goes through this. I am sorry, dear friend, that you're writhing with jealousy. And I am sorry, patrons, that I have to close my patron. I love all my followers, and I try my best to send the "Thanks for the follow" to show my appreciation.

Myself and @lexiechr will continue to work on the EPA au, and that will be posted when ready.

(Also, my Instagram is now private because I don't want harassment nor people thinking I'm a bad person. I am just being bullied and bring a socially awkward idiot about it.)

Again, much love, Jorjie :3

[ros3ybabe]

Daily Check-in: April 14, 2024 🎀

Hello lovelies! Life is looking better again, but omg was Wednesday thru Saturday morning rough for me. Even last night I was crying my eyes out, but things got better today so I am happy. I want to make a small announcement about the future of my blog: I am changing the theme!! I will still be keeping the pinterest-image, pink, girly aesthetic for my more general posts (lists, routines, etc) but for my daily check ins, I will be using photos I take myself (anonymous surroundings, notes, food/drinks, etc) and colors and emojis that compliment the photos! I have been wanting to change the vibe a bit lately to make it more me, more personal, and I think now is the time to do so! I'm excited to start taking my own photos now, that'll be so fun!!

🩷 What I Accomplished:

washed my sheets, towels, blankets, and comforter

washed and put away all laundry

cleaned the bathroom

packed shoes to ship from my depop shop

cooked chicken fettuccine alfredo from scratch (I made the sauce myself too! it was heavy on the parm and some pieces of chicken were salty, but it was so yummy and rich in flavor!)

planned out some of my week

packed my gym bag for tomorrow (I'm gonna start working out again, I'm nervous)

did my guided journal and morning journal

read 3 chapters of The Untethered Soul (interesting so far, going to keep reading to see how I enjoy it)

wrote out my brain dump for the week

reflected on the week + updated with my accountability buddies

bought groceries (time to make smoothies for breaky this week) and toiletries

🩷 Good Things That Happened:

my pasta was super yummy

had a long phone call with my dad (it was a good talk!)

finally read a physical book and not on my ipad

had such a nice, long shower early this morning

confidently planned goals for the week

my psyc assignment got extended til Wednesday for the whole class

found a recipe for avocado protein smoothie (excited to try it)

🩷 Stuff For Tomorrow

make a breakfast smoothie

gym cardio workout

need to ship shoes I sold

need to complete my homework

studying Spanish (have an italki lesson on April 22nd!!)

read some more

studying chemistry in preparation for my finals

No "what needs to go better" for me today, because today was a really good day. I'm feeling better and life itself is working out the way I knew it would. I just gotta trust in the universe more.

til next time, lovelies 🩷

[manheeiim]

chapter two: introductions

-- a ghostly love masterlist

I opened my eyes and all I saw at first was the stars and the pitch black sky. I immediately sat up and looked around but there was absolutely no one. What was going on? I had no clue. Was I alive? If I was.. then where is everyone? And if I’m not.. then why am I here?

I got off the ground and headed towards the bleachers. I walked up the bleachers, the sound of my footsteps on the metal stairs sounding even louder than usual due to the quietness outside. I looked around and there was absolutely nobody. 

I then made my way inside of the school. There was still no one. I was completely and utterly confused. I hesitated before heading to the locker room and grabbing my bag out of the locker, walking out of the locker room with the bag, through the school, and towards the sidewalk.

As soon as I stepped onto the sidewalk, it was as if I teleported to the football field again. I looked around confused as I dropped my bag on the floor. I then fell to my knees as I started crying into the palms of my hands. What is happening right now?

A long while after, I finally stopped crying and as I wiped my tears, I could see someone walking my way. I watched as they came over to me. From my angle, they seemed so tall and mighty. It was a man, his hair was slicked to the side and he was wearing a suit. 

“Hello, my name is Mr. Martin. And you are?” The man said in a very formal sounding voice, if that even makes sense.

“Lucia… Lucia _______.” I respond and the man nods. “Are you.. are you a teacher here?” I ask, still unsure of what was even happening.

“I was a teacher here.” Mr. Martin responds.

“What do you mean?” I inquire.

“Well, I died here in the ‘50s.” He tells me. My body got tense, so I really was dead. “And you, well you just died today, I’m guessing.” Mr. Martin then says.

“Um… I guess.” I say in a monotone voice.

“If you like, we’re about to have a meeting in the gym. You can join us.” Mr. Martin tells me.

“Who’s we?” I ask.

“You’ll see.” Is all he says before he starts walking towards the school again. I stood there for a moment before catching up and walking with him, leaving my backpack behind.

<3

Mr. Martin walked into the bright gym and I followed behind. Past him, I could see a group of people sitting in chairs that were put in a circle. “Guys, we have a new student!” Mr. Martin announces as I walk behind him. He sits in a chair and I just sit in a random empty chair on the other side of the circle.

“Ooo, a cheerleader.” A girl, dressed in almost all black clothing that seemed to be from sometime in the 60s, says rather sarcastically.

“Rhonda, let’s let her introduce herself.” Mr. Martin tells everyone.

Everyone then looked over to me and I made eye contact with the guy sitting next to me. He had dark fluffy straight hair and was wearing a sleeveless gray shirt along with some gray sweatpants. I noticed that he was wearing a gold chain on his neck but I quickly looked away.

“Um, I’m Lucia _______.” I say, not really sure what to say. “I am.. or I mean, I was a senior.” I tell everyone, unsure on how to really phrase this. “And yeah, I’m- I was on the cheer team.” I say, having to correct myself.

“Nice to meet you, Lucia. I’m Charley.” A guy with blonde highlights, glasses, and a striped shirt tucked into baggy jeans told me. 

“Hi.” I give him a small smile.

“How’d you die?” Rhonda blurts out and I look over at her.

“Um, well, I don’t know all the details but, um, today was the pep rally and obviously, the cheer team did a performance out on the field. I was one of the flyers. And, I guess- I mean, I know, that I did the twist wrong and I wasn’t caught by my teammates and I landed wrong and.. and I don’t know, everything went black and now I’m here.” I say.

Charley just winced at the thought of it, Rhonda said nothing at first, and the guy whose name I didn’t know just looked at me. Mr. Martin decided to be the one to break the silence. “Well, actually, Wally here,” Mr Martin motioned to the guy sitting next to me, “he died on the football field as well.” Mr. Martin says.

I looked over at the guy, who’s name is Wally, and he just gave me a small smile. “Yeah, I’m Wally Clark. Nice to meet you.” He says, holding his hand out for me to shake. I awkwardly put my hand out and he took it, shaking my hand. “Class of ‘84. I was laid out by a tackle during my senior year homecoming game.” He tells me, holding my hand in his as he spoke before he let go. 

“Your name sounds familiar.” I admit.

“Yeah, they named the stadium after me.” He says, seemingly proud.

“Yeah, and none of us are ever living that down. That’s like, a personality trait of his.” Charley tells me and I can’t help but giggle. “Hey, maybe you’ll get your name on something out there too.” He then adds.

I shake my head, “I doubt it.” I say.

“You never know.” Charley tells me with a small smile and I just shake my head once again.

“So… are you all the people that have died here as well?” I ask.

“Yeah, well, I mean there’s Dawn. She died in the ‘70s. She’s spent all her time roaming around the school.” Wally tells me.

“Oh..” Is all I say in response.

“No one really knows how she died.” Charley tells me. “She died in the ‘70s though, she was probably doing acid or something.” He says.

“Oh my god.” I say and he just shrugs.

[ailoveuu]

Hello, and welcome to a series that I would like to call "what does an anti have to say", in which I watch a bunch of anti-proship videos to see if they can turn me into an anti!

Today, we are going to be watching "An Ex Proshippers advice" by Loki ZeGaymer. I found this video through someone on here (tamarahtalkstv), so major thanks to them for even making their own post about this and inspiring this whole thing.

Will I stop being anti harassment? Will I give up on blocking content I don't like?? Am I going to stop shipping bad ships (even though I keep it to myself 9/10 and have only mentioned my comships twice on this account)??? Will this be my last post before deactivating???? Let's find out together!

An obvious disclaimer, because the fact that I have to say this fucking sucks: don't harass this person. Being proship is all about being anti harassment, and if you can't be a decent human being over fiction, you are the issue. We are all humans, treat each other as such.

One of the first things that becomes obvious right off the bat, that actually gives this video so much more credibility than most others, is that this person used to be a proshipper! This is a very common rhetorical device, known as ethos. Believe me, I hate ethos, pathos, and logos discussions, but they exist for a reason. The fact that this person used to be a proshipper is them saying that they have experience with such things and can understand what they're talking about, in a way. They say both in the video and in the caption that they used to be a proshipper, so if you'd actually want to see how antis think, this could be helpful since they've been on both sides.

Although, an odd thing that seemed to show right after is the story of how they became a proshipper. The claim that they got groomed into proshipping is a common one, and I'm not surprised. Believe it or not, fiction can be used to spread ideas and connect to vulnerable individuals. My initial issue with this is that this wording, that they were groomed into proshipping, acts like proshipping in general is what caused this. Any type of fiction, even "legal" fiction, can lead to this.

I've had people in their 20's say that if they were my age, they'd have a crush on me. We met through harmless roleplaying. I was in a toxic relationship with someone I met through roleplaying, who happened to be an anti. Off topic, but I'm starting to think that roleplaying is the issue...but you get my point. Any and all type of fiction can be used against people. I know that toxic ex of mine did use "legal" fiction against me, and that's just how it is. Fiction can be used for malicious purposes. Any and all types.

(Also, jfc their ex sounds awful. Idgaf that they were 16-17, wdym you groomed a 14 y/o while in an online cult??? Ik this is about proshipping, but I genuinely hope they've recovered from this. Again, I speak from experience, that ex deserves to go to hell and back - and I'm the least religious person on this planet.)

Now, I'm gonna paraphrase, bc I don't wanna rewatch the clips 6383 times in order to get the exact quote. At 3:03, their claim is that "I've been groomed by multiple people, all of whom were proshippers. This contradicts their claim that fiction doesn't affect reality." All I'm gonna say, is that people who think fiction DOESN'T affect reality are stupid.

I feel giddy when I read cute fanfiction, I cry over sad scenes, I use it to cope! Fiction is affecting my reality, because I have let it. Fiction is affecting my reality, but not on a 1:1 basis. I'm a huge horror fan, I've been like that since about 3rd/4th grade. By this logic though, I'm a mass murderer, abuser, cult leader, and overall the embodiment of evil. Last time I checked, I've never killed a person.

At 3:39, they begin to talk about getting doxxed. I'm starting to think this person is like, my long lost twin bc I also got doxxed a while back, but not for being a proshipper. Ironically enough, that is exactly why they got doxxed. I haven't moved on past this part, but I'm going to make a prediction: I'm hoping that they say that this was wrong, they nobody deserves this, and that this is something that antis shouldn't do no matter how wrong proshipping may be. Was I right? Well...

Uh they didn't mention it at all past that. They didn't like, say "that's wrong", but instead they mention that they got therapy, and thank goodness for that! Idc that they're an anti, getting groomed and doxxed is not something you go through and be completely fine after. They say that they got therapy specifically for the abuse and not for the comshipping, which I agree with, esp since my own therapist agrees that people do use comshipping as a way to cope.

4:12, and now we're moving onto the whole anti-harassment claim. Oh no.

I haven't moved past that as of writing this part, but I'm willing to bet that they're gonna say "you can't be anti harassment and a groomer" which I agree with. Although that's just common sense. I don't think that it'll be worded right though because that'll just continue that idea that ALL proshippers are groomers, which this video literally contracts because I have faith that this person wasn't a groomer ever, esp not as a proshipper.

"They claim to be anti harassment while invalidating my trauma and misgendering my best friend." So that's a false claim and does not represent every proshipper...many proshippers are trans and use comshipping to cope with their trauma. If they're doing this while doing what you've claimed them to be doing then they'd be hypocritical. I am very lucky to have not experienced that myself, and I've never seen a proshipper harass anybody, but I don't doubt they exist.

"Even if someone is a proshipper, you shouldn't be harassing them; especially if they're a minor" common sense we love to see it <3

"Just stop and seek some help. It's not that hard to seek therapy." but for some it IS HARD. The fact that I can go to therapy and get treated for my anxiety is a privilege that so many do not have. Do NOT act like therapy is so easily accessible. For many, it is not. They said the same thing at the end for adults as well...

We don't blame horror movie directors for people being inspired by their movies to commit murder. Why is it a proshippers fault when someone thinks pedophilia and incest is okay? I know many people who write and create that type of content will explicitly state that they're against it irl.

So, that's just a bunch of yapping... what's my actual thoughts on this?

In my opinion, while this person is very, very brave for sharing their story, and I can only hope that they've managed to recover from everything that happened, I cannot help but disagree. A singular story is not going to convince many people that they're in the wrong, especially when the video was marketed as "advice" and the only thing said was "get help".

In the beginning, they said they didn't know they were a proshipper, which explains why they're even using the term proship in the first place! Proship is "don't like don't read" and being anti harassment. What they're discussing is comshipping, and not every comship is bad. It could literally just be mortal x immortal. Yup, that's a comship!

tldr: i was not convinced. this person was respectful, and I'm very glad, however I do not agree with this opinion. this video seems like it was made for antis rather than existing proshippers, as their advice was lackluster. I rate it a 4/10, and I am still a proshipper.

[ohmyeyesmyeyes]

beef with wasps

f!singer x andrei svechnikov

warnings: mentions of anaphylactic shock/severe allergic reactions, swearing, light joking of near death (to be clear: nobody dies in this), some fluff

liked by gracieabrams, rolemodel and 836,217 others

ynofficial: on behalf of y/n - she is conscious, well and in great hands. she told me to spare the details on what happened, but does want you guys to know that after suffering a wasp sting earlier this afternoon, she was rushed to the ER after going into anaphylactic shock. she gave us all quite a scare and will be in overnight for observations, but doctors are positive she'll make a full recovery

S x

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gracieabrams: thinking of you and wishing you the best recovery! <3

fan1: who tf is s?

fan2: that must have been terrifying, so glad she's ok now

fan3: sending love

reneerapp: ❤️❤️

comments for this post have been restricted

liked by olivia_dejonge, haleyluhoo and 921,375 others

ynofficial: they gave me so much fucking adrenalin i have a rocket up my arse rn and he's just gone to the vending machine bc im so hungry so im taking this opportunity to tell you guys that i almost died today but im ok and the reason theres no selfie is bc i look like a pickled dick rn and as charles boyle once said life is a party and im the pinata xxxxx and he did get me flowers without me even asking so im vv in love rn

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fan4: sorry you almost died?????

fan5: babe what did you think anaphylactic shock was

fan6: does the adrenalin also increase the meme usage

fan7: so she almost dies AND reveals she might be in a relationship??? my heart is breaking twice tonight

fan8: ok but the flowers???? she's got a real one there

fan9: i mean i'd like to think if you almost died your partner would get you flowers...

fan10: lmao you'd think so wouldn't you

liked by andrei_svechnikov37, madisonbaileybabe and 926,174 others

ynofficial: back home! i'm now on house arrest because "there aren't any wasps inside" (we have beef with their butts now). needless to say, it was scary for everyone, but as you can see, miley (the cat) is the only one unbothered. i'm currently typing this from under a human giant and i'm loving every second.

i'd also like to take the opportunity to apologise for my loopy instagram posting and let everyone who purchased tickets for the phoenix show know that they will be refunded. again, i'm incredibly sorry for any inconvenience!

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fan11: and you expect me to believe that human giant in the photo is NOT svech???

fan12: he also likes cats

fan13: and in her other post, it was signed off with 's'

fan14: girl don't apologise

fan15: is he ok?

ynofficial: bit teary but we're recovering!

fan16: NO SVECH DON'T CRY EVERYTHING IS OKAY

andrei_svechnikov37: ynofficial you almost died i'm not letting you go that easily

fan17: SVECH HELLO

liked by ynofficial, devonleecarlson and 57,931 others

andrei_svechnikov37: the family emergency has made a full recovery! (thank fuck) i also wanted to come on here and say that i'm unbelievably proud of this girl, and hilariously in love with her

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fan18: crying happy tears this is adorable

fan19: SVECH STOP RUINING MY STANDARDS

fan20: i love how she's wearing red in the last two pictures

ynofficial: shh he hasn't caught on yet

fan21: i've only had y/n and andrei for a day (officially), but if anything happened to them, i would kill everyone in this room and then myself

fan22: am i the only one who wants to know how long they've been dating?

fan23: no!! i do too

ynofficial: you're making me blush

liked by andrei_svechnikov37

fan24: y/n is so precious and idk who andrei is but i love him just for this caption

fan25: svech is definitely a cuddler

liked by ynofficial

liked by andrei_svechnikov37, sydney_sweeney and 1,028,285 others

ynofficial: i can't find the right words to express how happy and grateful i am to have you in my life, so i'm just going to settle with i love you so fucking much that sometimes i can't breathe because of it, okay?

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fan26: is andrei the inspiration behind out of my misery?

ynofficial: yes

fan27: you guys make me sick in a good way

fan28: wow you've got taste y/n

andrei_svechnikov37: saying you can't breathe is a bit too soon

ynofficial: LMAO I DIDN'T EVEN NOTICE

andrei_svechnikov37: i love the love though

fan29: y/n i can't-

fan30: how long have you guys been together?

ynofficial: one and a half years!

fan31: y/n not being overly mushy on instagram and casually announcing she's dating an nhl player is my favourite part of this year so far

[sitepathos]

Hello. I know this might sound dramatic, but I want you to know that you probably save my life tonight.

I was having a really bad day. My family doesn't understand me enough to care, and maybe my issue with my family is the reason why I found comfort in Batfam fics. Today, everything just got worse. My father yelled at me for something he didn't even know, I don't know why he even had the audacity to speak when he doesn't even know the matter, and now I can't speak and yell at his face that he's wrong because I am a child and not a parent, I would be considered "disrespectful" if I wanted to speak what is right and true.

I was really begging any Gods at that point to take me. I was thinking of ways to execute myself tonight. I was planning to starve myself tomorrow and ignore today's dinner. I was planning on searching what's "Metoprolol" is because growing up as a kid, I always think that "concern" is a form of love, and maybe if they saw my dead body tonight, maybe they'll cry because they love me. I know this is bad. I know this is inappropriate to say, but when I tried to atleast make myself feel better and decided to read Batfam fics again, I saw your new chapter of From Gold to Mold and it genuinely makes everything better. I didn't want to read Chapter 3 because I saw the comments that you left it with a cliffhanger, and I hate that, and decided to wait for the next chapter instead. Ever since I saw the new chapter, I actually ate dinner, because atleast I know there's still things in this world that makes me happy. When I saw your new chapter, I asked God, "Is this your way of comforting me?", and I want you to know that your work is a form of blessing for me. I started thanking God at that moment, and told myself that I also want to thank you.

I actually don't read Batman comics, or watch Batman. I never read or watch any DC movies before, but Batfam fics is about a family that I will always desire yet never really grasp. I wish for all Batfam authors to live the life they wanted.

I am very sorry for saying this, and straight up said that I was actually considering doing it. I am very aware that this is inappropriate but I really, really, really want to tell you that you save me. I know saying that a "fanfiction" save my life sounds ridiculous, but that's where I found my comfort in, and I would be willing to be ridicule at if it means showing what genuinely makes me happy. I will always love your works even if it means showing my lack of redamancy for my family, or even hatred if I have to admit. This doesn't mean that you are a start of my rebellion. I am only stating that you are a light in my times of darkness.

Thank you.

Wow, ok, wasn’t expecting my work to have such an impact. Good to know.

First of all, I’m glad you’re enjoying the series! When this idea popped into my head, I wasn’t sure if there would be many who’d actually enjoy it. With people like you, I’m inspired to put all that I have into From Gold to Mold! I hope my future work meets and exceeds all your expectations!

Second of all, I’m so sorry that you’re going through such a rough time in your life right now. Since you were brave to share a part of you for all to see, I’ll share something, too. About five years ago, my mother was a major junkie. With that, plus her narcissism, led her to divorcing my stepdad (who brought me out of my shell and made me a better version of myself) and moved us to my grandmother’s house after my grandfather died after battling lung cancer. Living with her was a nightmare, constantly walking around eggshells for fear of pissing her off, her stealing money from my grandmother, and yelling at everyone. She was always riding my ass to get a job just so she could take money from me. Early 2020, she was finally evicted and it’s just my grandmother and I living together.

She’s actually cleaned herself up and we enjoy a decent relationship.

So, while things look horrible and it may take a while, things do get better. I’m rooting for you.

[monbons]

WIP Wednesday

Posting actual WIPS on a Wednesday? Imagine that.

As long as we are all baring our hearts on tumblr, I have to admit that I have been struggling to write anything since I wrapped up Eternal Life (back in the first week of April). At first I figured I was simply burnt out since I wrote all 42k words of that fic in just about a month, but given that I've started three separate WIPS since then and made zero progress on any of them, I'm wondering if I am just out of stories. I hate all my words--even though I really love some of these concepts. So, as you may have noticed, I've been distracting myself with sewing projects because good progress is so clearly visible there...

Anywho, to motivate myself, I decided to post a snip of each today and hope that having bits out in the world will motivate me to finish at least ONE of them! All untitled. Set up and snips below the cut.

Very creatively titled "Party Robot," this WIP is a silly/fluffy one-shot inspired by an article I read a while ago about a growing trend in American weddings. This one is the furthest along and will likely see the light of day eventually...

A nervous bounce.  From a robot. I recognize that bounce. “I thought you said Shepard was working tonight.” My voice is tight. “He is.” Bunce replies, similarly strained. “What did you say he does again?” Panic rises in my chest.  “He’s in entertain–”  Whether Bunce trails off or I simply don’t hear the rest is irrelevant because the music has changed from easy dinner instrumentals to much-too-loud techno and the show is clearly starting. As the synths build, driving towards a crescendo, my brain reels with the growing realisation that Simon would never just abandon me at the last minute, would never send me anywhere alone, certainly not my cousin’s gay wedding, which is every kind of milestone given his Old Families lineage and Pitch blood specifically and– “PARTY PEOPLE!” The DJ booms into the mic. “Have the grooms got a treat for you!”

A multi-chapter AU I have lovingly nicknamed "Baz in a Bubble." It is sad and angsty and is proving significantly more difficult to execute (despite having a complete outline) than I once thought it would be. Who could have guessed having one home-bound character would make me too sad to write? Thanks to @thewholelemon and @hushed-chorus who've listened to more than their fair share of my griping about this one. Anyway, here's the first bit of BAZ POV:

There are exactly 297 stars in the sky above me. I count them while lying in my bed every night. They do not twinkle or flicker hello like real stars. Instead, they glow a constant yellowish-green that reminds me of the colour artists always make toxic sludge in the cartoons I grew up watching. It's the colour of superhuman villains and their evil plots. Of poison. Of danger. It's the colour of the plastic star stickers Fiona put up on my ceiling when I was 10 and spent the whole year crying and begging her to go outside. Just once. Just for a minute. Because I was starting to forget what fresh air smelled like or how it felt to have grass prickle against your bare feet or how the stars lit up the night sky in Hampshire. There are no stars in the middle of London. Not outside my window. Not in this room.

And then the WIP I have the least progress on (literally almost nothing) but I so desperately want to write and could really use a thought partner to help me brainstorm/plot/figure out what the hell I'm doing--- a canon divergence where Simon successfully exposes Baz as a vamp and Malcolm steps the fuck up as a father. Here's a bit of Simon POV:

It didn't matter anyway. Pitch Manor was empty. While [the Mage] ranted and raved, I wandered into Baz’s living room. The TV was still on. Peppa the Pig was playing. A half-dressed Barbie was splayed on the couch next to a small bowl of grapes, all cut in half. I picked up the doll and brushed her tangled hair out of her face.  Why didn’t I know Baz had a sister? A family that ate snacks together in front of the TV? Parents who loved him so dearly they fled their whole lives under cover of night? In the days that followed, I sat in meeting after meeting with the Coven, listening to The Mage. He demanded the casting of tracking spells, pushed through more dark creature reforms, and rambled about the miscarriage of justice and the dangers of harbouring monsters.  But Baz wasn’t a monster.  He was just a boy.  A scared boy.  A boy who ran because he wanted to live. 

Anyway...here's to accountability via tumblr. Maybe once I've slept for several weeks and feel more refreshed I won't be so frustrated by every word I know, or more precisely, all the beautiful ones I can’t seem to find…

Thanks for the tag @bookish-bogwitch. Cannot wait to devour the new chapter of BPD!

Hellos and high-fives to all. May your words (and art) be faring better than mine: @raenestee, @cutestkilla, @roomwithanopenfire, @facewithoutheart

@emeryhall, @artsyunderstudy, @aristocratic-otter, @larkral, @rimeswithpurple

@drowninginships, @valeffelees, @shrekgogurt, @blackberrysummerblog, @iamamythologicalcreature

@run-for-chamo-miles, @thehoneyedhufflepuff, @arthurkko, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @youarenevertooold

@beastmonstertitan, @supercutedinosaurs, @rbkzz, @fiend-for-culture, @theearlgreymage

@brilla-brilla-estrellita, @skeedelvee, @ic3-que3n, @talentpiper11, @ivelovedhimthroughworse

[bakedbakermom]

Sharing is Caring rated X // 33k // kinktober MFM threesome

Prologue: Three's Company (ao3)

Scully and Mulder have a little talk.

She sighs, gathering herself, and then it comes out carefully, tremulously, flustered and flirty at the same time. “Have you ever had a threesome, Mulder?”

Author's Notes:

Hello my dearest friends! It is my deepest pleasure to welcome you to my MSR Kinktober Smut-a-Thon. I wrote the first draft of this in a 17-day, lust-filled haze back in April-May ’24, the words pouring forth from my fingertips without my conscious will. The smut fairy kidnapped me, locked me in her basement, did wonderful, utterly unspeakable things to me—and then released me, covered in glitter and clutching 20k of the most intense smut I have ever written. I then had to go back and write Sweet Surrender to prime the pump (so to speak) and figure out what a sub!Scully head-space would really look like, and let that inform the second draft... which, as you can see, took on a life of its own. I don’t even know how to describe this fic. It’s my masterpiece, my smutty magnum opus, 33k of delicious, kinky adventure. It’s a single night of rough, fun, dirty sex between three extremely hot people. It’s longer than Animal Farm. It’s got bondage and spanking and DP, oh my! There are big feelings and sweet moments and—I kid you not—character development. You will laugh. You will cry. You will sneak off for a little private time, and I wish you all the best. It killed my computer, twice, and my poor beta a thousand times more. At times I felt like I was just standing in the room, frantically scribbling down notes while the characters had their fun. Scenes bloomed like roses; lines of dialogue came to me as if I were hearing them aloud. Surprises leapt off the page that I did not see coming. Themes wove themselves through and I only saw them when I sat back at the very end, like strands of gold in the rich tapestry of smut. I also think I invented a new literary device I am calling “Chekhov’s Pavlov,” so keep an eye out for that. This feels very much like a “What were YOU doing at the Devil’s Sacrament?” story for me. It’s a very vulnerable thing to share kinks this deep (even if they’re not all mine), but then again, you’re here reading it. Just a reminder, never mistake fanfic for reality; these are Barbies I’m smushing together, not real people with flesh and bones and feelings. RACK is best. Eternal thanks to my beloved beta, @onlineproblems, who bore witness to this entire breakdown and encouraged it in real time. Thank you for indulging my insanity, checking my grammar, and catching my dangling modifiers before they fall. Thank you for making me giggle with delight and swoon with gratitude with your insightful comments and notes. Thank you for holding my hand as I ate myself alive with nerves. And endless thanks for your art, oh god, your absolutely stunning art, which will live in my heart (and on my walls) forever. There is no one else I trust to pick my nits and bring this world to life. My love, my precious ghostly smut wife, I am squeezing your cheeks and you kissing you softly on the mouth. Now, without further adieu… Welcome to the Devil’s Sacrament, sweetheart. Shall we dance?

tagging @today-in-fic @ao3feed-msr