#my god sorry for the yap attack on this one

[rainymitskicain]

Fallingforyou

Pairing: Bob Floyd x fem!reader

Summary: You and Bob go stargazing, and you finally break the unspoken tension that’s been lingering around you both for years

Warning: friends to lovers, incorrect constellation discussion, reader is a yapper who goes off on tangents, Bob is a little sassy here, make out sesh, reader is described as wearing panties, reader has a lisp when she talks really fast, just pure fluff really with a lil spice

Word Count: 700

The night sky was bright and full of stars, which was unusual for the San Diego sky (yay light pollution), but Bob knew a spot where you could see the stars for miles in the San Diego mountains.

That’s where you and Bob lay now, in the bed of his truck, wrapped in blankets as you star gazed.

You lay on Bob’s chest, handing him a gummy worm every so often as you tried to point out all the different constellations.

“Aaaand that one is Orion, you see how it kinda looks like a warrior ready to fight? Yeah, yeah and that one right there, that’s the Draco constellation, see it looks like a dragon. You know that’s actually where they got the name of those characters in that book I told you about. All the family members are -”

You drone on, yapping about constellations and books, getting carried away all the while Bob looked at you with adoration, nodding along with you, half-listening and half-taking you in. The excitement on your face, how your lisp slipped out whenever you got really hyped up about a subject.

Gosh, he could look at you for hours like this and never get tired.

Noticing his lack of response, you nudge Bobs side before asking with a little sass, “Hey, I’m not boring you, am I?”

Bob shook his head, a playful smile on his face “You? Boring me? No way, I love hearing about how Orion was turned into stars because he was killed by a scorpion and Zeus felt bad, so he turned him AND the scorpion into constellations. Real riveting stuff right there.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry I’m not as interesting as Mr. ‘let me explain to you the history of the naval aviation in under 5 hours.’ 5 hours Bob, 5 hours I won’t get back”

“Oh really? That's how you feel?” “Yeah, really.” “Ok, you asked for this.”

He attacked your sides, and you laughed, almost screamed trying to get away “No, oh, my” you shrieked, struggling as he barraged you with tickles, “Ah-oh-please Bob–Bo–Bo Bob oh my god stoooop.”

Finally, he granted you mercy and let go. You slumped to the side out of breath, and he laid beside you, stroking your hair “I’m sorry, you just made it so easy”

You both laughed this time, and as it died down, you found yourselves even closer together, getting lost in each other’s eyes, a tension starting to form the longer you laid there

Bob pushed a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, cupping your cheek as he did, inching closer.

You stayed frozen, anticipation eating away. Is this going to happen? Finally? After years of dancing the line between best friends and something more. About time.

Bob lips where ghosting over yours, inches away as he whispered, “Do you want this as much as I do?”

Instead of answering, you closed the gap between you two and it was like a fire ignited. You kissed like he’d be your last, years of pinning and emotional repression all culminating in this one kiss.

He gripped your hips, and you tugged at the back of his hair, causing him to gasp as you slipped your tongue in.

He made a noise of surprise before pulling you completely onto his lap as you straddled his waist. You're both getting lost in the heat of the moment, grinding against one another, hands in each other's hair.

Then you both pulled away, foreheads resting against one another, breathing hard. His face red, glasses foggy; your hair disheveled and panties wet. You stroked his cheek as you finally answered, “I’ve been falling for you every day for years.”

With that, he kissed you again, this time slow, tender, savoring your taste, “And I've been in love with you since the day we met.”

A/N: Hope y’all like this! First Bob Floyd fic! I was debating making it a bit longer to add a lil smut, but idk

Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated! Love ya!

Please do not copy or repost. Love and thank you all!

[eatsbooks]

I saw Beron and overstim and the rest of the words blurred lmao. What type of women do you think he likes?

Also please share more about the Tamlin rescuing Iphigenia idea. I mean it would even fit the myth if she was thought dead but was somehow transported away so I fully support it. Although I get it if you'd rather she stay dead.

trust me i'm with you on that one lmaooo — i think in bearing and physicality, he very much prefers females that remind him of what loa was like before he found out about her affair. (which plays out about as complicated mentally for him as you can imagine. which is taken out on the females who arouse him, as you can imagine.) he likes them with fire, with spark, with power, because he likes when that yields to him. like everything else, they are his dominion. part of why he was attracted to iphigenia specifically is because he could tell she had once been noble and still carried herself with that dignity, as if even for the fact that she was a bed slave just like the rest of them, she was better than it. i also think he is an ass man. like father like son :•)

my mind is a multiverse where all things are possible don't u worry. she's definitely (deeply unfortunately because i am enamored with her) dead in the main verse, but in an alternate universe, she is alive and healing! i'm still workshopping how they would actually meet, but i think it would be set around/post silver flames. tamlin gathers himself enough to attend some sort of autumn court function that necessitates him staying the night at the forest house. beron Does Not Share obviously, but emile has hatched another ploy to rise in beron's esteem. he knows beron wants to move in on the spring court, so he basically goes to iphigenia and says: bed tamlin and get information out of him that i can pass on, or i will tell my father that you whored yourself to tamlin intentionally. which would effectively ruin her to him and open her up to the unknown threats of other autumn nobility.

so iphigenia has no option. she arrives at tamlin's guest chambers just after he retires, fae wine in hand for her to serve him. emile instructed her to dress in spring court fashion. (it suits her. very much.) tamlin can obviously immediately guess at what's going on, but she's visibly distressed when he tries to turn her away. he knows she's a spy for someone, but he can also tell it's not of her free will. he figures he can at least let her stay long enough to make it seem like she put in an effort. they get to drinking; they get to chatting. she doesn't admit anything outright, but he knows enough about autumn to put some pieces together. tamlin is noble and fair and has nothing to lose. he asks, would you like to come to spring with me? and in asking, he feels something he has not felt for a long time stir in him. it flees so quickly he can't be sure it was there at all.

this is a gamble for iphigenia, obviously—and she has heard plenty about this high lord. she's too young to have lived through the disparagement of him and the youngest vanserra, but she's heard rumors passed down, and she's heard plenty about his siding with hybern. she ultimately figures at the very least, he's her best shot at ever leaving the forest house. she can figure out getting away from him later. so she says yes, but they have to leave right now, before lord emile can intercede, before the high lord notices her missing. tamlin is like not at all concerned about the threat of them, but it's not like he wants to be here for [insert whatever i come up with to get him to autumn overnight], so they dip out. emile notices. tries to stop him at the border. tamlin just flat out decks emile and keeps it pushin. iphigenia's like holy shit that was hot maybe i'll stick with him for now. hopefully emile is smart enough to fake her death to avoid beron's wrath at his spectacular failure—or smart enough to get drunk and go to eris so he can.

and then ultimately, iphigenia is just a really good balance for tamlin. she's well-spoken and courtly; she's savvy and intelligent. she can take up for him socially in a way that's similar to the role lucien embodied. in her is also like ... an opportunity to do things right this time. an opportunity to reconnect with who he once was: dependable, loyal, well-meaning, dutiful, good. for iphigenia, tamlin is just like a shock to the system. even down bad as he is when they meet, he shows her more respect and courtesy than she ever knew at the forest house. he treats her—not even like a lady, as she remembers from her youth, but like a person. she has all these preconceptions not only of how high lords act but how they will treat her, and he dismantles all of them one by one. also he canonically munches box like a starving man and that would be really healing for her too, since she has really only ever known sex as pain and performance and the prioritization of someone else's pleasure above her own

[ghostlycamil4]

YOU WRITE SO WELL !!! (,,>﹏<,,)

i have a req for bf!katsuki — yknow its late at night they’re cuddling, when reader just gets a random burst of affection so she starts yapping about how much she loves him cus ugh he’s so squeezable and reader doesn’t even realize she’s yapping until she realizes he’s staring agape,, cus he isnt exactly the best w words as we all know . SORRY IM SUCH A YAPPER WHEN I FEEL INTENSE EMOTIONS LMAO DOES THIS MAKE SENSE

thank you !

𝐵𝑎𝑘𝑢𝑔𝑜: 𝐶𝑒𝑟𝑡𝑖𝑓𝑖𝑒𝑑 𝑀𝑢𝑠𝑐𝑙𝑒 𝑇𝑒𝑑𝑑𝑦

STOP this req was so cute i literally melted while writing it 😭 thank u sm for sending it in fr, it was so fun to write!! <3

You lifted your head slightly, just enough to look at him. Bakugo had his eyes closed, blonde lashes resting against his cheeks, his usually furrowed brow incredibly relaxed, and that involuntary pout forming on his lips when he was half-asleep.

Your eyes softened. Your chest tightened with tenderness. How was it possible that someone so explosive, so rough, could look so insanely adorable?

You couldn’t resist. Your fingers slid into his hair, tangling in the soft strands.

And without meaning to, you started talking.

"How can someone be this handsome even while half-drooling in their sleep…?" you murmured, a dumb little smile dancing on your lips. "Like, seriously. You’re basically a muscley teddy bear."

Your fingers traced soft circles against his temple as you spoke, and without realizing it, your voice started getting louder.

"And your arms, god… do you even know how safe I feel here? Like a bulletproof capsule but hot! And that pout, Katsuki. You're literally huggable. Unbearably adorable. You’re my weakness. I wanna crawl into your hoodie and never come out."

The body beneath you tensed just a bit, like a tic. You didn’t notice.

"Sometimes I catch myself thinking about how you act all tough and grumpy all the time, but then you go and do stuff like… grab my hand when we cross the street, or fix my helmet on the bike even when I say I know how to do it. How the hell am I not supposed to be hopelessly in love with you, dumbass? How am I not gonna wanna bite your face from loving you so damn much?"

At that moment, one of his eyebrows twitched and one of his cheeks lit up, coloring with a warm red that didn’t match the whole 'stoicism' he was trying to keep up.

"Katsuki… you awake?"

Silence.

"You’re faking it," you accused softly, laughing under your breath.

"Tsk… shut up," he growled suddenly, voice hoarse and rough with sleep, but unmistakably embarrassed.

His eyes were still squeezed shut, his whole body stiff like he could physically ward off the affection crashing down on him. His hand twitched at your waist.

"Shit… what are you even sayin’, dumbass," he mumbled, half into the pillow now. "You’re gonna give me a fuckin’ heart attack."

He finally exhaled hard through his nose, like he was trying to shake something off.

"How the fuck d’you expect me to sleep with all those cheesy-ass declarations raining down on me?"

"Sorry, I’m a yapper when I get excited," you said, covering your mouth like it could somehow erase all the love-drunk nonsense that had just spilled out of it.

Bakugo groaned under his breath, clearly flustered beyond repair. He rolled onto his side, wrapping both arms around you and burying his face into the crook of your neck.

"Can’t believe I’m in love with such a damn menace," he muttered, the words muffled but real.

Still, his heart was beating faster than normal. You felt it. So did he.

And as you hid your face in the warmth of his skin, giggling in sheer embarrassment, he opened his eyes just for a second, gaze unfocused on the shadowed ceiling.

"Fuckin’ hell… I wanna bite you too, with how goddamn much I love you."

But he didn’t say it. Not yet.

Content @ghostlycamil4 2025. Do not copy or modify.

[shapelytimber]

Still cooking :D (Please don't spoil me ectect but I am so close to going to moonrise towers lezgooo just have to finish the Shar temple and Yugir fight-)

[COMMISSIONS]

omfg madame you are dumb as bricks fjdkkd but she's funny ! And very cute :) love her little idle animations or the fact she has a teddy bear that's so fucking endearing- Pervert ass portrait btw jfkfkd with this offering, may my lesbo friends be merciful the next time we see each other for putting Karlach so low in my ranking <3

[Astarion] - [Lae'zel] - [Wyll] - [Shadowheart] - [Karlach] - [Gale]

More yapping and sketch below vvv

I don't have her often in my party tho :/ in fact she's the one I use the less (sorry Karlach)- maybe next time around. But is it just me (once again don't spoil me please), or does she have less of an important role in the story as the others ? Maybe it'll come in act 3 idk but so far : Shadowheart has the whole Shar worshiping the artifact and memory thing ; Lae'zel had the crèche a meeting with her god queen and the Githyankis are directly linked to the Mind Flayers ; Astarion has Cazador the scars the worm enthusiasm and directly interacts with Raphael ; Gayle is a fucking bomb and fumbled the goddess of magic herself ; and Wyll has Mizora with the contract and his father getting kidnapped- what does Karlach have ? Former Zariel attack dog ? idk if we'll meet them since Mizora is way more mentioned than them and why would we go to Avernus (at least before one of her endings)- Her engine ? Yeah but that feels less connected to the story and it only involves her... Her story feels very linked to Wyll's, like with how you recruit her, the fact she knows Mizora, how choosing to spare her made Wyll a demon... and it ends up benefiting his character way more than hers- She's not even on the loading screen art fkgkfl and that's a bit sad

I am planning on doing all six main companions :) of course in order from my favorite to the one I feel most neutral about. Don't get me wrong I like them all (for now), but one had to be last-

[anyarose011]

Born Too Late III: "It Ain't Me, Babe"

Pairing: DBF!Michael 'Robby' Robinavitch x Reader

Summary: You're not out of the woods even after your roommate's crazy ex-boyfriend beat you to a pulp. Over a series of setbacks pushing you to the brink of several panic attacks (or is it just one really long one?), you still manage to find refuge in a few, safe people. But, in the words of Doechii "And just when it couldn't get worse", the worst possible person finds out about you and Robby...

Part 3 of 3 (Masterlist)

Warning(s): Past Physical Assault, Blood, Inevitable Medical Inacuracies, Allusion/Mention of Sexual Assault, ANGST, Trent and Kimi, Reader has valid crashout(s), Healing of Daddy Issues?, Rant about a Real Criminology Concept, and a Realistic but Open-Ending.

I do have to say that this was one of my favorite stories to write on here. Not even for the purpose of Robby x Reader, I just loved the dynamics of all the characters and plot overall. I truly hope that the ending doesn't seem like a cop out; my intention was to write it as real as possible, especially since this all took place in one day. I'm tempted to write a prequel to this, showing all of the "missing scenes" alluded to throughout the story with Robby. We'll see how I feel lol. Thank you guys for ALL your interest, and hope you enjoy the ending! Sorry not sorry about the length, I yap 😭

Word Count: 9.2k

There were people you knew who had resting bitch faces. Dennis Whitaker was the first person you met to have a resting scared face.

That, and it was also because he asked you if you were okay, and you didn’t say anything.

He called your name. “Are you okay?”

Your mouth trembled as you tried to find the words. What left your lips must have been from the depths of your subconscious.

“Where-where’s my dad?”

You were outside of your body, but you couldn’t even see yourself. Hell, you didn’t feel like yourself.

Whitaker furrowed his brow. “Your…your dad?”

All you could do was nod.

“I’m not sure.” He responded gently. “Can I take your hand?”

You nodded, swallowing thickly. You wanted to cry, but you didn’t know why you couldn’t. Whitaker took your hand, leading you alongside him.

“I’m sorry I haven’t talked to you in a bit; I know things have been crazy.” He smiled reassuringly.

“It’s okay.” You whispered.

“Have you eaten anything besides chocolate today?”

You shook your head. “Have you?”

“No.” He laughed. “We can go get something from one of the vending machines in the break room.”

“I want to go home.”

God, could you sound even more like a sniveling child?

Whitaker stopped just a few feet away from the elevator and so did you. He got a better look at you; either that, or he was finally saying everything he first noticed when he ran into you.

 “What happened to your nose?” He asked gently. “It’s kinda swollen.”

“I don’t know.”

Why did you say that so swiftly?

He frowned. “Were you crying just now? I think some of your mascara got onto your cheeks.”

Instinctively, you wiped your face with your free hand as if you would find any residue. You shook your head.

“It’s nothing.”

Whitaker took a deep breath, lowering his voice and saying your name. “I’m going to be honest, I think you should get checked out by someone here. It doesn’t have to be me, but I think something bad happened to you. You don’t have to tell me-.”

“-I’m fine.”

“But please, let me help you.”

It felt wrong, how he wanted to. No, it was his job to do that; there’s no way someone could see right through you when you were actually not doing well. You had relationships (friendships and romantic) where you had to earn the privilege of people caring for you.

You’d gotten used to it. Mainly with Kimi but also others who you thought were safe.

It felt like your skin was burning, and it was only then you realized you were still holding his hand. So, you dropped it.

“Thank you,” you felt like a puppet on strings as your mouth moved. “but really I’m fine.”

“Did you drive here?”

He wasn’t giving up.

“Yes.” You sighed. “I know what you’re doing, I can-.”

“-One of the guys on the night shift got here early and discharged me.” He interrupted, yet somehow, you weren’t annoyed. “We can go get your stuff and then get dinner. Anywhere you want, my treat. I mean, as long as it’s not like over a hundred bucks or something.”

You wondered if he was smiling out of nerves or trying to cheer you up. In your experience, it was usually both.

“I’ll drive.” You stated.

He thinned his lips. “You had a rough day; I can do it.”

You snorted. “So, if you’re driving my car, how are you getting home?”

“I’ll call an Uber.”

Usually, you would’ve made a joke about his male privilege and being so carefree about taking an Uber home late at night, but circumstances didn’t allow you to. Still, as if it hadn’t been one of the worst days of your life, a watery smile pulled onto your lips.

The ‘ding!’ of the elevator beside you made your head turn, and the doors slid open. Standing there, was Trent, seething. Blood coursed down from his nose to his chin, and where you once saw nothing behind his eyes, they were now filled with the rage you knew all too well.

You met his gaze the same time your soul left your body.

“You fucking bitch!” He charged you.

It happened all so fast.

Trent was just a hair away from you one moment, the next, Whitaker flung you behind him. You landed onto the ground, and when you looked up, you saw Whitaker go face first onto the floor beside you.

Crying in horror, you grabbed onto a nearby cart and pulled yourself onto your feet. Everything playing in your ears was simply noise; people were yelling and screaming, but you couldn’t make out a word they were saying.

It was only your eyes you could trust.

If they did not deceive you, you watched Jack Abbott tackle Trent to the ground; the first one to do so…When did he get there?

And, it was then that your vision began to blur as tears clouded your sight, that part of your hearing returned. As you stood there, with Jack holding Trent down, for verbatim, you heard.

“Did you get off my little girl when she told you to?!”

Someone wrapped their arm around your shoulders, turning you away, but something in your body told you that they were safe. You could barely see anything as you were led through the ER; only hazy objects and blaring lights. Someone was talking in your ear too, but again, it was just all noise upon the noise coming from the catastrophe behind you.

 You hadn’t even realized you were clinging to the person like a buoy in an ocean you were stranded in until you heard a door slide shut behind you. Like a miracle, your vision started clearing up, and air entered through your nose and into your lungs.

Then, the taste of blood on your tongue.

You touched your nose, pulling your hands away to see them coated in red.

Melissa King gently called your name, placing her hand on your back.

“You should sit down.” She moved away from you to dim the lights, and your eyes caught sight of one Heather Collins in the room as well, prepping one of the beds.

Somehow, just at the sight of a medical bed, did you finally realize how much everything hurt.

Yet, you couldn’t rest.

The little girl, practically a baby, the one who got stung by a bee, you had to make sure she was okay, you had to-!

Collins rested her hands on your shoulders, stopping you. “It’s okay. Robby checked on her a minute ago, she’s fine. You need to sit down.”

Did you say all of that aloud? Could she read your mind? Oh God, if she could, then does she know-?!

“-Holy fucking shit!” Santos opened the door, and you never knew her face could morph into such fear. “Are you okay?”

You shook your head. “Is Dennis okay?!”

He threw himself in front of you and was fucking pummeled to the floor!

Santos looked out the door before looking back. “I’m gonna be honest, his nose kinda looks messed up. But hey, you’re twinning.”

“Santos!” Collins scolded.

“Right, you’re right.” She nodded. “I’m so sorry I-.”

“-I heard you had a spinal tap to do.” Collins interrupted.

“I’ll go.” Santos gave one last look to you. “I’ll talk to you later, I swear.”

And then she left. It wasn’t the strangest, nor the quickest, interaction you had with someone…but fucking hell, this day.

Mel said your name again, but this time, strained. You looked at her and saw her gaze downwards at your pants. Following it, you saw blood seeping through the fabric around your groin.

Your jaw trembled as you looked back up at both her and Collins. As professionals, you knew they had seen worse than this. As women, you could see that familiar look of horror on their faces.

“He didn’t do anything.” Were your first words. “Not like that.”

“Baby…” Collins uttered.

“No, no,” You resisted. “I’m on my period! I-I-Mel, you gave me a pad this morning. I got him off me and-and I got it out and put it in his face so he’d stay off. I-I-I mean he bragged about pulling a girl’s tampon out of his mouth one time, so I didn’t think he’d overreact.”

What were you even saying?!

“I’ve had sex before! I-I would know, I would know if that bastard did something to me and-and-!” You hiccupped, feeling more blood seep through your nose and into your mouth.

“It’s okay,” Collins soothed. “we believe you. Can you sit down so I can assess you?”

What other choice did you have?

Sitting on the edge of the bed, you tried to catch the blood still gushing out of your nose before it could get on more of your clothes. Too late for that.

Mel went to one of the drawers nearby as Collins held up her finger. “Follow it.”

You did; passed with flying colors.

“EOM is intact.” She told herself, then took a mini flashlight from her pocket, shining it in your eyes. “Pupils are reactive. Do you have a headache?”

“Kinda.”

“Does it hurt to breathe through your nose?”

“Weird, but doesn’t hurt.”

Mel came beside you with a handful of tissues and a nasal tampon. “I’m going to clean up the area around your nose, and this should pack the bleeding.”

You hummed. “You got one for me to put between my legs?”

She shook her head.

“Extra pants?”

Collins slipped off her sweatshirt, draping it over your legs. “I got some in my locker, plus a pad.”

You nodded, getting choked up. “Thank you.”

“Mel,” she looked at her. “could you finish up?”

She affirmed. “Of course.”

“I’ll grab some icepacks.”

Collins left, leaving you alone with Mel. It felt strange; both your body and the entire day. Still, Mel wasn’t one to dwell on it, unlike you.

She brought the tissues up to your nose. “Your gonna feel some pressure.”

You grunted as she placed the Kleenex onto your nostrils. The white tissues turned red, and she carefully slid the tampon into your left nostril. Apparently, that was the only one bleeding.

Mel placed her thumbs on your face. “Tell me when you feel pressure.”

They traveled up around the area of your nose, and it was only when she touched the septum did you hiss in pain. Mel walked back over to the drawer, then taking out a few wet wipes.

“Well,” she hunched over, cleaning the blood off of you as gently as she could. “it’s not misshapen, so that’s good. It’s not broken either. Swollen and bruised, but all you really need are icepacks and I could get you some pain medication.”

“Could you take pictures?” You asked out of the blue.

 “I’m sorry?”

“Police usually take pictures of injuries for evidence, but could you?” You explained. “I just want to get it out of the way.”

Mel nodded. “Yeah, of course. Is it just your nose?”

You sighed. “No. It might be my head, I don’t know. He kicked me in the ribs…I think…yes, he did.”

“If you feel comfortable, would you want me to take pictures of those too?”

“Yes.” You said with certainty.

She backed up enough to give you space, taking out her phone. You decided to start with your ribs. They were tender, but thankfully, it wasn’t impossible to pull your shirt up. After Mel took a picture, you pulled it back down and she took a few photos of your nose and head.

“This is the worst photoshoot I’ve ever been in.” You joked.

“I’ve never been in one.” She stated.

“Let’s change that when the weather’s better.”

“Alright.” She put her phone away. “Now-.”

The door slid open, and in came Kimi like a bat out of hell.

“-What the hell did he do to you?!” She approached you.

Mel placed her hand on her shoulder. “You can’t be in here-.”

“-Fuck you, she’s my roommate.” She kneeled in front of you. “Baby, what happened?”

You hadn’t realized there was a long list of people you didn’t want to see at that moment, and she was near the top. You looked away, scowling and slipping the tampon out of your nose. Luckily, the blood finally stopped.

She didn’t take that as you being angry with her. She huffed. “Motherfucker. What’d you say to him?”

You finally looked at her. “What?”

“I’m just asking.” She explained. “He’s never done this before when I was a bitch, so you probably pissed him off-.”

You laughed. “-You’re an idiot.”

Kimi’s eyes shifted. At first, she was confused, then it quickly seeped into appalment. “What do you mean?”

You fell into a fit of giggles like Alice did down the rabbit hole. “I have told you hundreds, thousands, of times that whenever Trent hit something near you or me, then he actually wanted to hit one of us!”

Standing up, you weren’t laughing now. “And my God, I have never met someone who hates themselves so much, they bring a baby into the world for validation. But no, no, no, they’re not expecting to get it from the kid, they’re so fucking stupid they still think they’ll get it from the dad!”

The door slid open gently, and Collins came back in, carrying the pants, a single pad, and an ice pack. She said nothing.

Kimi didn’t lash out, and that’s what terrified you. Tears flew down her cheeks as you yelled at her, but she took a deep breath once you were finished.

“So, what should I do? Fuck my fifty-year-old boss?” She huffed. “How’s that working out for you?”

She marched out of the room, past Collins.

A part of you wished that Trent had killed you in the bathroom; you couldn’t feel shame if you were dead.

If not that, then you wished he somehow blinded you; just so that you wouldn’t have to see the way Heather Collins’s face dropped at the revelation.

Those two seconds in that room were brutal after Kimi left. Just where your gaze could only fall to the floor, and you didn’t even want to imagine the looks Mel and Collins were giving each other; or you.

“She has whiplash.” Collins said. “She can’t leave alone unless she signs an AMA.”

Just like that, you felt Mel hover her hand over your shoulder before retracting it and rushing out of the room. You stood there like a child who had just been yelled at, and didn’t dare to even breathe.

“How about we put these on?”

And Heather spoke to you like you were still one, but not with any hint of disdain in her voice. Hesitantly, you looked up and saw her holding the pants out to you. With shaking hands, you took them in yours.

She picked up her sweatshirt from the floor. “I’ll cover you. You can turn around if that makes you more comfortable.”

You nodded, and she draped the sweatshirt in front of you, giving you privacy from any peering eyes outside. Slowly, after getting your pants down to your knees, you slipped your underwear down; your ribs aching with every move. You managed to secure the pad, and as you tried to pull your pants all the way down, the sharpness in your side forced a hiss out of you.

“You need help?” She asked.

You shook your head immediately but seethed and clutched your ribs when you tried again. Collins set her sweatshirt aside, placing a comforting hand on your back and dropping down.

“I got it.”

She helped you out of your bloodied pants, and you placed your hands on her shoulders as you put one leg into each hole of the pants she got for you. Your eyes watered at the familiar feeling; how old were you the last time you did this? Seven? It’s so strange to remember such a small thing as your mother dressing you, not knowing when it would be the last time.

“There we go.” Collins smiled, standing back up, then guiding you to sit back down on the bed.

“I’m sorry.” You finally managed to say, even if it was barely above a whisper.

She shook her head, handing you an ice pack. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

She hates you. You told yourself.

You saw Kiara come to the door, and your heart leapt into your chest. She waited as Collins cracked it open, and they talked in hushed tones. In the end, Kiara came in and she sat at your side.

You had to cross your arms to keep yourself from throwing them around her. You doubt she would’ve cared, but it was strange; at that moment, you wanted to be held, but still would’ve felt like you were suffocating.

“Hey.” She greeted gently.

“Where is he?” You asked.

 “Well,” she began, not knowing exactly who you were asking for. “Whittaker’s being checked on, and he won’t stop asking if you’re alright. Trent was secured in a room, but the police just arrived so he’s in custody now. They want to talk to you, is that okay?”

You nodded. “If it’s a fucking man, I’m leaving.”

“There’s a woman.” She comforted. “She already volunteered to speak with you. At any point, if you want to stop-.”

“-I won’t.”

She said your name, warning but not to scare you. “I know you want justice; we all do. Still, you have to do what is best for you in the moment. You have every right to react the way you need to. Do you want Dr. Collins to be in here?”

You shook your head.

“Alright.” Kiara looked at her. “Could you send in officer Moreno, please?”

Collins nodded. “I’ll be back to check on you.”

Before you could say that her shift was over, she left. There you sat with Kiara, staring at an empty corner of the room. Without thinking, you laid your head on her shoulder. She said nothing; just ran her hand up and down your back as the officer came in.

It was different being the one to tell the police what happened to you. You were either in the cop’s position asking questions, or Kiara’s, just being a support for the other person.

Officer Moreno was nice enough. She never pushed you, but she wasn’t exactly comforting either. You understood she just wanted everything to write a report for, but you knew this wouldn’t be the last person you’d have to talk to.

The more you spoke about what happened to you in the last fifteen minutes (fuck…was that all it’d been?), the heavier your body became. You didn’t even feel a hint of fear or sadness within you; just the aching in your nose, and the exhaustion that swept over you.

Officer Moreno asked to take photos of your injuries, and you told her you’d taken them already, saying you’d give them to her.

“You’re efficient.” She complimented.

I have to be; you wouldn’t do anything if I wasn’t. You said in your head, but aloud you uttered. “Thanks.”

She left you with a phone number to send pictures to the police, a case number if you “remember anything else”, and a “Goodnight.”

That left you and Kiara together.

“Where’s Kimi?” You asked.

“She was calling her mom to pick her up last time I checked.” She answered. “Do you need a ride home?”

You shook your head. “I’ll get my dad to.”

“Dr. Abbott’s on call right now.”

Of course she knows.

“I can do it.” She offered.

“Kiara.” You said. “I’ll call a friend from my building.”

“I just want you to get home safe.”

“I will.” You smiled. “You’ve been here longer today. Go home.”

She sighed, standing. “You’re not coming in tomorrow. I’ll get Zidan to escort you out if you do.”

You forgot who that was for a moment, until you remembered him as the security guard. You were going to have to make him cookies or something; he probably had to deal with not just Trent, but a million other people.

Kiara said goodbye, giving you one last look before leaving. Just as you stood up to escape, Collins came back inside, carrying your purse and lunchbox.

“I’m sorry, I got the code from Jack.” She set them down. “How’re you feeling?”

You don’t know why, you had been asked that damn question countless times that day, but Collins asking it was the final nail in the coffin. Hours of repressed tears finally escaped your eyes, and you covered your mouth.

She immediately placed her hands on your arms, looking over you. “Are you in pain?”

“I’m sorry.” You hiccupped, rubbing your eyes.

“There’s nothing to-.”

“-Yes, there is!” You sobbed, and everything came out like a confession in a Catholic church. “I-I didn’t know you and Robby were together. I-I didn’t even know that he’d be a supervisor, or-or that I’d work with him, or even-or even that…”

Collins wrapped her arms around you, and you hid your head in her shoulder. She shushed. “I’m not mad.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No,” she pulled away, still holding onto you. “I’m not.”

You searched her face. You couldn’t find a hint of anger, but you knew she had to have felt something towards you. “Weren’t-weren’t you together…?”

“Not for a long time.” She shook her head.

You rubbed your face with your sleeve; you had cried all of your mascara off. Sighing, you picked up your belongings.

“I’ll wash your pants. Thanks.”

She laid a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Just wait a little bit.”

“You’re done with your shift, I’m done with mine.” You shrugged her off. “I’ll call a friend, I won’t drive.”

Except you would.

Collins said your name, and you only wished her goodnight, walking out the door. It was a miracle no one was instantly surrounding you, asking for answers to questions you had no energy to even listen to. You were making your way to the door to Chairs when-.

Your name left your stepfather’s mouth. You glanced to the side and saw him making a beeline towards you from across the room. Without any uncertainty, you turned around and walked back where you came from.

Like a demon in the night, you felt panic fester within you once again, just when you thought it was all over. You weren’t running, but your legs began to burn alongside your chest as you tried to find the nearest exit.

You pushed your way outside and found yourself in the ambulance bay. Still, despite there being only two paramedics and one security guard, there were still too many people. Your vision blurred once again, and you limped against the wall until you found the small opening to the alleyway.

Collapsing against the brick wall, you dropped everything you were holding and hid your eyes in your hands.

And you cried; really, truly cried.

Then crying turned into sobbing, then to weeping, then into you having to cover your mouth as you started wailing. You didn’t know when the walls of the alleyway started closing in on you, and neither did you know if it was your own shame or the walls crushing you to the point where it hurt to breathe.

You couldn’t even think. Every time you panicked, the weight of the world and all of your actions came into your head like a horrible flicker. Not now; no, there was nothing but white, hot pain.

“Put your head between your legs.”

They were just words. You couldn’t recognize the voice, but you listened. Knees bent, you bowed your head.

“Breathe.” The voice said, and it sounded deeper. “In and out. In and out.”

You did. The countless times you had to coach someone through an anxiety attack coming back to you.

It must’ve been another minute before you could feel your heart slow down and hear the ordinary sounds of the night; a pleasant mix of the bugs on the ground beside you, and a near-distant ringing of an ambulance.

“Rough day?”

It was Robby. That was the voice who had guided you through the second panic attack that day…or was it your third? Or had you just been in one that lasted a full half-hour?

You laughed upon looking at him, shaking your head and drying your eyes.

He offered a pitiful smile. “That bad?”

“Yeah.” You heaved. “Does this mean I’m doing a good job at coping if I’m laughing?”

Robby shrugged. “If you don’t laugh, you’ll cry.”

“I’ve done too much of that today.”

He nodded, not saying anything. You rested your head against the brick wall. Maybe it was better that you saw him after all the shit that hit you in such a short amount of time. In the end, tears and all, the whole day was just ridiculous.

“Do you want me to tell you what happened?” You asked.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” He looked at you.

Sighing, you realized that, yes, you actually did.

“I wasn’t sexually assaulted.” You said it so easily. “It just…hurt, what he did. Nothing’s broken but I still feel like shit and it’s…it’s funny. I apologized. I was so unprofessional towards him, and I apologized, but he still did this. I did everything right and he still did this!”

Robby shook his head. “Don’t go down that road. Nothing you did to him could ever justify what he did to you.”

“No,” you didn’t even listen, tone laced with sarcasm. “I did so many things wrong now that I think about it. ‘Christie’s Ideal Victim, 1986’; there are five things that make the perfect victim. ‘She, always a she, is physically weaker than the attacker’; gold mine if she’s a kid or a grandma, so I did that wrong. ‘The victim is doing a respectable task when the attack happens’: I was having a mental breakdown, so debatable. ‘Next, the attack happens in a place she could not be blamed for being in’; I was in a sketchy as fuck bathroom in the basement, so yeah, my fault. ‘The offender is physically stronger’; holy shit, he was, so I did that one right! ‘Finally, the victim has no prior relationship to the offender; he is a stranger.’ Well shit, I failed the perfect victim test.”

He sighed, saying your name.

“I’m not done.” You said, voice shaking. “Now I added my own qualifications to this obviously bullshit concept we were taught for ‘educational purposes despite how out of date it is’. What did I add, you’re asking? Only pretty girls, only nice girls, only virgin girls, and only white girls. Those are the only girls that apparently are the perfect victims to a lot of people. It’s been almost forty years, and there are still people who believe it.”

Robby’s gaze never left you, even when you looked away from him, talking to the actual brick wall in front of you. Yet…he listened. He was quiet after you finished, but only to let you breathe.

“I didn’t know any of that.” He finally said. “It’s horrible.”

You nodded. “I’m sorry, that teaching just always stuck with me and…”

“It came out tonight?” He asked.

“Yeah…” You brought your knees to your chest. “I’m gonna have to see Trent and Kimi again. Court, I think.”

“If you ever need-.”

“-I need a cigarette,” you tried to diffuse the pain, despite bringing it up. “that’s what I need.”

He scoffed. “Should’ve asked me five years ago. Anything else I could get for you?”

“Is there a Jewish prayer that kills someone?”

“You smoke and you’re religious?” He feigned shock, but you could still see inklings of it on his face. “Didn’t know you had so many secrets.”

“Answer the question, Robinavitch.”

“No.” He huffed. “Not that I know of, at least.”

“I’m not really religious either.” You sighed. “After the day I had though…”

He nodded. “I’ve been there.”

“You’ve been a girl lost in her twenties before?”

“I’m a son-of-a-bitch in my fifties, and I’m still lost.”

As if you shared a mind, you both laughed. It wasn’t loud or even jubilant; more so just an acknowledgement of how weird the whole situation was. There was a sense of familiarity with how you were talking to him.

How you and Michael joked around but also were capable of serious conversations, whether it was about personal struggles or just current events.

Now though? As you sat in an alleyway just outside of the place you discovered who Robby really was? There was more of an honesty; a shameless one.

“Makes sense,” you wheezed. “we fucked each other.”

Although he was getting over his laughter, he still asked. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

Your smile began to fall, but somehow, you couldn’t lose it fully. Call it insanity, or call it nerves, you still spoke with it.

“I mean…I actually liked you.” You admitted, and instead of feeling horrible, it felt better to finally say it. “I slept with you because you were nice, and you made me feel safe, not just because I had an itch or something. I knew we wouldn’t date or anything, but…I just really liked you.”

Robby had a horrible poker face when it came to women; he told you that when you first caught him smiling in a way you’d never seen a man smile at you before. Now, he was looking at you, face fallen into…not exactly pity, but something alike to it.

He took a deep breath. “I didn’t mean to hurt you; it was never my intention.”

“…You kissed my forehead the next morning, then left. I saw the note saying I could stay but…I felt stupid just waiting for you, so I went home. You didn’t leave me your number or anything else, then I didn’t see you again.” You sounded more confused than wounded. “I know I was stupid. You probably just wanted to feel younger and-.”

“-It mattered to me.” He stopped you. “Yes, there’s no way we can keep this up; I’m sorry, but it’s the truth. Don’t think that I regretted it, or that it didn’t mean anything to me. I liked you too.”

You genuinely didn’t expect him to be so vocal about it. It would’ve been easier for him to just nod and agree that it was nothing more than a primal feeling; no emotions on his side. Still, there he was, openly admitting it all.

You breathed in through your nose, despite how strange it felt. “I wish I was born the same year you were.”

Robby kept his eyes on your form, and when you glanced over at him, you wondered if his response would be ‘Me too.’

But it wasn’t.

“I wouldn’t have been good for you.” He confessed.

“Why not?”

He said your name, shaking his head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

You swallowed, knowing that he meant it. “Sorry.”

“No, it’s…” He sighed heavily. “You’re going to find the right person one day, and they’ll be your age-.”

A laugh left your mouth. Except, it wasn’t a spiteful or doubtful one, even Robby could tell. It was the most genuine and honest one you felt that day.

“I fucking knew it!” You bragged.

He snorted. “What?”

“You had to have had that line in the holster or something.”

“Maybe I’ve just seen too many movies.” He laughed with you.

The both of you just sat there in the peculiar change of emotions. Of course it wasn’t the strangest thing to happen to you that day. To add to it, you said.

“I’m wearing your ex-girlfriend’s pants. She and Dr. King know, by the way.” He snapped his gaze at you, and you thought he was going to go into cardiac arrest. You shrugged. “Collins she…it’s probably just because I got the shit beaten out of me, but she acted like she didn’t care.”

Robby looked back at the brick wall, taking it all in. After a while he said. “That’s why she looked like she was gonna kill me a second ago.”

You snorted. “When?”

“Before you ran out here.” He clarified. “Jack saw you, I told him I’d talk to you because he was technically on duty, Heather comes out guns blazing saying something like ‘Don’t say a word to her,’. She tried to go after you, but I managed to get her to go home.”

You pursed your lips, surprised at Collins’ protectiveness. “Wanna divide and conquer? I talk to King, you talk to Collins?”

He nodded. “Sounds good. You uh…you gonna be alright? Going home?”

Looking down at your shoes, you took a bit to think. You didn’t really want to go back to your apartment, and maybe Kimi would stay home with her mom…but you were immature, you had just been beaten to a pulp, and you didn’t want to talk to her on the small chance she was at your apartment.

“Yeah, I mean…” It was second nature to avoid the conflict, but you caught yourself. “I know Trent won’t be there, hopefully never again, but I don’t know how I feel around Kimi. I was a piece of shit for what I said, but I don’t know how safe I’ve felt around her for a while. I told her how I felt about her boyfriend, she saw how he treated both of us, and I feel horrible she’s with him, but I won’t be collateral damage again.”

Robby nodded, taking a deep breath. “I might be overstepping, and I get if it’s a last resort, but if you ever feel unsafe at your apartment, you’re welcome to sleep at mine.”

You furrowed your brow, scoffing. “Is that really professional?”

“Just be respectful; and unless you’re dying, you’re on the couch.”

You both chuckled, the overall day only becoming more ludicrous by the second. You decided to add onto it.

“So, save for Collins and King,” you held your pinky up. “swear to never tell anyone about us?”

He snickered. “Really?”

“Yeah, mutually assured destruction. Whoever tells, has their pinky broken.”

 “Makes perfect sense.” He locked his pinky with yours. “Do we have to swear on anything or-?”

“-Nope.” You let go. “Pinky sworn.”

It felt natural after that, how you moved to hug him with no hesitance. He responded in kind, enveloping you into his arms. It felt…different. When you thought of it, the only times you really embraced were in moments of desperation, passion, even.

Now, it was quiet. For the first time that day, you felt at peace; both in your body, and inside his arms.

When he pressed his lips to your cheek just for a second, while it brought back memories, it was simply innocent.

He pulled away first from you, and you rubbed your eyes. “Thanks. Sorry about everything.”

“Don’t be.” He said. “‘Let everything happen to you, beauty and terror. Just keep going, no feeling is final.’”

“Oh hell yeah,” you smiled. “Jojo Rabbit.”

He furrowed his brow, not hiding his amusement. “Rainer Maria Rilke.”

“Yeah, it was in Jojo Rabbit.”

“Really? Haven’t seen it.”

“Oh, you’d love it. It’s about a little German boy in the 1940s who has an imaginary friend, and you’ll never guess who it is!”

“I don’t think I want to know who it is.” He chuckled.

You hummed, feeling just a little better. You looked around the alleyway, feeling as if you weren’t outside of an ER. “No wonder this is Jack’s favorite place to have a mental breakdown.”

“I would’ve thought the roof?”

As soon as the words left his mouth, you saw that he wanted to take them back.

You blinked. “The…what?”

Well, there was something you had to talk to Jack about. It certainly wouldn’t be that night; too much to unpack.

“You didn’t hear it from me.” Was all Robby said, standing up and holding his hand out to you.

Sighing, you took it. “Think he’ll say more to me, or to you?”

“Whenever I find him up there,” he pulled you up. “I just guilt trip him into not jumping because that’s a horrible way to start a shift.”

“On parr with finding out you screwed the new hire?”

“Don’t push it.”

You snickered. “I’ll leave you alone. Have a good night.”

He wished you one as well, watching you go back into the ER, carrying all of your belongings. It seemed about as chaotic as you had known the night shift to be; although, it wasn’t even seven-thirty. There was one more person you wanted to see before you left.

Turns out though, there were two more who needed to speak with you.

“We’re not gonna ask if you’re okay because you’ll probably have an aneurysm.” Trinity Santos came up to you with Dennis Whitaker at her side. Her hair was down.

 “Okay?” You snickered, then looked at Whitaker. “Hey…thanks. I’m sorry your nose is fucked.”

He shook his head, offering a shy smile. “Don’t be. My brothers have hit me harder.”

“Aw, he’s just being modest.” Santos draped her arm around his shoulder. “He’s a regular ol’ Superman.”

“More like Clark Kent.” He corrected.

“Same person, Huckleberry.” She counter corrected. “Okay, so medically speaking, how are you doing?”

You pursed your lips. “Medically, my nose isn’t broken but always needs an icepack, I kinda have a headache, and my ribs hurt. Emotionally…everything.”

Santos nodded, a forlorn feeling upon her face; but somehow, you didn’t feel like she was pitying you. “I was about to beat the shit out of that guy if I didn’t have a baby coming in at the same time for a spinal tap. But we-Dennis has a proposition for you.”

All eyes fell on the poor boy whose nose bore a similar, semi-swollen resemblance to yours. He stumbled a little until he found the right words.

“We sometimes get together after a shift and watch a movie to decompress. We get food, and the person who had the worst day gets to choose the movie. We uh…we kinda appointed you, if you want to come. It wouldn’t be anything huge, just the three of us. That might be too much, and maybe you’re exhausted-.”

“-Oh,” you interrupted, crossing your arms. “so the only reason you’re inviting me to this secret movie club is because I got the shit beaten out of me?”

“No!” Whitaker gasped. “I-we just thought it’d be good to help overall after a stressful shift-.”

“Huckleberry,” Santos snickered. “she’s just fucking with you.”

He paused. “Oh…”

You smiled. “I’d love to. I uh…I technically shouldn’t be driving but my car’s here-.”

“-Do you mind stopping at Target to get some snacks?” Santos asked.

Pleasantly surprised by her question, you chuckled. “Um, no?”

“No sorry,” she laughed at herself. “I mean that I’ll drive your car, but is it okay if we get snacks on the way back to my place?”

“Oh! Yeah, sounds good.”

“Great!” She slipped her keys out of her pocket, holding them out to Whitaker. “You remember how to drive something other than a tractor, right?”

He made a face. “I’ve never driven a tractor before.”

“Bullshit, you told me you did.”

He shrugged. “Nebraska doesn’t even exist, why would I know how to drive a tractor?”

The conversation from earlier that day came to mind, and you saw in his eyes that he had it in mind as well. You smiled, turning your face down to hide it from the world. It had been a while since you had an inside joke with someone.

Whitaker took the keys. “I’m just kidding. Yeah, I’ll meet you guys there.”

“See you soon.” You wished him goodbye. Santos gave him a nod before he left. She turned to you, a shit eating grin on her face. You frowned. “What?”

“Nothing.” She shrugged. “Ready to go?”

“Actually, I need to talk to someone first.”

“Who?”

Ah fuck it, You decided.

“My stepdad.” You answered. “He works the nightshift.”

“Damn! Who?”

You smirked. “You’re welcome to follow me at a distance to see.”

She made a face as if debating it. “Nah, I’ll give you privacy.”

Smiling, you nodded. “I’ll see you out front?”

“See you.”

She left through the doors into Chairs. Sighing, you began your search for Jack. On the way, you said a quick ‘hello’ to Ellis and went to check up on the little girl who had a bee sting. She was still there, speaking with the same police officer you had.

Your name cut through the air, and you looked to your right, seeing Jack approaching you. He wore the same look on his face you’d only seen on parents who had just lost their child in a supermarket only to soon find them.

“Hey.” He greeted once he stood in front of you.

“Hi…” You said. “Uh…is it okay to talk? I don’t know if you’re busy-.”

“-Unless Death himself comes into the ER, we’re gonna talk.”

Jack Abbott had technically only been a father for a few years (who knows if you can even count all of them considering you barely were at home after high school?), but he somehow managed to perfectly blend his strict tone into one of reassurance.

So, the two of you walked into the breakroom, and he spoke first.

“How was the shift?”

You smiled, sitting at the table. “Aside from getting the shit beaten out of me by my roommate’s boyfriend? Pretty okay.”

He sat beside you. “That’s a win in my book.”

That was the thing you and Jack had in common the second your mom introduced you to him: dark humor. You never hated him, but you never exactly got close with him. Maybe it was time to change that?

“Are you still in any pain?” He asked.

“Nose is getting a little better but is still sore, and so are my ribs.”

Jack nodded. “You got a ride home tonight?”

“Yeah, I’m actually gonna go hang out with Santos and Whitaker at their place, and then…” You couldn’t finish it. What were you going to do? You didn’t have the strength anymore to lie, saying you’d drive back to your apartment where Kimi might be.

You refused to stay with Robby, maybe Santos and Whitaker would take pity on you?

“I don’t know.” You choked on your words. “I said some horrible things to Kimi, but she also blamed me for what Trent did, and I…I don’t wanna go back to the apartment.”

Jack’s eyes softened. “You still got a key to the house?”

“Yours? Yeah.”

 “If you want to, your room’s still the same.”

You hadn’t slept in it since your mother died. You’d sometimes drive home from college and sleep over, so both your mom and Jack left it alone.

“You didn’t change it?” You couldn’t believe it.

He shrugged. “It’d take more effort to turn it into something else. I mean, it’s probably dusty as hell, but your bed’s still there, all your weird little trinkets and stuff from high school too.”

You scoffed. “It’s only weird to you, grandpa.”

“Sure, Jan.”

Both of you snickered, falling back into a rhythm you hadn’t known you lost. As it died down, Jack asked.

“But, you’re doing okay, kiddo? If you want to talk about it-.”

“-Not tonight.” You interrupted. “It’s just a lot but…you’ve probably seen worse.”

Jack looked like he wanted to say more, but he held back. It would’ve led down a farther hole of trauma, which you both knew you could not deal with. Instead, he asked. “You do anything I taught you?”

You grinned. “Yeah. Kicked his knee in and got creative with what I had around me.”

“Your pad, I heard.”

“It was his own fault he dabbled in fuckery!”

“Certainly was.”

“What…happened to him?”

Jack’s face grew sullen. Breathing through his nose, he said. “I got to him first and Robby had to pry me off. Bastard’s lucky he didn’t get a taste of my right foot.”

Damn…he was serious.

“Police took him away; I didn’t even get a slap on the wrist because he assaulted both you and a student doctor.”

You nodded. “Thank you...”

“Don’t mention it.”

You both fell into a tender yet awkward silence. There was so much but also nothing to say. It was actually Jack who tried to end the conversation.

“Well,” he stood. “I don’t wanna keep you from your new friends-.”

“-Would you wanna get breakfast sometime?”

It just fell from your mind and out of your mouth. You were hungrier than you thought and also wanted to spend time with him.

Despite working several shifts with Jack, and knowing him for years, you never saw him so surprised. Still, his face soon relaxed into one of mild glee.

“I’d love to, kiddo. How does tomorrow after my shift sound?”

Your eyes grew. “Really? You wouldn’t want to sleep in or something?”

“There’s nothing else I’d rather do.”

You weren’t going to cry, you had decided. Your stepfather, and essentially everyone else who had comforted you that night, were making it incredibly difficult.

“Do you need a hug?” He asked upon seeing your face; and most likely your attempt at repressing tears.

You shook your head. “I’ll bawl my eyes out again, and I gotta be somewhere after this.”

He hummed. “Wouldn’t want to embarrass you now, would I?”

“Well…” You placed your hand on his shoulder, attempting to still have physical affection without being overly vulnerable.

The awkward act, alongside a beat of silence, caused a fit of giggles to erupt between both of you. You must’ve laughed this hard with him at some point, but you couldn’t remember.

“I have therapy tomorrow at ten-thirty anyway.” He said, recovering.

“How’s it been?” You asked.

“Fine, nothing out of the ordinary.”

You nodded. “I’m really proud of you for going. I don’t think I’ve ever told you that.”

He shifted in his seat but smiled. “Honestly, with what you’d been studying, it helped convince me. It sounds like the bare minimum for everyone if they’re able to go.”

Smiling, you teased. “You’re doing great; you’re raising my standards for men.”

“That a fact?”

You hummed. “If you didn’t start going to therapy, I would’ve married the first military man who asked, even if I only met him three weeks ago.”

“Hell no,” he played along. “eight weeks, I told you that.”

“Would you have proposed to my mom that quickly if you met her before you were deployed?”

“I would’ve married your mother sooner because I loved her.”

“Did you think that while you were dating her?”

“Of course I did.” He leaned forward, saying your name. “There are some people in this world who know in an instant who they want to spend the rest of their life with.”

You pursed your lips, thinking back to Robby, and everyone else you had ever dated in your life. “I don’t think I’m one of them.”

“And that’s okay.”

Sighing, you looked down at your watch and immediately stood with your belongings. “I should go. Hey…thanks for everything.”

Jack got up with you. “Don’t mention it. You got a ride?”

“Yeah, Santos. She’s driving my car.”

“Are you gonna sleep at the house tonight?”

“Uh huh.” You walked out of the breakroom, and he followed. “I’ll pick you up after your shift and we can get breakfast.”

“Are you okay to drive home?”

You turned to face him in the hall as you approached the door to Chairs. “I’ll be fine. If anything bad happens, I’ll call Ellis because you don’t have your phone on you, and she can tell you. Okay?”

Jack sighed. “Just doing my job, kiddo. Have you figured out which shift you want to do?”

That was the question. You’d done a week’s worth of the night shift, and only one day shift. You enjoyed people on both, and had personal history with both of the attendings…

“I think the day mostly.” You said. “I can’t come back in tomorrow, but I will after that. I think I like the vibe more. But, I’d also like to do at least one night shift a month; maybe two.”

Independence, but also not ignoring your stepfather’s existence.

Jack smiled. “I think that sounds reasonable. Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bye, Jack.”

You’d work your way up to ‘dad’, and even the casual ‘I love you’. Still, it was more than apparent both of you were wholeheartedly fine with where you were at. Progress, that was what was being done.

Finally, you made your way out to the front of the hospital, and there was Santos, leaning against a streetlamp. She smiled, approaching you.

“How’s your daddy?”

You snorted. “He’s doing fine. How was your shift?”

She began walking to the parking lot with you beside her. “Not bad. I mean, kinda boring until your roommate and her batshit insane boyfriend came.”

“Glad they could entertain you.”

“I don’t mean it like-.”

“-No, I know.” You eased. “Do you have Mel’s number?”

She took out her phone. “Yeah, why?”

“I had her take pictures of my injuries, and I have to send them to the police.”

Santos glanced up at you. “How’d it go talking with them?”

“Eh.” You shrugged.

She chuckled, showing you her phone with Mel’s number on the screen. You created a new contact in your phone, then texted Mel as you and Santos walked.

“Hey, it’s your fellow member of the ‘Dead Moms and Unknown Dads’ club.”

Just as you typed it, you deleted it. Apparently, you still had the mental power to overthink things.

“Hey it’s,” you typed your name. “Could you please send me the pictures you took so I can give them to the police?”

It was then you decided to send another message. One completely different.

“I still owe you dinner, or lunch if you prefer. If you have any questions about what Kimi said after I blew up at her, please don’t hesitate to ask. I’m okay with talking about it. Just could you not bring it up to anyone else, please?”

You had a feeling she wouldn’t text back that night. Maybe she’d talk about it tomorrow, or maybe she never wanted to hear about it? Still, you’d cross that bridge when you came to it.

“All good?” Santos asked.

You smiled, putting your phone back in your pocket. “Good.”

“If you ever need help with legal shit, I’ve kinda been around the block with it.” She reassured. “But I know you’re probably smart enough to handle it if you want.”

“Thanks.”

The two of you walked in silence, apparently you had parked in Kansas, your car was so far away. To fill the space, Santos said.

“Whitaker likes you.”

You looked over at her, a funny look on your face. You knew what she meant but tried to deflect. “Yeah, I like him too. He got decked in the face so I wouldn’t.”

“No.” She shook her head, chuckling. “You didn’t hear it from me, but I think he wants to ask you out.”

There it was. Even with all the shit that happened to you that day, there were good things. You reconnected with your stepfather, you somehow managed to have the most mature “breakup” with a guy twice your age, his ex-girlfriend took care of you despite knowing about all the shit you had done, and you made new friends for the first time in a while.

Still…it was all so much.

“I don’t think I’m ready to date anyone right now.” You admitted. “I’ve got a lot going on.”

“No, of course.” She said. “I just wanted to give you a heads up, just in case if you weren’t feeling that way towards him, or if you were-.”

“-Trinity,” you stopped her, smiling. “I’m good.”

She nodded. “Right.”

Even with an abrupt ending, there was not a hint of discomfort. After finally finding your car, you thought it would’ve all been over when.

“Hey, doctor Robby.” Santos greeted.

You drew your head up at his name and saw him approaching the car beside yours. This whole time…he had parked beside you and hadn’t even known. He rose his brow as if he had the same thought process as you.

“Hey, how’re you two?” He asked.

She shrugged. “We’re just dying down for the night, you?”

“Same. I have a date with my bed.” He chuckled, then looked right at you. “Are you doing alright? I can only guess how many times you’ve been asked that.”

You smiled. “Several, but I’m doing better now.”

“That’s good. Are you okay to drive?”

Santos jumped in before you could answer. “Nah, I’m driving little miss Starshine.”

“Starshine?” He asked, trying to hold back his amusement.

You hid your face in your hands. “Oh god.”

“How’d you get that from Dr. Santos’ extensive list of nicknames?” He questioned.

Santos took that as her cue. “She had too much caffeine one night shift, and both Whitaker and I were greeted by her.”

“It’s not that funny.” You rolled your eyes.

Robby disagreed. “I for one think it’s hilarious.”

Santos jumped in. “Please say you’re in tomorrow. I was gonna rely on her to be entertaining, but Kiara ordered her to stay home.”

He clicked his tongue. “Sorry to disappoint, but it’s my day off.”

She sighed. “At least tell me you’re gonna do something useful.”

“I was thinking of going to a coffee shop, maybe.”

“Where?” You asked, curiosity bettering you.

Robby pursed his lips. “I heard Big Dog is good. Ever been?”

You tilted your head, managing to hide how perplexed you were. “Yeah, a few times. It’s alright.”

“I might try that one.”

All you could do was smile, not knowing his intentions. It could have been bait for a reconnection, it could have been a way of saying goodbye to a fantasy, or it could have just been him making conversation.

You tossed the keys to Santos. “Let’s go before Target closes.”

She smirked, unlocking the door. “You think I drive slow?”

“Maybe.”

Robby stepped in. “Please don’t get either of yourselves killed.”

“Yes sir, Dr. Robinavitch sir.” Santos snorted, getting into the car. “Come on, Starshine.”

You gave Robby one last smile before ducking into the passenger seat. After buckling up, Santos plugged her phone into the aux chord.

“Don’t play trash.” she said, starting the car and putting it into reverse.

Snickering, you put on your favorite song. As Santos pulled out of the parking spot, you made eye contact with Robby. Not knowing what else to do, you waved to him.

He waved back.

While Santos drove, you couldn’t help but ponder the day. It was one of the worst, there was no doubt about that, and it ended with more questions than answers. Yet, where that would leave you in a deep storm of turmoil, you decided to weather it.

If all of that happened in a day, who’s to say what would happen in a year?

Maybe you’d still be in Pittsburgh, maybe you’d be in a different continent.

Maybe you’d still be single, maybe you’d be married.

Maybe you’d still be roommates with Kimi, maybe you’d never talk to her again.

Maybe you’d still work the day shift, maybe you'd switch back to the night.

The best part?

You didn’t have to know right away.

[caotictimmy]

I was in fear that I was the only one with their brain completely rotted by mouthwashing and swansea appreciation 😭😭 good to know I'm not alone in this

We love Swansea😍😍 but yes guys I’m finally doing his headcanons. I’m sorry it took so long to start making it. I’m still not completely recovered from the side effects from my meds. But I love my man swansea sm. Gonna bit a little bit angsty but mostly happy. Gonna be Just like the rest of my headcanon.

Crushing - Confession

- It’s gonna take a long time for Swansea to like you. I think we all get this. He’s been through a lot in his life.

- Your guys relationship goes through stages before he starts to like you. Like different stages of trusts. But when he fully trusts you. He’s Inlove, like INLOVE with you. GOD I LOVE HIM SM.

- Swansea isn’t gonna be to noticeable he finally figures out he likes you. There will be hints. Subtle hints. But still hints.

- Like curly. He will treat you different. Not that much different. He’d be a bit nicer with you. Nicer with his sarcastic comments. Nicer with his insults. Just not being as harsh on you. He might crack a smile at you.

- Swansea will be protective. Not in a weird alpha male thing. He’s worried about your safety. Let’s say you wanted to help work on the broken vent. He will adamantly say no. He knows how dangerous some of the stuff he works on can be. He’ll let you watch but he doesn’t want you to get hurt. Not even a paper cut. ( doesn’t worry he doesn’t coddle you)

- If you ever do get hurt. If it’s not bad Swansea will help you himself (he’s trying to be romantic give this man a break.). If you accidently got cut put a bandaid or bandage on it. Scolding you for being so ‘stupid’ and getting yourself hurt. (He was really worried, you almost gave that poor man a heart attack)

- He’ll do little things for you. Saving you a seat next to him. Waiting for you to catch up to him. Saving you the last candy bar on the ship (much to Daisuke’s dismay). He doesn’t really mention that he does this stuff. And if you ask him about it he’ll deny and look at you like you’re crazy.

- Swansea is constantly thinking about you. In such a sweet way. Oh this reminds me of them. They would like this. I wonder what their doing right now. He always has you in the back of his mind. He also a romantic but he’s just emotionally stunted. PROVE ME WRONG.

- Swansea is gonna be a bit scared to try again. But you make him wanna try again. You make him feel like he’s in his prime again. So it might take a long time for him to confess.

- I think when he does confess, it would be late at night. You guys would be talking. Laughing the night away. Just having a genuine good time. He’d pause for a moment. Making you confused. You guys lock eyes

- “Y’know you can be a parasite sometimes. Always in my god damn head. You really made an old fool like me fall in love like I was back in my twenties.” He won’t directly ask you to date him but I think you get it

- When you say you wanna date him. He’ll just smirk. Wrapping an arm around you as guys continue your night. (He was absolutely terrified you’d say no.)

Dating

- Another dude he likes hearing you yap. It could be about anything. Be warned he will probably tease you. But he doesn’t do it in a mean way! His sarcasm is just his way of showing you love. But he truly does listen to you talk. Sometimes when you guys talk hell randomly bring up something you talked about like 2 months ago.

- I think his love language for receiving would be quality time and words of affirmation. And I think his giving love language would be quality time and acts of service.

- (receiving) I feel like Swansea likes you around while he’s working. Whether that be talking, listening to music, or just in silence. He likes having you around. I already talked about how much he likes listening to you talk. So that definitely plays a big role. So whether you’re yapping about how Daisuke almost broke his arm trying to get a pack of sugar, or doing your own thing next to him. He just wants you around.

- (receiving) He’s had a rough past. I think we all get that. So I firmly believe he’d love some praise. Whether that you talking about how handsome he is, or complimenting his skill. Swansea will act like he doesn’t care when you do this. But he does. He really really does. He’s not gonna tell you though.

- (giving) Said again. This man loves having you around. He’ll actively invite you to hang out with him while he’s working. Swansea is gonna act like it isn’t a big deal. But he really wants you to show up. So please don’t turn down his offers to spend time with him!!!

- (giving) Swansea will do small things for you. Saving you the last of cereal for breakfast(even after Daisuke begged to have the last of it). Doing your laundry with his, making you some food when he’s cooking. They’re not humongous gestures but he does them frequently. It’s like a second nature to him. Swansea isn’t thinking ‘I’ll wash their clothe cause I wanna be nice”. He just kinda does it. Like an unconscious part of him just makes him do these things.

- This man will always swing his arm around you. Like always. Whether that be walking down the hall together. Wrapping an arm around you during movie night(the crew definitely as movie nights sue me). He always has an arm around you. (GUYS I KNOW THIS IS SIMILAR TO CURLY GIVE ME A BREAK😭🙏)

- Do spa masks with him. He’ll call them stupid but trust me. You will have a lot of fun. It will turn into a gossip night. You can’t tell me this man doesn’t gossip at least a little bit. He doesn’t call it ‘gossip’. But this man is sassy when he’s ’talking shit’. Like Swansea bae… Just call it gossip.

- Swansea defiantly calls you nickname. Don’t get your pitch forks out yet please😔. I think his main nicknames would be toots, sweetheart. And other old timey nicknames.

- Daisuke looks up to you guys. He’s definitely more than once called you guys ‘dad and ___’ (keeping it gender neutral gang).

NSFW - DO NOT READ IF YOUR A MINOR OR UNCOMFORTABLE WITH NSFW (AFAB)

- We know this man is old. I think we ALL get it. So he’s not gonna have that much energy. But what he is gonna have. Experience and knowledge. LOT’S OF EXPERIENCE AND KNOWLEDGE. So your not gonna have to worry if your gonna be satisfied by the end of the night.

- SWANSEA PREP GAME IS ON POOOIIINNNNTTTTTT. He will make sure you are ready! I’ve said before, he does not like seeing you hurt. So I firmly believe he’ll spend a lot of time on prep. If you wanna give him some special thanks go ahead. All he’s really worried about is making it less painful for you.

- I do not believe he’s a selfish lover. No matter what anyone else says. I’ve seen people talking about how he would be selfish during sex. LOUD INCORRECT BUZZARD. Argue with a fucking wall. While he does like getting pleasured. I think he likes a good 50/50

- Cock warming king. Sometimes when he knows no one will bother him. Hell unbuckle his pants and just slide you right on. You guys haven’t been caught so🙏🙏 Try to make sure it stays that way.

- Call you a whole ass phone book ass size of pet names. PUT THE PITCH FORKS AWAY!! Honestly I feel like it just slips out. He’s not fully focusing on what to say. (I’m sorry. No im not sorry. He would not call you baby girl/baby boy during sex,.)

- Swansea prefers having these intimate moments in one of your guys bedroom. He’ll take a risk sometimes if he’s that horny. But he feels it’s more special in one of your guys room. He doesn’t get that thrill of it. (He also prefers the plushness of a bed.)

- Swansea loves holding you after sex. That post nut clarity really hits. He feels so special knowing you’re here with him. Willing to be so intimate with each other. He feels lucky that he has you. That he gets to try again.

- I feel deep in my heart he’s a grunter. I don’t think he’s like a loud one. But you’ll hear a grunt every so often, your gonna have to train your ears to really listen to it

- He talks you through it. ARGUE WITH A DAMN FUCKING WALL HE TALKS YOU THROUGH IT. He gets pleasure from it to, comeing at you that your doing good, that you can keep going, just a little longer. My opinion is better suck my dick.

Authors note: I FINALLY GOT IT OUT. Sorry it took so long but it’s finally out!!!

[intoblonde6ftwbbplayers]

Stupid Interview

no use of y/n bc im sick of it atp || obvs this isn't a real actress||

pairing; Paige Bueckers x famous actress reader

warnings; none that I can think of there might be brain rot but its used jokingly (im chronically online with the humor of a middle schooler)

summary; Josephine Carter does an interview on the tonight show where she reveals her passion for watching upon wbb and how she thinks Paige Bueckers is attractive.

masterlist ; part 2

||

You're currently backstage waiting to come out as Jimmy Fallon is introducing you. You've been acting since you were little, mainly smaller roles when younger but the second you graduated high school and turned 18 you went into it full time. You went to college but opted for online with your busy schedule.

It wasn't overnight but you got good role in a movie over a year ago and since then producers have been knocking down your door asking you to be in their next movie. It's honestly a dream come true being able to do what you love and have people praise you for it.

And 1 year and 3 movies later you are now pretty well known you've been told. Think like Glen Powell and how everyone knows him now but they didn't really before top gun. That's what people are saying happened with you as well. And this is the first interview you've done in months that hasn't been press for a movie and you're excited.

"The talented and beautiful actress Josephine Carter!" He says enthusiastically to the crowd who starts cheering at the sound of your name and even louder once you step out onto the stage.

You hug jimmy and sit down.

"So Josephine you've really been busy this past year and I mean really because you just wrapped filming a movie which makes that your third appearance on our screens this year which is just unbelievable" Jimmy says in awe.

"woah when you put it like that it does sound a little crazy. Im honestly so grateful that I have been able to work so much recently and each project ive done has been so amazing and I really just poured my soul into each role and am really proud of all of it"

"Yeah it's incredible what you've produced for us both on and off screen as you have been seeing giving back to the community a lot as well as getting your degree. I mean wow you're just on fire lately"

"Oh god yeah honestly I've always liked school and im graduating in May and I feel good and Im proud of everything ive achieved right now. Im just ready for what comes next"

"Speaking of what comes next what is award winning actress Josephine Carter going to do this next month? We know you start filming yet another movie in April but what about March? Any plans?"

"Not that I can- Oh! Yes! Actually big plans. Im watching march madness. Anyone who knows me knows that im invested and I have been for a while now so that's my entire month right there" you say laughing as the end

"March Madness that's a little unexpected? Mens or Women's?"

"Women's of course. And I dont know, ive been watching since Sophomore year of high school and right now this year im particularly invested" you say laughing at the way you know your friends have had to listen to you talk about Paige Bueckers and how she deserves to win countless times by now.

"what's peaked your interest this year that makes it so special?" jimmy asked genuinely curious along with the audience who is waiting for your answer.

"Well you've hears of Paige Bueckers. I mean her story and the entire uconn teams story these past 5 years have just been so heartbreaking as well as inspirational and everything they've overcome together and especially her. I just genuinely think that not only the team has the talent and commitment to win but that they all deserve this one that they truly should win and it would just be the perfect storybook ending if they do. Oh god that was such a yap attack im sorry. my friends say I can get pretty passionate when talking about this" you say blushing hard from embarrassment of rambling.

"No that was very interesting and I think we can all tell you aren't just a casual watcher which makes it all the better. Do you plan on going in person? Supporting Uconn?"

"I dont think so. I mean ill be checking tickets but I dont know it might be too late to get tickets but I will be watching every game no matter what"

the interview goes on and you and jimmy have good banter back and forth. You mention Paige a couple of times while talking about UConn of course as well as answering some questions about your upcoming movie as well as how you school life has been especially not that your done soon.

"Alright Josephine last question of the night... Who is your favorite uconn player and why?"

"Oh god" you say putting your hands on your face to cover you blush

"right ill be honest since I doubt they know who I am or that they'll see this but uh... Paige Bueckers and the why, I mean ive seen clips of her and read the articles, she seems like a good person and you can tell its genuine.. but also have you seen how attractive she is?" you say smiling and blushing HARD.

"I mean she's 6'0 with the bluest eyes and she's just so beautiful how is she not everyone favorite?" you say blushing even harder but laughing just as hard at your own bluntness.

"I cant believe I just said that. Cut that out!" you say to jimmy and turning to look at the producers.

"Well Josephine this is live sorry to say but as always it was a pleasure having you as well as learning about your little crush. Josephine Carter everybody!" jimmy says hugging you goodbye before you walk off.

You reach backstage before it hits you that you just admitted to the entire world that you think Paige Bueckers is fine. No big deal right? How much can you guys fans really overlap? Maybe this interview won't do well you think to yourself.

NEXT DAY*

The end clip of the interview of you detailing exactly just how pretty you think Paige Bueckers is has gone viral. Your entire FYP and probably everyone else's shows different clips of you smiling like an idiot while talking about her and you just want to live in the ignorance of thinking that Paige hasn't seen it even though there's no way thats possible at this point 7.5 million views later in just under 20 hours.

You might be fucked but ignorance is bliss and thats how you're choosing to handle this.

then you get an alert on instagram, Kk Arnold is going live. of course you click on it always enjoying watching them when you catch their lives.

You join and its just Kk talking to someone off camera telling them to come sit down since the live started. Paige comes to sit down and your heart drops when you look at the comments.

'PAIGE PAIGE DID YOU SEE THE INTERVIEW'

'Josephine Carter thinks you're fine!'

'PAGIE GO WATCH THE TONIGHT SHOW INTERVIEW'

'Paige you should dm josephine'

'Paige did you see what Josephine Carter said about you??'

Kk and Paige read the comments but not out loud. God could this get any more embracing?

You got a pop up on the screen telling to request to join. You always click no you've never requested before and you weren't gonna start now you thought to yourself.

But as fate would have it your dog wanted attention at the exact wrong moment and moves your hand causing you to click request to join instead of the 'x' in the corner and managed to knock your phone onto the floor making you not notice.

You reach down to grab your phone only to come back and see Paige is blushing HARD at Kk's phone and Kk has the biggest most evil smirk on her face. You wonder what possibly could have caused this but then a second later your face appears on screen next to them on the live.

oh shit.

"Are you the real Josephine Carter?" Kk speaks first

"oh um yeah I am. Sorry about the request I didn't mean to but my dog made my phone slip and stuff." you say laughing at yourself awkwardly

"Oh hey you're totally fine im glad you did actually because P Boogers over here has been going crazy that her favorite actress knows who she is"

You laugh at that "why wouldn't I? you guys are famous"

"We're famous? Girl boo I guess we kinda are but anyway we seen the interview or at least the TikTok clips of it. You into Paige or what?" she says very excitedly with the biggest smile

"Woah there Kk Im sorry about her. But I saw the interview. You really know who I am huh?" Paige says cockily

"alright alright I do but I mean everyone on this live knows who you are and agrees with me on what I said in that stupid interview. And I can sleep happily tonight know thing there's new clips for edits tomorrow" you say the last part half jokingly but you know you'll end up getting them on your fyp tomorrow.

"You're a fan of the edits? good to know" Paige says

"stop acting like I didn't tell the whole world you're fine shyt yesterday"

kk and Paige burst out laughing at this and you cant help but feel proud that you made her laugh.

"Don't worry Josephine your little rant on Paige last night could not compare to this video we all have of her talking about you." Paige at this comment tried to cover her friends mouth in attempt to get her to stop but Kk wasn't having it prying Paiges hand off her to continue.

"yeah she had us go see your new movie 3 months ago and we got back to her apartment and she would not shut up about how beautiful you are and how your acting is so good and everything about you. so trust she's just as obsessed or even more"

"No bro don't listen to her she's lying" Paige tries to defend but its no use as you know people have already clipped it and Paiges smile and bright pink cheeks have you believe Kk over her.

"Mmmm I think I believe Kk. but I am very flattered Paige it's always a pleasure to know someone likes my movies" you say trying to act nonchalant but failing

"okay so boom! like you have to come to one of the tournament games girly pop!"

"I'll look but there's probably no good tickets left. Il'l let you guys know if I decide to go though!" suddenly your dog comes and jumps onto your bed to howl in your face begging for attention.

"is that your dog?" Paige asks

"yeah she just wants some attention right now. I swear she hates it when i'm on my phone." you say laughing slightly and turning the camera to show your dog laying on her back with you scratching her belly.

"Wait you have a husky?!" Kk and Paige ask at the same time

"yeah I do! her name is nova" before they can reply nova gets up and walks to the front door begging to be let out for a walk you know you should have taken her on 20 minutes ago.

"alright guys thank you for having me but I gotta take her on a walk! It was great talking to you and I'll let you know if I go watch. bye everybody!" you say as you click off the live but before you close the app you follow both of them on instagram.

@paigebueckers started following you!

@kamoreaarnold started following you!

paigebueckers sent you a message!

your heart skips a beat. Maybe you'll try a little harder in your search for tickets.

||

thanks for reading lovelies part 2?

request are open lmk thoughts or any ideas in the comments

[nuggetpool-hi]

Guess who watched X-Men origins again

OK SO I got THOUGHTS of this movie but specially Wade's fight style because it's really similar to our current Deadpool's fighting style... so yeah I wanna yap about that hi

WELL FIRST OF wanna talk a lil about Victor, Logan and Wade's different styles... from a mortal's view point I am no expert on this just insane about these movies and I need to write my thoughts or i'll explode

Starting with Victor!! the ultimate kittycat girlypop

I love his kitty self I'm sorry ANYWAY EXAMPLES

OKAY SO VICTOR. Victor's style is obviously very animalistic but also stylized, he makes the fight a show for himself! He likes to hunt and he tries to always give chase or play around a bit before the kill, just like a cat playing with his food!

AND IF you pay attention to the start of the movie, this game he's got with his target isn't initially how he fought, he kinda developed it as the years went by and the eviler he got the more he played with his food. The first few wars he goes to he's fighting like a human soldier, then you can see him slip up some animal jumps and uses his claws more until at the end he's full on predator chasing his prey (just like when he captures Scott, my god I love that scene he's terryfing)

AND A BIG DIFFERENCE BETWEEN HIM AND LOGAN (that I will also talk about later I guess) is that with this play thing Victor has going on it SHOWS that he THINKS about the stragety when fighting, he's aware of his surroundings and his target's strenghs and weaknesses, he's good at coming up with solutions on the spot (see his fight with John, he can predict where he's going to teleport and catch him) and how to give a good chase without losing WHILE LOGAN WELL, at least in this movie he seems very lost when fighting?? he mostly just launches at his target and attacks, if the target runs away he chases, very animalistic but in a feral-based on instincts way... prolly why he coulnt win agaisnt Victor at first, because he was being blinded by his rage while Victor was quite literally playing with him lmao

ANYWAY LOGAN our favorite traumatized babygirl

and boy does he suffer in this one aughh EXAMPLES

Now you must be wondering why did I put the bathroom scene, well I feel like it represents Logan's general situation pretty well! (and its silly let me be), hes confused destroying everything and just keeps making it worse every time he tries to fix it.

The thing about Logan in this movie is that he's honestly just- confused and angry from the moment he killed his father, he runs away over and over again from EVERYTHING and he's constantly being manipulated BY EVERYONE!! Poor man has no idea what to do with himself of who he can actually trust but damn he tries, his enviroment is contantly changing and he's trying his best to adapt but he does it in a messy way.

The way he fights and acts in general is animalistic, yes, but more of the "scared dog attacks" kind of way, he's always acting on his instinct that it's mostly led by anger. When he fights he just throws himself and tries to slash whatever he can, he runs he hides and then when he gets the chance to he attacks again.

He constantly has little to no control of the situtation WHICH IS SPECIALLY SEEN pre-adamantium where he keeps losing to Victor because unlike him- he has no plan, he's being manipulated and kept blind of everything ON PURPOUSE which obviouly puts him in a disadvantage so yeah.

AFTER he gets the adamantium you can see his skills strengen with his knowledge, the more he lears about his situation the more focused he is and his fighting it's cleaner, he still moslty just launches himself head first into fights BUT he's not running away, he's able to evaluate his situation and adapt (See his fight with Gambit, he looks at him when running away and then destroys the stair so Gambit can't run away OR with Deadpool where he decides to gain height as a way to create the space needed to evaluate his enemy?? that one might be a lil bit of a stretch tho)

WADE WILSON THE ULTIMATE CUTIE PRINCESS

let's ignore how dirty they did him ok...

OKAY SO SADLY- The bullet scene is pretty much the only scene where we see him fight and it's honestly not enough to tell how his normal style is BUT I WILL SAY his general style is fancy to look at and scarily effective (which is mostly seen with our current Wade but you can see a bit in origins deadpool) he makes a show for everyone to see, which is also his stragedy to make himself even better at combat! He uses a lot of fancy movements and acrobatics that help him AND takes his enemies off-guard, confusing them as where they should attack or what he's going to hit?? anyway-

Comparison time yippieee THIS IS WHAT THIS POST IS SUPPOSED TO BE ABOUT LMAO

I did not get side tracked idk what you mean.... and now seeing it over and over I'm realizing not that noticeable.... so it's just not that much to talk about oops

LOOK AT THIS WADE, LOOK AT THE MOVEMENTS HE DOES WITH HIS LEGS!! HIS HANDS??? THIS MAN IS SHOWING OFF he's using all kinds of acrobatics and fancy movements while fighting, he attacks with his hands and dodges using mostly his legs, he's using all he has!! and it's making Logan lose BECAUSE LOGAN CAN'T FOCUS!! specially since he's so "target locked will attack", Wade makes it SO HARD for him to focus on a pose long enough to actually stab him also Logan ain't too good at dodging, I'm guessing it could be because he heals? dunno

now what inmediately came to my mind upon rewatch was THIS scene (maybe because I saw it recently who knows)

THE SETTING IS SO SIMILAR!! Wade is using a lot of fancy movements to get up, dodge and attack all way too fast for Logan to process, once again Logan is looking everywhere confused about where to aim bc this silly red guy it's dancing on his face and he's struggling to keep up JUST LIKE IN ORIGINS except well he IS able to get a hit bahah

Dodges like crazy, jumps over Logan (he did in origins too) just moves a lot between every attack

Actually now that I think about it Wade feels a bit less effective in the car, like yes sure he's putting up a good fight but Logan still feels like he's leading it BECAUSE WADE IS MORE EFFECTIVE WHEN HE HAS MORE SPACE!! he likes to be able to move around and do gimnastics while Logan it's a lot better the closer he gets to his target so omg yeah... ALSO LIKE WADE STILL TRIES TO MOVE AROUND he shoves Logan away from him, he gets out of the car choking logan with a seatbelt and gets to the back, he tries to create space because that's where his speciality WHILE LOGAN keeps trying to get closer to have him in his power, which he gets to do since the car isn't allowing Wade to move as freely as he would want to...

AND YOU CAN SEE HIS FANCY MOVEMENTS WITH FRANCIS TOO he's constantly circuling him, dodging and spinning while Francis is just trying to get a hit, Wade keeps his enemies chasing him when he fight THAT'S the way he controls it and gets it wherever he wants aughh

ANYWAY YEAH I think that's it, don't really know how much sense any of this does since I've been writing it on-and off the whole day lmao it's so messy but yeah feel free to add onto it I'd love to see opinions on this wahoo

Might keep talking about stuff I find interesting in the movies bahah this has been funn

[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!💞

[i-starcreamed]

HEAR ME OUT ON A FUNKY LITTLE REQ (for like hcs or something idk but i’m sure whatever you come up with will be SCRUMPTIOUS) B-127 WITH A READER WHO’S BASICALLY HIS FEMALE COUNTERPART — Like it’s giving bestfriends to lovers bc theyre literally both golden retrievers — LMAO I CAN PICTURE THE ‘SHARES ONE BRAINCELL’ MOMENT BETWEEN THOSE TWO

(ive been STRUGGLING so damn bad over b bc WHYD THEY MAKE HIM SO CUTE AND SILLY IN THE MOVIE??)

Drink up, Eat enough, sleep well and take lots of rest Kier!! :)

B-127 X READER

TYSM DOLLY! This request is so silly. Sorry this is short :3

Cybertronian! Fem reader

No warnings just silliness

He’s definitely in love. At first, in love platonically. You have an equal amount of chatter and enthusiasm to match his.

Let's say you met him down in the low levels, you too were a friend of Orion and D. You know when he was all happy to introduce himself and such? You also piped up and were like, "Oh my god I had no idea bots would go this low!" (wince) "How long have you been here?? This place looks scary..Oh! I'm Y/N by the way!"

You two immediately clicked. On the way to your little adventure, both of you were yapping the whole time. Either both annoying Elita or just adding onto each other. Huge smiles on your faces. Orion and D just looked at each other...they knew what this was going to lead up to. To be fair, they were glad you finally found someone to talk to. You spoke to both of them just fine, but now you REALLY spoke.

yapper x yapper <3

now going a bit off-canon, here are some best friend headcanons :3

even as friends, he is very touchy. Like, he doesn't mind hugging you or locking arms or anything.

If he hasn't seen you in a while? He running to you and hugging you soo hard. He’s the type to twirl you around

Gladly shares energon snacks with you

Once he had an alt mode, he’ll want to constantly race you. He’s so excited!!! And you are too!!

His romantic headcanons aren’t much different tbh

You guys are always touching. Holding servos. Touching shoulders, leaning on eachother. SMILING

YAPPATRON X YAPPATRON AGAIN

he likes having his faceplate kissed all over, you’re always attacking his face

PDA fan, he doesn’t care. Nothing too crazy, but he definitely likes showing you off casually. If you’re especially affectionate with him in public, he gets so flustered. Poor guy is a mess

When you two start dating no one really knows. You both act the same as you did as best friends. Maybe slightly more affectionate. Everyone thinks y’all are ADORABLE though

[fishnchip3011]

Okay I have to ask how Shane reacts when he realizes he's friends (or... maybe that he caught feelings for him? *eyes*) with Hunter because I've been laughing to myself about their golden retriever/black cat relationship all day. Love your work, I'm so thrilled I came across your blog!

i'm so glad u like my sillies this makes me so happy ACK!!!! (also heads up b4 u look at the rest of the post..... it's long as hell i'm sorry 😞 my yap switch flipped on...)

i think shane would realize he actually cares about hunter when something's off like. hunter hasn't come by the saloon in several days and shane KNOWS he disappears sometimes doing god knows what (shane thought bubble -> *hes probably off doing nerd shit as usual.........but given his tendency to throw himself into absolute danger with zero self preservation he could be dying in a ditch right now..... shit what do i do. wait why the hell do i care? ...but is anyone else going to check on him? ..... probably not. ugh. okay fine i'll go look for him. but if he's just holing himself up over some shell and worrying people for no reason i'm going to be so pissed off*) then he grumbles the entire way over to hunter's run-down cabin and tries really hard not to think about how he might actually Care about and Be Worried about hunter (feelings ugh amirite.... #emo)

shane makes it to hunter's cabin and sees that the lights r on. he knocks and hears nothing for like 5 seconds until hunter yells from inside that shane can let himself in. first thought: *he usually opens the door with an unnecessarily energetic greeting but he's not doing that now..... okay weird. maybe he just doesn't wanna get up from his desk or something. whatever.* he enters and sees hunter on the ground in the middle of wrapping a Massive Fucking Gash on his leg with gauze (he accidentally re-opened his wounds by exerting his body when its already injured u__u) and there's blood dripping everywhere and shane looks at him like this:

shane freaks out and yells at hunter when he tells him he went out to the skull cavern when he was already injured and that he wasn't coming to the saloon cuz he didn't wanna over-exert his leg but he just HAD to go after learning this specific fossil could be found in the skull cavern!!!!!

since this is the first real big offense shane helps hunter treat his reopened wounds and tells him not to do dumb shit like that again and to just "go fucking see harvey tomorrow jesus christ." hunter sees shane's hands shaking but he doesn't really get why so he keeps it to himself.

stuff like this happens again and i think at a certain point shane gets really angry at hunter bc of the constant lack of self-preservation and getting hurt. and he blows up on hunter like "do you not even think for a SECOND when you throw yourself into this–this shit how cruel it is to other people who worry about you? why the FUCK do you keep doing this???" and hunter gets defensive both cuz he feels attacked and also cuz he's angry shane called his interest 'shit' and he's like. "well you of all people shouldn't be saying that." and that strikes a nerve n shane is about to yell back but he stops balls his fists tight n walks out

this point of conflict btwn them is interesting cuz the reason why shane gets angry at hunter's lack of self-preservation that worries everyone around him isn't just that he's experienced grief with the death of loved ones before (jas's parents) + understands how traumatic it can be, but also cuz he's projecting the frustration he has towards himself onto hunter. he can see similar patterns of perpetuating self-harming habits in hunter like he does with himself

after big blowup fight i think they sit next to each other at the dock on the big pond together staring at the moon reflecting off the water in silence. then hunter breaks it by saying ".....i didn't have anyone.. um." (stares at the ripples forming in the lake) "...there was no one who ever said anything when i.. did things like this.. well, injure myself. i suppose." (shane turns to look at hunter who is Still looking at the water. he is looking at the water and not on shane On Purpose.) "i guessed it never was important enough to dignify with.. anything. so i've just carried on like this. i thought i was bothered by what you said because you were being hypocritical.... but i think i was jealous of you." and shane scoffs at that like "hah. what is there to even be jealous of." and hunter's like: "...........jas." which throws shane off. hes like, "..jas??" then hunter goes: "..and marnie. who worry for you." then shane goes silent at that for a bit.

i think this is where shane's image of hunter as this sort of shallow self-confident buccaneering guy starts to break down... that this guy who he envies for having a passion he's held onto his entire life also experiences some similar form of feeling like he has no self worth. and that hunter, unlike himself, doesn't feel like every time he harms himself he's letting people down because he doesn't believe there are people to let down in the first place. (required context: hunter was an orphan who cycled through many foster homes where he was mostly neglected, or his guardians didn't put much effort into developing a relationship with him b/c they either didn't have the bandwidth to or couldn't understand how to bond with a neurodivergent kid. he mostly put his all into studying his interests over everything else, and when pursuing higher education he largely kept to himself + his studies and only had perfunctory interactions/acquaintanceships/academic relationships with other people. he participated in research and maintained academic/work relationships with colleagues and came to pelican town to further his own personal research)

i don't have this dialogue/scene fully fleshed out or written cuz i am just writing this shit on the go LMAO but here is a TLDR except it's not really a TLDR cuz it's long as hell:

hunter's problem: believes there's no one to actually care about him/"let down" because he is inherently unlovable and thus is incapable of love because he was never able to reciprocate any kind of 'love' in the first place. so he fixated everything on his interest and disregarded 'himself'

shane's problem: doesn't believe he's important enough/has any inherent worth b/c he has no passion or potential (b/c 'its too late and i've squandered my time alive just to amount to nothing) or nothing he thinks he can 'contribute' to the world (WRONG!!!!! ITS LOVE!!!!!!!). feels extreme guilt that he is alive instead of jas's parents (who he believes had 'worth') and feels guilty over the fact that his only reason to keep living is jas. he thinks he's selfish for wanting to die when jas needs him and doesn't think jas deserves to have to deal with/be raised by someone like him

shane concludes that no matter what he does he's going to fail because he's worthless and has nothing to contribute to the world. and vice versa. it's a mutually reinforcing hole that he can't dig himself out of. and he beats himself up for not being 'strong enough to dig himself out' when depression and trauma as a result of grief of the death of loved ones and addictive habits as unhealthy coping mechanisms are things that some people just can't get out of on their own. and that sometimes help is necessary.

they will not talk about all of this in one conversation obviously because they are not efficient or good at talking about their feelings enough 😭 but hey they'll get there..... after Many Conversations over an Extended Period of Time. but when they get there:

shane @ hunter: "you have someone who cares about you and that's me. you are not incapable of love and human connection just because you have never been given the love that everyone deserves"

hunter @ shane: "you don't need to 'contribute' this arbitrary 'something' to the world to be 'worth' something, your inherent capacity for love itself is reason enough for your existence"

who knows.... maybe they'll even kiss.....! woah! after they take 989846463412347 years to hold hands. i actually think shane would be the bigger initiator of romantic gestures (at least @ first) because unlike him hunter has no frame of reference for any kind of love. Especially romance. well it's not like shane is much better tbh. they'll both get better at it!!!!!!!!!! hooray!!!!!!!!!!!

[sillylittlecharacters]

I am obsessed w/ your comic!frin au (& just comic!frin in general. there are no fics for the comic on ao3 and it is killing me), PLEASE ramble at me about it.

Hello!! Thank you!!! I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to see this!!!

Please please please feel free to send me more asks about this!! anyone!! everyone!! this post got really long under the cut but i can keep yapping for days!!

For anyone who hasn't seen my original post, this is an fic that I'm planning to write (in the distant, D I S T A N T future) about Comic Siffrin. They're the Siffrin from the original comics that the concept of In Stars and Time and Start Again: A Prologue was developed from! A proto-frin, if you will. Apparently they're still stuck in the time loops and that makes me vividly sad.

Ma poor fully grown adult baby. they are significantly older than me. Someone save them.

*ahem. * BIG SPOILERS FOR IN STARS AND TIME.

The base concept for this au (which is absolutely subject to Change!! don't trust me with anything) is that Comic!frin is the 'first' Siffrin, or at least the 'first' Siffrin stuck in a timeloop.

And when they hit their breaking point, instead of wishing for 'someone, anyone to help me!!' and turning into an astronomically themed guide for another Siffrin, they wished for 'someone, anyone to take this responsibility, this fate, this life away from me!!'

This had its consequences.

Unlike with Loop, where the differences between ISAT and SASA:AP universes are minor, there are a LOT of differences between this version of Siffrin and the ones we're more familiar with. The biggest one being, of course, that they alone are the Saviour of Vauguarde.

How did that happen?

Well, Comic!frin actually knew the Head Housemaiden personally before the Royal Court attacked, and when the group of villains began to freeze Vauguarde in time she enlisted their help in finding mcguffins around the country. But Euphrasie's travels meant that there was no one to protect the House of Dormont from the Court's attack, and she went in to face the group alone. Vauguarde's greatest warrior, capable of reversing time craft.

But she didn't leave before crafting a few... plan Bs.

In the end, even she wasn't enough to defeat the combined might of the Royal Court. But there was one last hope, one last blessing that the Change God bestowed on their people. Siffrin, the Saviour of Vauguarde. Not just able to reverse time craft, but completely immune. Or... that's what the people believe.

Yeaaaaaaah, the blessing that Comic!frin received wasn't a gift from the Change God: it was Euphrasie's back up plan. A fail safe for the worst case scenario; an experimental manipulation of Siffrin's wishcraft; true, she couldn't replicate her immunity, but what better guarantee of victory than being able to erase your failures?

Than a time loop?

It was still Comic!frin's wish that trapped him in the Loops, that much stayed the same, but it was Comic!Euphrasie who made sure the wish would be interpreted by the Universe as forming a time loop. Which is why, in the comics, she actively 'sends them back' once they've won - Comic!Euphrasie has much more control over the loops than in ISAT. In her defense, she hoped that it wouldn't be necessary to activate in the first place.

But why does she send them back? How does she know so much about wishes in the first place? And how did Comic!Frin and Phrasie meet??

:)

Wait, Royal Court? What happened to the King??

The Royal Court are this au's main villains, and the ones freezing Vauguarde in time. There are five true members of the Royal Court, each ranging in levels of humanity, and their twisted and contorted 'Pawns' that replaced the game's Sadnesses are completely inhuman, despite their shape. They have their... own reasons for their actions.

As for the King? let's just say he isn't a member of the Court. Our tearful tyrant did exist in this universe, but he isn't involved in freezing the country. I wonder why...

It's a fun reversal of the power dynamic of ISAT - instead of one big bad facing off against a group of plucky heroes, there's one player character against a boss rush, Mario Style!! If only there was a multiplayer option...

More about Comic!Frin!!

I mentioned this on some of the replies to the previous post, but the imagery surrounding Comic!Frin is no longer theatre based, but game based! Funny silly worldbuilding thing, but every time the universe gets reset because of a powerful wish like wishing an entire country out of existence, the timeline gets pushed back, and technology and society becomes more advanced. Comic!Frin has access to technology (in theory. on account of the whole apocalypse making xboxes a lil inconvenient) and sees his life as a videogame. As well as being grounded in the language used in InsertDisc5's comics, I just think it's funny that the one Siffrin who isn't a game is obsessed with them. Comic!frin?? More like Gamer!frin.

This is getting really, REAALLLY long, so I'll keep going on a different post. There's still so many concepts to touch on, like what this version of the party are up to, Comic!frin's saviour complex, more about the Royal Court and their motivations, Loop, and if birds still go 'Piou Piou'!

Spoiler alert - they totally do.

If you managed to get to the end of this (if so you're an absolute madlad) please please please feel free to send me more asks or questions or even make your own ideas!!! that would be awesome!!!!

[spirk-fic-recs]

Heya! Maybe someone has asked before, sorry. Do you have any recs for plot heavy longer fics? Preferrably not AU and TOS but AOS is fine too.

Nooooo don't say sorry! No one's asked for this yet but rest assured I made this blog because I love to yap about fanfic, and it's kind of embarrassing if your best friend isn't in the same fandom as you lol. To be honest, as a college student I don't really have much time for long form fics, BUT I have read quite a few, and I really hope that you'll like them. Since you didn't specify if you wanted plot-heavy as in mission level or plot heavy as in deep exploration of relationship dynamics, I just gave you a healthy mix of both:

Undone (TOS, 86245 words) by RowanBaines

During first contact with the highly telepathic Nghians, an invasion begins on their home world. A powerful psychic attack cripples the populace--and Spock. Out of contact with the Enterprise and stranded on a planet at war, Jim must struggle to keep himself and his violent, unpredictable first officer alive.

Star T'Rex (TOS, 48904 words) by AKO, CountryDoctor, cowgirldressage1, PaintedBird2, pamdizzle, TLuminareth

On an emergent recreational planet, a new park has just been built with genetically engineered Terran dinosaurs. All is going well as the park prepares to open when tragedy strikes and one of its workers is killed by a velociraptor. The founder of the park, Cyrano Jones, requests the Enterprise and specifically its Captain and First Officer to come to the park and ensure that it is safe. Also joining them is Ambassador Fox, who is concerned now with the viability of Starfleet's latest investment. When they reach the planet, all of them amazed to discover that Jones has managed to create ACTUAL dinosaurs, but no one is without their doubts.

I will have you (if you let me) (TOS, 41880 words) by ros3bud009

“We are t’hy’la,” Spock repeated, openly watching Kirk for a reaction now. When all he got was dumbfounded silence, no doubt mirroring Spock’s earlier appearance of shock, he clarified, “Soulmates if that is easier to process.” It wasn’t. Captain and First Officer meet for the first time. Spock explains they're t'hy'la. Kirk is determined to make this working relationship work.

This is one of the very first fics that I read for this fandom lol (I got into TOS during my Christmas break so I had a lot of time back then HAHAHA)

Of Tree's & Telepathy (TOS, 51859 words) by StupidCat

“So you're stuck in my head?” “I am not sure terminology wise-” “Don’t play dumb Spock. You know what I mean.” “Yes Captain, I am stuck in your head,” Spock sounded resigned. … Jim and Spock get accidentally bonded, learn a lot about trees, get dragged into a coup, meet a god, and nearly burn down a national park.

Die of Loneliness (TOS, 72430 words) by Kimberius

Bones: “It's hard to believe that a man could die of loneliness." Jim: “Not when you've sat in that room." ~ Dagger of the Mind episode Kirk suffers frightening mood swings in the final months of their 5-year mission, after he is unwittingly re-exposed to Dr. Adams’ neural neutralizer. Gregarious and charming as ever in public, he endures a private world of anxiety and deepening despair when he’s alone. Spock notices. Things come to a head on Deneva, where the crew is being honored as heroes by a grateful population.

Ok that's it for TOS! Here are some of the long-form AOS fics that I have loved:

It's Not An Illusion (AOS, 118714 words) by Borealisblue

The Enterprise comes across a mysterious planet with a series of caves that manifest copies of loved ones. These copies are taken from a person’s mind to allow them to confront and heal the turmoil in their heart. The copies are perfect replicas in every way, including their memories and personalities. But Jim is shocked when a copy of Spock shows up professing love for him and while he had never considered falling in love with his first officer, this copy allows him to explore the possibility. The real Spock would never have to know. The copy’s touch is electric and his body is warm and inviting, there’s just one problem, Jim doesn’t realize, it’s not a copy.

The plot is more them being idiots but it IS a mission fic HAHAHA.

Refractions (Series) (AOS, 58422 words total) by bigmamag

Two separate parallel universes merge with their own as the Enterprise is sent to an unknown planet where a dangerous phenomenon is destroying ships and expanding outward.

The first work in this series is focused on the mission aspect, but the next 3 fics are about building the backstory and context between the Jim's and Spock's of the alternate universes. My personal favorite from this series is story #3- Somewhere Where They Can Forget.

A Second Chance (Sounds Fake) (AOS, WIP, 28364 words) by Bibarian

Here's the thing: Jim might have woken up in the past. He might have also woken in an alien simulation or a telepathic recreation of his past. This might even be a whole other reality. But, with no way to be sure, there's really only one decision to make. As long as the chances aren't zero, Jim has to try to stop the upcoming destruction of Vulcan. What makes this goal that much harder is doing it without looking insane. Or actually going insane as he constantly doubts his reality.

I love this one. It's ongoing and I'm currently subscribed-- it's just really good!

Happy Reading! -M

[kamily-art]

Pjo au

Who is each of the turtles (and usagi) godly parent?

Are the turtles still brothers?

Were they still created (either by draxum or a god who wants to start a war?)

hihi!! thanks so much for the ask! i wanted to do a couple doodles to go along with it, and ended up yapping a LOT more than i meant to.... my bad....

the godly parents aren't totally finalized for all of them but i'll tell you what i have for now.

Leo - he's unironically the one i've had the most trouble with, but i think i'm gonna go with Poseidon; it matches what with the blue and all, and i think it would be cool for him to have water powers. i still need all their mystic weapons to work, but i'm thinking of having the weapons' power sources be from something other than their godly parents.

Donnie - Hephaestus of course; he's been building things since he was a kid. i honestly think he'd be the one to resist the knowledge that their parents are gods the most. he doesn't want his talent to be because of some dad who doesn't even care about him.

Mikey - he was the easiest- Apollo. has to be, with all of his art, skill at cooking, charm, etc. he also possesses the gift of prophecy, but no ability to control it (like rachel dare). it manifests in the form of drawings; when he's drawing the future, he is in a trance and cannot move, speak or look out for himself. this has led to his brothers never letting him go anywhere alone, something he's annoyed about.

Raph - it had to be Ares; however i like to think he doesn't fit in very well because of how much of a softie he is despite being strong, etc. he likes hitting things; preferably punching bags or bad guys. he doesn't like war.

have a doodle of him when the turtles first met Usagi. (the rest of the turtles are hiding behind him btw. they just got their asses beat by said bunny.)

speaking of Usagi, his godly parent is Hermes! this AU is not meant to exchange specific PJO characters with rottmnt/Samurai rabbit, but, similarly to Luke, Usagi does end up possessed by Kronos. However, it is not willing.

Someone does willingly join Kronos, however. I won't tell you who.

as for whether they'll still brothers- not biologically! however, they met as toddlers and ended up sticking together. it was necessary to survive, with all the monsters after them. point is, they're basically adopted brothers- which brings us to your next question!

essentially, they started off as human demigods. however, they were kidnapped when they were babies and mutated into turtles (i always thought it would be interesting if the turtles were humans originally); but as they were still demigods, they were still pursued by monsters. they were with draxum for a few years before escaping when his lab was attacked. god knows how they survived. i headcanon (whats this? a hc of my own AU? yes) that they had another sibling originally but she was killed early on. trauma for the boys.

there are loads of other mutants created by draxum, by the way. Usagi's actually one of them! he too escaped during the attack; however unlike the turtles, he was found by the Camp Half-Blood demigods and taken in. when he and the turtles first met, they both thought the others were monsters.

anyway that's the end of my yap! lmk if you have any other questions and sorry for being so longwinded lmao

-karma

[givekennyabreak]

Overthinking. (Jade Herrera x GN!reader)

Summary: Jade is needy, you're busy - he finds a way to distract himself and give you a break.

Word Count: 1.05K

Rating: E. Sorry guys

Warnings: canon compliant swearing, Jade complains a lot, dom!reader, sub!Jade, handjob (Jade receiving), use of coconut oil as lube (yes), soft make out, dumbification if you squint, post nut cuddles, Jade is soft but reader is softer for him. No spoilers!

Request: "asking (not at all desperately) for something maybe?? kinda spicy with jade HES TAKEN OVER MY BRAIN ISTG"

Jade Herrera is not a person - he's an experience.

That's what you always say, whenever people comment on how you stand the guy the whole day (and nights, too). That being said, you've learned how to counter his attacks and avoid being distracted by him all the time.

When he slides up beside you at the greenhouse, just about to open his mouth to yap away, you shove a heavy sack of veggies for him to take to Tian-Chen down at the diner - you know she'll ask him to wash and peel most of them, and he can't say no to her.

When he sits beside you near the gas station slash bar, you just gotta show him you're mixing some fertilizer and he'll shut up to avoid the smell, just staying near you in absolute silence as you do your stuff.

When he barges into your room late at night, just stuff his mouth with a piece of underwear and he'll behave the whole night, even giving you peace the next day, as he wakes up way too tired to try and pull any shit.

But there are times where he just cannot be shaken - he's like a cat who demands your attention with every fiber of its being, but loathes asking for it. So he does what he does best - talk.

"I swear I tried to talk to him, but he just keeps going 'fuck off!' and storms away to god knows where because, apparently, he's needed somewhere all the time, and it's not like I haven't managed to-"

You sigh, sat in your room, a few hours left till sundown. You're trying to figure out the amount of potato peels you'll need for the next sack of compost, your pencil hovering above the paper, a 53 jotted down - 53 what, again?

"So I took his violin, but then he took it back and threatened me!"

"Jade," You say, noting how he hopped from some situation with Boyd to another situation with Victor. This wide range of random speech meant one thing. "C'me here."

The soft, but slightly stern tone of your voice got the man shutting up immediately. He hesitated for a few seconds, looking around your room - as if he did not know every single detail: from the angle your desk aligned to your bed, to the five pictures you had hanging on the wall.

"Stop stalling." You hiss, and he stumbles your way, cheeks flushed and eyes wide.

"'m here." Jade whispers, looking down at you. It doesn't take him much to break: a single finger pointing to the middle of the bed, and the way you lock your door as soon as he lays down.

His cock is already straining under his jeans, a hard outline on the otherwise unsuspecting fabric.

"D'you have so much in your head that you just cannot be quiet this once?" You ask, slowly crawling up the bed. You can see him visibly shiver, skin flushing as he knows what is about to happen.

"My head is always full. You're the only one who listens." He whispers, and your heart squeezes painfully in your chest, any words that threatened to come out died in your throat.

You breathe in slowly, eyes softening a little.

"Then, let's empty out this pretty little head."

His head thumps back against the mattress as your hands deftly unbutton his pants, tugging them down and off his lower body completely. His underwear isn't tight or sexy or anything of the sort, but a comfortable silk pair that's easy to remove as well.

Now, with his lower body completely naked, you stop right above him - hands on either side of his head, legs straddling his thighs.

"Just let go." You whisper softly, rubbing at the seemingly permanent crease on his forehead. "Let it all out, if just for now."

Jade exhales slowly, placing his hands on your waist. A small smile shows on his lips. "Do your worst."

That's all you need to swoop down, claiming his lips with your own. He groans, fingers trailing under your shirt and settling on the skin of your stomach.

"Slow down," You whisper against his lips, one hand holding your body up, while the other skirted down his navel.

While speaking those words, your own body betrayed your line of thought - you lathered his cock with some coconut oil you got lying around, fingers trailing up his length; he groaned, head tilting back and curls splayed over the pillow as his breathing picked up.

Jade's cock was flushed an angry red, precum pooled on the slit of his tip, slowly dripping down to help your hand glide smoothly.

"If I slow down any more I'll just- stop." He bit back, fingers forming faint bruises on your skin. He looked up at you, eyes glistening with tears. "I don't want to stop."

You almost stilled altogether; he looked so vulnerable, so open - it's as if he had his own hand wrapped around your chest, ready to squeeze at a moment's notice.

"I won't stop." You mutter, leaning down and peppering kisses all over his face. "I promise."

You pumped your hand, lips meeting his over and over again, and he slowly let his thoughts float away - replaced by the torturous pleasure building up at the base of his spine. A myriad of swear words left his mouth as he came all over your hand, reaching up deliriously to kiss you while his thighs trembled.

"That's it. Let it all go." You whisper, nosing at his jaw.

"I'm gon' nap." Jade grumbled, grimacing as you used an old shirt to clean up his mess. As you tossed it in some corner of your room, he pulled you down, arms wrapping tightly around your form. "And you're gonna join me."

You huff out a laugh, wrapping your own armas around his waist. "I've got no choice?"

"None. Just enjoy it." He mumbles, leaving a wet kiss on your temple.

"Sleep well, Jade."

He is an experience, indeed.

Loud, snappy, and sometimes downright crazed - but loving, smart, caring about others so much he ends up hurting himself.

That's Jade - and you wouldn't trade it for the world.

Author's note: Anon, you asked for some spice and my brain just went the explicit route. I hope you don't mind

[mariusrenathyrs-crashout]

A few posts ago you mentioned how you’ve been thinking about Grimmorbek a lot. May I ask about your opinion and personal interpretation of Grimmorbek?

GOD. This is so much fucking longer than I planned for but I love yapping about ship dynamics. Also sorry for the late reply Anon, I hope you see this eventually lol.

My personal opinions: I love them. As a big fan of Frostbek and someone who has seen quite a deal of Grimmorning floating on my dash, to me it's a pretty fascinating trio as they have such good chemistry and work well as duos.

Frostbek works in my mind as Frost has been noted to be much kinder to Torbek who has taken notice of this despite Frost's deadpan demeanor or troubles emoting. Torbek fascinates Frost and I think this can be looked at from many angles as Torbek is not only fascinating for the trauma he endures and secrets he holds but also for his oddly forgiving demeanor and caring nature. Blah blah you guys have heard me make many posts about Frostbek.

And Grimmorning obviously has chemistry as the two have been long, long time friends and they are fascinating as a polar opposite duo. Despite their differences they clearly compliment one another well as yapper vs listener or emotive vs internal or physically and verbally affectionate vs quality time and acts of service. The two basically coparent a child together and the running gag of "I've always wondered about you two" in terms of being a couple.

Grimbek (is that what it's called?) I think even has some grounds as both Goblinoids - I think that sharing a language the others don't is both something deeply connecting but also is very intimate when used - and Gricko has on multiple occasions gone out of his way to comfort Torbek aka sing for him when he's having panic attacks. While a little shit head towards Torbek at times, he's also advocated for Torbek and had shown the most moral guilt over being a cause for Torbek ever being hurt.

I think as a trio, the parts just make sense. Two emotive partners to Frost's introspective and introverted, two emotionally stable and grounding partners for Torbek who's more prone to panic and discomfort, and two calming and slow presences to keep Gricko from flying off the handle and take a pause to rest and relax and breathe. I think the addition of a 3rd to the partnership also adds interesting complexities to the dynamic as someone like Gricko can help Frost and Torbek who both sometimes struggle expressing themselves or communicating and he can mediate on their behalfs. Frost is very close to both Gricko and Torbek so having someone to watch out for the pair who left to their own devices may be more prone to rushing into danger or not taking care of themselves or giving themselves a break. And Torbek is fascinating because I think he brings out an odd fondness the pair don't normally display as they have both been shown to care for and tend to him and I think it brings out a nice - domestic isn't the word but I can't rly think of what other word to say - tenderness maybe to them that they don't normally show in the group due to it being as Gricko said "a bunch of middle aged lads who struggle to talk about their emotions to one another."