#i'm missing some that sadly were deleted but!

[hazelsmirrorball]

Roses | Oscar Piastri

SUMMARY: After Rumors go around that Oscar was a ghost boyfriend he decides to show up for his ex girlfriend most important night FACE CLAIM: Lola Tung pairings: Actress! Reader x Oscar Piastri

via twitter!

yn via insta stories! oscarpiastri via insta stories

posted five minutes ago deleted five minutes ago

yn via instagram

liked by ybffs_instagram, olivia.rodrigo, landonorris and 1,230,340 others

yourusername Life recently ever since I decided to be happy

tagged: ybffs_instagram, davidiancono

view all comments

user101 the shade? mother leaves for six months and comes back in her reputation era. Love that for her.

user10 I feel that lando liking this post means so much more than just a like

user151 Y/n doesn't follow Oscar anymore. Help.

davidiancono TEAM CAM CAMERON

ybffs_instagram girl finally ur back

olivia.rodrigo I missed you so so much.

user590 I'm sorry but this being post not even after an hour of Oscar deleted story makes me go insane.

user191 they are not broken up! Talk to the hand

y/nandoscarupdates via instagram.

liked by by ybffs_instagram,user178 and 1,000 more.

y/nandoscarupdates a close source to the couple informed us that Oscar Piastri and Y/n L/n have called it quits. They've been broken up for around two months now. Sources say that Oscar and Y/n couldn't make time to see each other due to their busy schedules.

view all comments

user10 is the close source y/bff/n? because I think she just e3xposed herself by liking this post

user15 im sorry but didn't y-n go to every single race Oscar had last season? I never once saw Oscar showing up to her things.

user192 I think you guys are siding with Oscar because my girl was always alone in premiers while Oscar always had her by his side.

y/nupdates just posted

liked by user101, user15, oscarpiastri and 178,000 others.

y/nupdates what we are not going to do is hate on this poor girl. I'm sorry but I don't think that updates account is correct. Y/n was noting but supportive in the relationship, I truly believe she went to everything she could. Oscar on the other hand....when did we see him in one of her events? Im sorry but the support wasn't mutual.

view all comments

user13 touch some grass. you are acting as if you were also in the relationship.

user16 Oscar liked? what does this even mean?

user98 what does this add to their lore

yn via instagram

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 1,345, 569 others

yourusername Opening night for Hadestown! Forever grateful of giving Eurydice life.

view all comments

user134 Oscar liking this? guys I need peace

user126 omg! im so so proud of you

user928 our girl is taking broadway by storm

oscarpiastri as they say in theater break a leg

landonorris what is Oscar doing here?

user119 lando wants to start drama

...

Y/n paced back and forth in her dressing room, her nerves taking up her complete body. It was her first show in broadway. She knew they were going to be critics watching her every move. It was different from anything she had ever done before. Yes, she had acted and she did musical theater when she was in highschool but this was something completely different. This wasn’t a school production, this was an actual professional thing that could affect her career. She stopped in front of her dressing room mirror forcing a smile. It was her opening night and sadly none of her close friends were able to show up, different countries or schedules made it hard for them to show up, which she completely understood. But maybe a familiar face in the crowd could ease her nerves. A soft knock on the door stopped her train of thought. She quickly turned her head toward the door watching the assistant manager peak her head through. 

“Hi Y/n! Sorry for interrupting, You have a visitor that wanted to see you before the show started. Since you didn’t specifically put anyone in your visitor list, I wanted to see if it was okay.” She said quickly, knowing her duties she had a lot of things on her plate and the thing she least needed to worry about was about her visitors. Y/n quickly shook her head, not even asking who the “surprise visitor" was to cut their conversation short. She quickly left and a few seconds later a familiar face smiled shyly your way. Your eyes wandered over his body failing on the red flowers he was gripping tightly. 

“Oscar, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in Australia?” She asked furrowing her eyebrows confused as she didn’t want to get closer to him afraid that he was an act of her imagination. 

“I couldn’t miss your special day, Y/n. I know we aren’t together anymore but you were always by my side in my important days. Even my less important ones. I wanted to support you, I know how important this is for you. So I wanted to see you on your first ever broadway show but if you want, I can leave.” Oscar replied while extending the flowers as you pulled him closely into a bone crushing hug.

yn via insta stories! oscarpiastri via insta stories

#f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #formula 1 #formula one #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #formula one fanfiction #formula one x you #formula one x y/n #oscar piastri #Oscar pastry #Oscar pastri x reader #mclaren f1 #op81 #oscar pastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x reader #lola tung #the summer i turned pretty

[makeyoumine69]

Spit In My Face

— PAIRING: Sugar Daddy!Patrick Bateman x Fem!Reader

— SUMMARY: Fashion Week is in full swing in New York City and Patrick Bateman doesn't miss the chance to show you the world of luxury and beauty. So, he invites you to attend the fashion show with him. Through the chain of events that unfold there, you will see a new side of Mr. Bateman that you never knew existed.

— CONTAINS: Angsty romance, smut, toxic behavior, gaslighting, cheating, misogyny, hurt/comfort, seduction, swearing, flirting, sensual kisses & touches, jealousy, implications of self harm & panic attacks, (almost) character death, oral sex (reader receiving), fingering, rough sex, finger sucking, spanking, biting, manhandling, choking, orgasm control, dry humping, nipple play, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, body worship, Daddy kink, Praise kink, pet names, dirty talk, Service!Dom!Patrick Bateman being an asshole (again).

— WORDS: 21k (oops)

— SONG REC: ThxSoMch - Spit In My Face

— A/N: Hey guys! It took me a year to finally finish this and I decided to post all the parts together since most of you probably forgot what happened in the previous ones (I'll delete the old posts). I did some extra editing before posting and I hope you like it and I'm happy to get back to writing and soon I'll be rebooting the Cupcake series as I've already started working on prequels. Love you all!

— LINKS: [MASTERLIST];[SERIES MASTERLIST].

Fashion, grace, money, wealth, these were the words running through your head as you rode in the taxi, and you couldn't believe Patrick had just convinced you to go to the goddamn Dior boutique. Not to mention the upcoming fashion show you were going to together, which was an actual nightmare for you and your nervous system.

“I really can’t understand. Why me?” You asked Bateman, turning in his direction to see him looking through the window, with his headphones on. And of course, he didn’t hear you. 

All you could do was give him a shy tap on the shoulder. You heard the loud beats of rock music as he opened one of his ears and turned to face you. "What?"

His slightly annoyed intonation almost discouraged you from repeating your question. "I'm just wondering why you decided to invite me to this fashion show when you have much better options." 

You watched him frown, and before you continued, you already knew what Patrick was going to say: "Cupcake, I've told you several times. I want to show you the beauty of being rich. I bet you've never seen so many fabulous people in one place."

Sighing a little sadly, you fixed your coat to distract yourself from the burning anger in your chest. "I've had enough of the rich snobs in our company and…I’m not a fan of all these 'luxurious’ things, you know…”

With a small chuckle, Bateman removed his headphones completely, quickly checking his haircut in the window's reflection. 

"Of course you're not. How can you be a fan of things you can't afford?" He stated before trying to hug your shoulders, but when he saw your intense expression, he just gently put his palm on your knee.

"Money is not happiness," you cast a serious look at him, brushing his hand away from your leg. "Can you call yourself a happy man?"

Perplexed, Patrick knitted his eyebrows, as if your question had caught him off guard —you have never seen him so lost before and that was really strange. Fidgeting in his place, Bateman was certainly about to replay something when you heard the raspy taxi driver’s voice:

“We’ve arrived.”

"Thank you!" You responded before quickly getting out of the cab without waiting for Patrick to pay for your ride.

Obviously, you were upset and pissed off because of his endless snobbish dialogues about rich people, money and how much his regular suit cos—tnone of this really interested you, would he ever understand that?

As soon as you were outside, you felt a stiff wind blowing through your hair, ruffling it and making your mischievous locks cover your face. Quickly, you brushed them away and raised your eyes to the beautiful sign that read "Dior" in large letters; so stylish, so plush—just the way he liked it.

"Are you going to stand here forever?" Bateman scolded behind your back, his loud footsteps forcing you to spin around. 

"I'm so amazed, I can't even move," you sarcastically sneered, staring at the window of the boutique. "The aura of richness has just overwhelmed me."

"How witty," Bateman almost applauded you, his lips curling into a cheeky grin as he came closer, his muscular arms wrapped around your waist. "Come on, let's go inside." With a light push on your back, he induced you to move forward, his arms never left your little form. 

When you finally reached the entrance of the store, Patrick gallantly opened the door in front of you and looked at you from above, his eyes glowing with an unfamiliar tenderness.

"Much obliged..." You stammered as he somehow managed to grab your ass, stroking it and squeezing your buttock a little through your coat. Embarrassed, you turned to face him, but Bateman just smiled in his usual smug way. 

"My pleasure." He murmured in your ear before letting you go.

Once inside the boutique, you heard someone greeting Patrick with undisguised excitement:

"Mr. Bateman! It's so nice to see you again!  Welcome to Dior, we are so happy to help you."

'Again, huh?' You chuckled to yourself, turning your gaze to a side and wondering about the number of his visits and how many girls had been here before; Bateman’s face changed almost immediately as if he noticed your reaction.

“Thank you for the warm welcome, Mr. Graham,” you could definitely hear some tense notes in his tone. “You look great as always!”

The guy let out a little giggle; he seemed to enjoy the compliments as much as your yuppie boy. “Not as perfect as you!” he pointed his both index fingers at Patrick, and now was his turn to grin from being praised. “How can I help you?”

“Uh, I need a dress for…” he paused before staring at you, his eyes gliding over your completely relaxed expression. “For my good friend, but she doesn’t really know what she likes,” ‘good friend, with whom he slept almost every day. Nice shot, Bateman.' “Don’t cha, baby?” While saying that, Patrick groped your cheek, pinching it a bit.

Mr. Graham, who was supposed to be a local stylist, gave two of you a suspicious glare, and only then did Patrick understand what he was doing, pulling his hand away as if it had been burned. 

"Well, if the young lady doesn't mind, we can try something to your taste, Mr. Bateman," the stylist confirmed, examining you like a statue. "What do you think?"

"Great idea," Patrick exclaimed, pulling you into his arms to take off your coat. You almost fell into his embrace, whimpering as he 'accidentally' touched your boobs, squeezing them gently. 'Fuck, why should he be so obnoxious?' "I can't wait to see my Cupcake in one of these beautiful dresses." He whispered before leaving a tiny peck on your neck.

"That's very sweet of you, but..." you murmured, looking into his hazel eyes. "I don't think I'll fit into those dresses."

"Don't worry, honey." Bateman winked at you and gave you a quick slap on your butt to nudge you toward Mr. Graham, whose smile widened the longer he watched the two of you together.

“Please, follow me.”

Trying to distract yourself from all the bad thoughts, you just did what you were told and moved along countless hangers with new dresses. The further you got away from Patrick, the more insecure you became, and that strange feeling made your whole body shiver like from a cold shower.

“So, which color do you want to try on first? Maybe something dark?” the man asked you, sliding his hand across the beautiful fabric of some dress nearby. “Dark blue or dark red…Or even black?”

"I really like the black color, it goes with almost everything."

Mr. Graham chuckled amusedly and handed you a black cocktail dress, which of course was very short. Apparently Patrick didn't like long dresses or skirts, you already knew that, but that didn't mean you were happy about it.

“Mm-mh, and I think this one can fit too,” he gave you another dark blue dress before adding. “I still recommend you to have a look at our new collection, maybe you’ll find something interesting.”

“Maybe you’re right,” you sighed and smiled sincerely for the first time of the day. "Those amazing dresses I saw when we just entered are from a new collection?"

“Yes, Miss.”

"I'll check them out. And… thank you, Mr. Graham." Excited, you smiled again, and then you strolled away, a pile of dresses in your hands.

Once you reached the place you had been before, you heard multiple voices—one of them definitely belonged to Patrick while another one seemed to be unknown to you.

"What are you doing here?" You peeked out from behind the hangers to see a beautiful blonde girl, her face literally glowing with enthusiasm. "I'm so glad to see you, it's been a while." You didn't even have to look to know what she did next as the loud pecking sound echoed in your ears as if you had been hit with something hard.

The blonde left a small kiss on Patrick's cheek before he replied. "Good to see you too, Meredith."

“Are you here alone?”

“Mm-mhhm,” Bateman looked around and when he didn’t spot you, he added almost emotionlessly. “Yeah, you can say that.”

An instant pain burned in your chest, causing your hands to cling to the dress you were holding. Breathing heavily, you were about to send everything to hell and just leave, but for some reason, you decided to listen to their conversation, maybe you would learn something else about yourself being nothing but an empty place.

"So, are you going to the fashion show this weekend?" She asked cautiously, as if testing his line.

"Sure," they looked into each other's eyes for a while. "You know, I never miss things like that."

The way she giggled, forced you to close your ears from cringe, but that unpleasant sound kept bouncing in your head.

"Do you have a date or not?"

"Why do you ask?" Bateman retorted in a stern but concerned tone.

"I just... I thought maybe we could go together?" Flirtatiously, she pulled him closer, pretending to fix his coat.

"I'm sorry, but the answer is no." Frowning, he quickly took her hand away.

Ashamed, she stepped back and stalled. "You could just say you already have someone to go with and…"

Patrick scowled in irritation, cutting her off. "I'd still say 'no' even if I didn't…"

"Miss, did you find something you like?" Mr. Graham's sudden voice made you jerk and drop the super expensive dress with a thud.

It felt like all eyes were on you at that moment, and you didn't really know what to do other than quickly pick up the dress and act naturally. “God, I’m so sorry…I can be so clumsy sometimes!” You apologized, trying to ignore Bateman’s intense gaze. 

"Don't worry, Miss… it's not a problem!" The stylist assured you, matching his words with reassuring gestures.

"I'll pay for everything,” Patrick pronounced it so calmly and with absolute confidence, as he moved in your direction. “Have you finished?” 

First, you cast a confused glance at him, and then you looked at Meredith, her mad stare of disbelief almost making you laugh. “I think so,” you murmured, watching him getting closer. “I even got some of the new collection.”

“Ahh, is it so?” he teased, standing face to face with you. “Come on, let Daddy see what you’ve got.”

With that said, Patrick leaned over to your lips, and you let him pull you into a deep kiss, which was pretty surprising—your own behavior almost scared you, as you didn’t even care about people watching you making out. Deftly, he grabbed your waist to lift you up, but your audible protest compelled him to stop.

“Pat-Patrick…” you whispered against his mouth. “P-please, don’t forget where we are…”

“I know, I know,” he snickered softly, hiding his face in the curve of your neck. “I just missed my Cupcake so much.”

With a dull grin on your face, you pulled away from him to look into his dark brown eyes. "Really?" After you asked that, you glanced at the blonde girl behind his back, who was now talking to a middle-aged woman, probably the assistant.

“Time literally stopped for me when you left.” 

'What a beautiful flattery.'

After a while, you changed into the next dress because all the previous options didn't get Bateman's attention, even though you really liked them. You were struggling with a clasp when you heard him whine in anticipation.

“Baby, did you fall asleep in there?”

“Almost ready!” You blurted out before fixing the dress straps on your shoulders.

And then you walked out of the dressing room to the circular runway, and yes, this boutique had a special VIP area with a fucking runway.

"Finally, my favorite style," Patrick flattered, sitting in the leather chair and holding a glass of mineral water with a little lime. "Mm-mm, this dress outlines your tits so perfectly, not gonna lie, I like it."

A bit humiliated, you were constantly fixing the hem of the dress as it was too short for you, especially when Bateman was looking at you so vigilantly, making you feel yourself like a picture in some art gallery.

"Baby, turn around and…" he paused, crossing his long legs and pressing a finger to his lips. "Stop crawling! Square your shoulders and straighten your back!"

You turned around, unable to hide your sadness. "I… I don't feel comfortable in this. It's too short," you glanced at his annoyed face, wondering if you should continue. "I'm almost naked!"

"But that's the point!" Patrick tilted his hand to the side and was silent for quite a while, clearly thinking about something. "You know what, Cupcake?"

“What?”

"I'll be honest, this dress is amazing, but… unfortunately not on you," he scoffed before taking a sip of water. "It's not a problem, honey. Just take it as motivation to be better."

Biting your lip, you'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't try to hide your pain and resentment, but your voice sounded dejected anyway. “Of course… keep pretending that you didn’t expect this…”

Humming to himself, Bateman squinted his eyes and leaned on his knees. “Expected what?”

“That these slutty dresses wouldn't fit me,” you glared at him, your body was yearning to get rid of this dress as quickly as possible. “Goddamn, I have enough of this…I hope you enjoyed this little performance!”

After saying that, you turned around and went back into the dressing room. Trembling with rage, you didn't even care what would come next as the searing flame of injustice overtook your mind. No way would you allow anyone to treat you like that.

"Shit!" You cursed as you attempted to undo the fucking clasp on your back, but it didn't seem to work. 

"If you keep pulling like that, you'll tear it apart for sure," his unexpectedly gruff baritone shot through your back like an arrow. "Let me help you."

"No!" You almost screamed, turning sharply to face him. Your chest rose and fell so abruptly that you thought you would choke on the air.

Sneering, Bateman gently extended a hand as if you were a wild beast he planned to tame. “Cupcake,” he was getting closer, forcing you to walk backwards. “Tell me…what’s wrong?”

"What's wrong?" You kept stepping back until you suddenly bumped into the wall behind you. "Maybe you should ask yourself first?"

"I think you should stop pouting or you will get wrinkles," he tried to be nice to you, but it only made you more upset. "I don't think either one of us wants that to happen, am I right, honey?"

“Stop it, Patrick…”

“Mm-mhh, it’s just Patrick now?” You didn’t even notice that his massive figure was already towering over you, pressing you a little against the wall. “No ‘Daddy’ anymore?”

Possessively, Patrick strived to cup your face, but you flinched away from his touch, coaxing a warning growl to break from his perfectly shaped lips.

 “Can you just leave and let me change?”

“Jesus, (y/n)...you’re acting like a stubborn child!”

Panting, you leaned your hands against his firm chest to push him away a bit. "Do you really think I'm in the mood…after all the rude things you said?"

He chuckled, looking at you from above and giving you a feeling of being so small compared to him, you almost stopped breathing. “Rude things?” laughing again, Bateman trapped you between his arms as he put them from both sides of your head. “I always say what I think, there’s nothing special about it…”

"More likely, you always think only of yourself," your voice wavered, and you found it hard to breathe, as if he was sucking all the oxygen out of the air. "Let's just skip this, if you still want me to go with you..."

“No, I don’t need you to do me a favor.” Patrick shushed you with a finger, pressing it against your lips, leaving you trembling like a leaf. 

“And I don’t need your help!” You tried to break away, but he kept you in one place. 

“Oh, is that so, honey?” he crooned in a sweet tone, rubbing his nose against yours; his seductive aura was almost intoxicating, it was corrupting your mind stronger than anything else in this world. “Honestly, I just wanted to help you undo the clasp but now… now, I want more than that…”

With no delay, Bateman covered your mouth his heated one, wrapping his brawny hands around your quivering frame and spreading your legs with his knee. Suffocated, you didn’t react, feeling his hard bulge brushing against your mound—a muffled moan of sudden pleasure pierced through your bonded lips, sending chills down you spin; your cute reaction didn’t surprise him, but Patrick couldn’t hide his satisfied grin as his hands were already pulling down the straps of your dress. 

And only now, you desperately clawed at his shoulders, weakly pushing him back, not understanding that your attempts to fight him were only putting gasoline on a fire, encouraging him to sprawl you against the wall, pinning your hands against your head.

"P-Patrick!" The way you almost screamed his name made you both tremble with ravenous lust as you looked into each other's eyes, not really knowing if you wanted him to let you go or hold you forever.

Growling quietly, Bateman continued to move along your longing body, forcing you to hook your hip around his loin, so you could grind against his hard groin. “Feeling good, darling?”

'No, not good...no!'

“Yes-s! Mmm-mh…Daddy… ahh!” Oh God, that was the end. 

"Baby," he murmured in your ear, thrusting his firm thighs into yours and shamelessly groping your bottom. "Daddy doesn't like to see his sweet Cupcake upset."

"Maybe...n-next time Daddy will think more before he talks." You stammered from the beat of your heart. 

“Do ya want me to bite this little sharp tongue?” panting, Patrick punctuated his words with rough smacks on your butt, which could be surely heard outside the dressing room. “I’ll teach you how to behave.”

Smoothly, Bateman pulled down the top of your dress, letting your breasts to bounce out from it, and the next second his greedy mouth was already sucking on your taut nipple. 

"Mmm…Gosh." You arched your back as the last vestiges of your self-control seemed to disappear along with your ability to resist this man.

Switching between your engorged peaks, Patrick didn’t stop rubbing against your mound not even for a moment, your throbbing pussy was about to explode at any second. Thirsty, he tugged on your tip with a squelch, enjoying each little whine you made, but he still needed more.

“Turn around,” he urged briefly, licking his lips in hunger as he watched you bent over in front of him. “Oh-fuck, I can smell your sweet arousal… mmm,” snuggling into you, Bateman left a wet hickey on the back of your neck before he started to move down, peppering your exposed skin with hot sloppy kisses. “C’mon, Cupcake, spread your legs for me.”

As if hypnotized, you obeyed and before you even noticed, his long fingers were teasing your sensitive clit trough your so-fucking-wet panties. Clinging to the wall, you were about to moan when you sensed his big palm on your chin, his hot breathing was mercilessly burning the delicate skin of your throat while his rock-hard bulge was still pressed against your ass.

“Aa-aww, Daddy….mhm.” You muffled against your own hand before turning around to give him your most innocent look–he read it almost right away.

“So, you need my help?” bastard! – you almost said it out loud, but Bateman was faster as he slid his thumb into your mouth, and you started to suck it like medicine you couldn’t live without. “Ahh-look at ya… Such a little slutty girl, can’t function without Daddy’s finger inside her dirty mouth…”

Twitching under his massive weight, you could only think of his skilful digits playing with your pussy better than you ever wished for, damn you were already so close but it seemed like Partick's endless craving spurred him on to tear you apart completely.

With no words, Bateman knelt behind your back to pull up the hem of your dress, and soon you had to compress your lips so tightly, as loud nasty sounds were about to erupt from your fiery chest when he finally moved your underwear to the side and his plump lips covered your feverish cunt. 

“Oh-mmmy God,” tensed like a string, you didn’t know if you wanted to cry or to laugh, or all these things together from how his masterful tongue was pushing you over the edge. “Mmm-Patrick-” you suppressed another moan when he bit one of your buttocks before spreading them wide open to push two fingers inside your blushing pussy. “A-aah-Daddy, I’m so close… p-please!”

Patrick only purred something incoherently in response, as he continued to lick your engorged folds and pumping your tight hole with his experienced digits. His persistent ministrations made you totally lose your mind, and now you didn’t understand were you begging him to stop or to NEVER stop. 

When your legs shook in his grip, you heard his raspy snarl: “Not yet, Cupcake…Not yet!”

'And he just stopped, holy hell.'

Your miserable sobbing bounced against the walls of the dressing room as the coil in your lower belly was yearning for its release, it was literally itching so hard you were ready to scratch the wall with your nails if it could help you a bit.

“(Y/N), you can’t even imagine how much I want to leave you just like that,” Bateman hissed, and then you heard the unzipping sound which caused your knees to buckle. "But I want to get all your stupid thoughts about acting like a brat… out of your head!"

Abruptly, Patrick put your legs together and the next second you felt his leaking tip between your legs, brushing against your soaked folds and making your squirm from ecstasy. 

'This man have no barriers, he can reduce me to pieces so easily, like no one else, and I am sure he likes it.'

A small drops of sweat were running down his forehead as he watched his beefy cock slipping back and forth with a sleek sound; your overstimulated pussy was literally on fire.

“P-please…” You whimpered, bending ever lower to give him a better access to your spasming cunt. 

“If you want to cum, you have to move, slut.” Groaning, Bateman stood still with his hands wrapped tightly around your hips. Mesmerised, he watched you grinding on his huge dick as you desperately chased your release. At that moment, your languid, heavy breathing was all that mattered to him.

Shivering erratically, you almost crested your high when Patrick harshly grasped your throat and pressed you against the wall, possessively he began to smack his cock against your clit, each slap he made was taking your breath away.

“Tell me, Cupcake…” he grunted against your neck, brushing his swollen tip along your throbbing nub barely sensible. “Who do you belong to?”

“You…Only y-you...”

Bateman squeezed your neck with blatant dominance and demanded in a low voice, "Uh, not quite convincing…try again."

“Aa-aww! I… I belong to you…Daddy!” You cried out through your pressed palm when he sped up the tempo, slapping your pussy with nasty wet sounds.

With a devilish smirk on his face, Patrick had to hold you still as you cummed so hard, gushing on his dick and fidgeting around the wall. Multiple waves of pleasure were washing over you like a waterfall, leaving you completely exhausted, you didn’t even have any power to moan. 

And soon, you became limp in his powerful arms, allowing him peacefully patting your head as he praised you. “You can be a good girl when you really want to,” Bateman kissed your temple, fixing his pants. “But still, you could just let me help you with this fucking dress.”

“You can help me now…” You replied, hungrily catching the air.

Smugly, Patrick eventually undid the clasp on your dress, not missing the moment to leave a red mark on your shoulder blade as he sucked on your soft skin. “Speaking about dresses. Since my favourite one didn’t fit, you can choose whatever you want…I don’t really care.”

You sighed, smiling ironically to yourself. “Great!”

Bateman didn’t stop smirking even for a second, he was so pleased with himself that he didn’t notice your sarcastic intonation, he just ignored it, as usual. “Come out when you are ready, I’ll wait for you in the hall.”

“What for? I can pay for this myself.”

His cheesy titter unpleasantly cut your ear. “I don't want you to starve, babe,” you cast an angry glance at him, but he only stroked your cheek before adding: “You only need to be an obedient girl, and I'll give you as many gifts as you want.”

“But I didn’t ask...”

A sudden ring of his mobile phone got his attention, so he hushed you with a finger before quickly going out from the dressing room, leaving you alone with your inflaming rage.

Snorting tiredly, you mentally screwed him a million times in a row, changed your clothes and tried not to even think about eavesdropping on his conversation with whoever it was. As you left the dressing room, you heard the echo of his voice from nearby.

“Jesus, Evelyn! I’ve told you already, I can’t take the time off work.”

At that moment, you could swear your legs weren't listening as they led you straight to the source of the sound. With your heart beating, you halted near the dressing room when his voice suddenly fell silent, and the next second the curtain was carelessly pulled aside so that your frightened eyes met his furious ones.

'Oops!'

Annoyed, Patrick stared at you with his hands crossed on his chest. It was too late to run now, so you stood still and heard him saying:

"Are you lost?" With a cocky grin, he picked up his briefcase and stepped closer to you.

"No...I mean, yes. Probably," your cheeks burned from the inside as the strong feeling of embarrassment hit you like a truck. "I was just looking for you and..."

"Aha," he crooned before towering over you, grabbing you possessively by the waist and leaning down to whisper in your ear: "Do you know the proverb 'curiosity killed the cat'?"

"I haven't heard it since I was a kid," you confessed, swallowing hard as you watched him taking the dresses from your hands, the mysterious grin never leaving his face. "Sorry, I really didn't mean to eavesdrop."

“I’m sure you didn’t.” Haughtily, Patrick winked at you, and that was really confusing because his unpredictable mood changes were the most difficult puzzle you had ever known.

“You don’t even want to see which dress I chose?”

"Not really, I'll see it tomorrow anyway," his voice sounded more stern now. "Unless you change your mind about going with me.”

He cast a challenging glance at you, but before you had a chance to reply, Bateman walked past you and gestured for you to follow. Slightly disappointed, you went after him and soon you made it to the hall where all this shit started.

"So, did the young lady find something to her taste?" The stylist asked as soon as he saw you coming. 

"Yep," Patrick let him pick up the dresses and put them on the big table next to the beautiful leather couch on which Bateman kept looking in disgust and you didn't even know why. "(Y/n), c'mon, point with your finger to which dress you like?"

The way he cooed to you was absolutely stunning. Sometimes it seemed like he could read you like an open book, and that only made you feel insecure.

"I think this one." You replied with a shy smile.

"Nice, very nice!" Mr. Graham exclaimed before calling for an assistant to pack your dress. "That will be 2800 dollars, sir."

Satisfied, Bateman hummed to himself and pulled out his wallet. "Do you take credit cards?"

"Of course!"

All the while, you were pretty shocked by the price for just a piece of fabric. Frowning, you didn’t even realize you were saying it out loud. "2800 dollars, for this?"

Everyone, including Patrick, turned to look at you; the stylist was seriously confused and he just mumbled: "Excuse me?"

"Huh, don't worry," Bateman chuckled and handed him his platinum AmEx credit card. "She just can't believe I finally bought her a dress of your brand. Am I right, dear?"

When Patrick glanced at you, you felt a cold breeze run through your body—he must have been really angry. "Mmm, yes! I have been dreaming about this for so long."

Even though you were not an actress, your words sounded more than natural. Both men smiled at each other and proceeded with the payment procedure.

All the way back to his apartment you both remained almost silent. Patrick continued to listen to the rock track he had paused on before going into the store, looking at you from time to time when you didn't see him, his hand fidgeting with the hem of your new dress that was lying on your knees. Yet, you couldn't believe he'd just bought you a dress that cost more than your monthly rent. You hated to owe someone, but now you felt like you did, and it was killing you from the inside...because you didn't ask him to get you that dress, you didn't ask him for anything, and still he was trying to push you into the world of luxury where you would be a stranger forever.

'Bullshit.'

"(Y/n), what's on your mind?" His sudden question caught you off guard, and you almost bit your tongue. Why did he even ask, when it seemed he could read your mind?

Fidgeting in your seat, you turned away from the window and gazed into his brown eyes, now filled with an unrivaled enigma. "Just thinking about how to survive all the challenges you have set for me."

You heard him laugh softly, and before you could continue, he hugged your shoulders and snuggled into your small frame, the heat his body was radiating melted the cold shell you had been building up since the moment he decided to 'help' you in the dressing room.

“Challenges?” Patrick rejoined, nuzzling against your neck as he pulled your collar down a bit. 

“Yes, Patrick,” you were trying to hold yourself as much as you could, not giving him more weaknesses to play around. “You know how much I hate all these fancy things which are made only for rich people.”

Bateman only purred something incoherently against your skin, tickling it a bit. “Cupcake…I think you need to relax.”

“Relax?”

“Yes, baby,” he tugged you closer, his nose was nearly rubbing against yours. 'Goddamn!' “Relax and take it easy.”

"Stop, stop, stop..." you pushed him away a bit, forcing his headphones to slide down his head completely. "You've reminded me almost every day...that I'm not from 'your world', that I'm just a mortal who can't afford to buy fucking clothes that cost a fortune...and now you're telling me to just relax?"

Patrick huffed and rolled his eyes. “(Y/n)...don’t even start this conversation again.”

“You’re such an…”

Despite the fact that the partition in the cab was closed, it seemed as if the taxi driver heard your loud voice, and the next moment he opened it to ask you if everything was all right.

When you said that everything was fine, he started to drive again and you clenched your palms into fists, feeling the embarrassment and anger fighting in your mind.

"You're ashamed of me, aren't you?" You wondered without looking at him. 

The way Bateman exhaled was not a good sign. "When you make such scenes—yes, I am." 

Sighing, you pressed a hand to your forehead. Damn, he was affecting you so badly and you hated yourself for it, for being so weak next to him, so vulnerable...you were literally losing yourself.

His apartment looked perfect as always, so clean, so posh, but there was something strange this time as you walked across the living room and saw a large bouquet of white roses on his kitchen island.

"Mmm, such beautiful flowers!" You approached them to inhale their scent.

"Yeah," he stated from behind, placing your dress on the back of his white couch. "I bought them for you."

Stunned, you broke away from them as if you were pricked. “For me?”

"I'm not going to repeat it," Patrick blurted out, walking into the kitchen to grab a glass and a bottle of super expensive whiskey. "Besides, I don't think it makes any sense now."

'Excellent.' 

Without asking, Bateman set a glass on the bar counter in front of you as you took a seat near it. Still frowning with irritation, he poured some red wine for you, and when you were about to thank him, he just strolled away. The situation was rather unconventional, to say the least, and you didn't really know what to do, maybe just leave?

"Patrick, I think we both need to cool off a bit...right?" you sipped at your wine, waiting for his answer, but he continued to ignore you. "I'm going to finish my drink and probably go home."

"Whatever." Was all he said, standing with his back to your face, clearly thinking about something. 

Upset, you stifled a sad gasp and took the glass before getting up. When you reached his white couch to have a look at your dress for distraction, you suddenly heard his challenging voice:

"You want to know who Evilyn is, don't you?"

Paralyzed, you almost choke on your wine. After coughing a little, you turned to see him standing near the coffee table with his hands in his pockets. This was getting serious.

"I don't understand, why do you ask?"

Patrick chuckled loudly and shook his head in disbelief. "Stop acting like a fool, Cupcake. I know you want this, I can even feel it," his face grimaced a bit dangerously while his eyes were getting darker by the second. "You've wanted it since we left the boutique, that's why you started acting like a bitch."

Trembling with burning rage, you squeezed the glass, almost breaking it. "I'm not in the mood for scenes, you know," you countered, not even noticing that you took a few confident steps toward him. "When I leave, you can bring Evelyn, Courtney, Meredith, whoever… and confront them for as long as you want!"

"Or maybe we can all have some fun together, huh?" he drawled the last words, enjoying the sight of your angry expression. "There's plenty of me to go around."

Scowling, you wanted to spit in his face, or slap him, or both. But instead, you just smiled and that was a little unexpected for him. "You're sick, Patrick. And I feel really sorry for you."

After saying that, you turned away from him to pick up the dress – you wanted to leave this place as soon as possible, so you even forgot about the glass in your hand.

"Of the two of us, you are the one who really needs some grief," his voice hurt you like a slow-acting poison, it was excruciating. Before Bateman returned to the kitchen, he added, "Evelyn is my fiancée, and has been all along. What an unpleasant surprise?"

A loud sound of broken glass echoed through the living room as soon as you heard his last words. It was a real miracle that the wine didn't splash onto the luxurious fabric of his white couch, but you didn't really care at that moment, with your heart beating so crazy in your chest. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath and stood still, not hearing Patrick's footsteps behind you.  

'Damn, that glass must have cost a fortune.'

"Cupcake..."

"I know!" You cut him off, raising your trembling hands in the air. "I'll return the money...just tell me how much it costs?"

'Don't cry. Please, don't cry!' But you did, and when you felt his warm hand wrap around your forearm, you tried to push him away, yelping:

"Give me...give me something to clean the floor!"

"(Y/n), calm down! You're bleeding." 

"What?" you gasped, opening your eyes wide before looking down at your feet to see blood running down your ankle as a sharp piece of glass sank into your soft skin. Only then did you realize you were injured, a sharp pain hitting your brain like a lightning strike. “Oh, God…I thought it was w-wine…” You stammered as that was the end point for your nervous system.

With no more waiting, Bateman carefully took you in his arms to lift you up. Sobbing, you let him carry you into the bathroom and sat on the edge of his beautiful black tub. Gently, he removed your shoes and stretched out your bruised leg to assess the damage.

"Is it that bad?" You asked him in a shaky voice, trying not to look down at the wound. 

"No, but it would be better if you stopped flinching." He insisted, releasing your leg and going to the sink to get antiseptic, tweezers, bandages and cotton pads. 

As Patrick knelt before you, holding a pair of tweezers, time seemed to freeze for you, but then you screamed from the itching pain as he carefully pulled the shard of glass from your ankle.

"Mmmh," you mumbled through your palm when he pressed a cotton pad soaked in antiseptic. "Shit…I am so clumsy and reckless..."

"You are," Bateman murmured as he wrapped a bandage around your leg. Every move he made was very gentle and accurate. "But still, you are mine."

"No, I'm not," you struggled to free yourself from his grip, but his hands held your leg very tightly. "We both know that's not true..."

Shivering, you peered down at him as he remained on his knee beside you. Almost immediately, his hazel eyes locked with yours, mesmerizing as always. "Why is it always so difficult with you?"

“Ask yourself.”

The moment you attempted to get up, you almost fell on the floor, but Patrick caught you in his arms at the last second.

"Patrick, let me go..." you pushed him into his chest to get some distance, but he didn't even move. "I will leave and forget everything that happened between us. Just like you wanted!"

"I never said I wanted to!" he growled, holding you closer so you could almost feel his fast heartbeat. "Why can't you just be a good girl and accept what I give you?"

"Oh, you've already given me enough, believe me!"

Annoyed, Bateman just shook his head before pressing a finger to your lips, silencing you and taking your breath away. 

'No, no, no. Not again'

You swallowed hard as you felt his thumb slide up to your cheek to wipe away your salty tears. 

'Stop.'

"Cupcake."

'His voice, his scent, his brawny body.' 

"Look at me," Patrick whispered sweetly, and you felt yourself going limp in his strong arms, so you obeyed and let him kiss your temple. "You're driving me crazy and I hate it...because I'm so fucking obsessed with you!"

One sharp breath and his lips were on yours, forcing your hands to claw at his jacket, but Bateman only pulled you closer, deepening the kiss as his wet tongue played with yours. Panting against his mouth, you couldn't help but run your fingers through his soft hair, making it look so messy, but Patrick didn't care. Slowly, he lifted you up a bit to set you down on the sink opposite his bathtub, peppering your neck with little pecks.

"Daddy."

Just one simple word could turn this man into a savage beast, you knew it, but you couldn't stop yourself as your inner nature yearned for him and it felt like you were meant for each other, two broken souls finally found each other.

"Cupcake." He kissed your lips briefly before moving down to your cleavage and unbuttoning your shirt, his hot breath tickling your bare skin.

Everything about him was so intoxicating that your clouded mind refused to function at all and now you couldn't hear your inner voice begging you to stop. 

Quivering, you arched your back a little to give him better access, and immediately you heard him growl against your collarbone as he finally undid your shirt. Patrick didn't even bother to remove your bra - he just pulled it down, revealing your taut nipples; he licked his lips at the sight of them and then his greedy mouth was already devouring one of them.

"A-awwww," you mewled, hugging his shoulders as you literally melted under his touch. "Mmm, please!"

"Please what?" He looked at you, twisting your hard peak between his skilled fingers. 

"I..." you hiccupped from the way Bateman spread your legs as he nestled into you with pure possession, groping your hip and licking your neck. "I... don't know... Gosh!"

This was pure madness, what was consuming your mind, with every kiss he made, breaking all your barriers, the more you tried to resist it, the more it hit you back. Panting, you threw your head back and felt your eyes begin to water again as his strong hands caressed your trembling little body. Never in your life had you felt so lost. Never.

"Relax, sweetheart," Patrick mused into your ear as he slid his palm between your legs. And of course you were so shamelessly wet that you could flood his floor. "I got you."

"I can't, a-aah..." You sighed, tears streaming down your cheeks.

"Yes, you can," Bateman planted another sloppy kiss on your neck before grabbing your hand to press it against the hard bulge in his pants. "I couldn't stop thinking..." he paused, drinking in your stifled moans as he gave your clit a few slight rubs. "Do you think about me, Cupcake? I know you do..."

"Mm-mhh," your hands roamed desperately down his broad back, fumbling with the smooth fabric of his suit. "And I...ahh-I know you don't think about me..."

A loud whimper fell from your lips as he shoved two fingers into your dripping pussy, almost causing you to bump your head against the mirror behind, but he prevented it by wrapping his hand around your neck.

"You're mistaken," his low groan echoed against the walls of his bathroom, sending shivers down your spine and coaxing your inner muscles to spasm around his fingers as they mercilessly rammed in and out of your throbbing cunt. "Because you know nothing about me," Patrick curled his fingers to stimulate your most sensitive spot, gritting his teeth as his aching cock was about to explode with ravenous desire. "Now be a sweet girl like you always are and..."

"Owwww!" you screamed in sharp pain as he accidentally pushed on your wound. “It hurts!”

"Fuck, I forgot...damn it!" He cursed and removed his hand from your leg.

Seizing the moment of his confusion, you slipped out of his embrace and nearly ran for the door, and thank God it was open, because when you heard his almost furious groan, your heart skipped a beat:

"Come back!" 

"No, it can't be like this," you leaned against the door, holding out a hand defensively. "Not after what you said..."

Trembling, you watched him breathe heavily through his red nostrils, his wild gaze seeming to burn you alive as his self-control was about to snap. Scared, you weren't sure what to expect from him next, so you decided to leave this place right now, while it was still not too late.

Quickly, you walked into his living room and grabbed the damn dress, trying not to think about the broken glass and spilled wine. To be fair, you thought Patrick was going to chase you or threaten you with punishment, but none of that happened as he stayed in his bathroom. It was suspicious, but you would think about it later. 

As you were about to leave, you walked past the open door to the bathroom and told yourself to just go and not look back. But when you reached the front door, you froze and sobbed - your heart sinking while your mind was waving a red flag.

'Just leave, please!'

Huffing, you turned and walked back to the open door. The scene you saw was not what you expected, it simply broke your heart - Bateman was standing still by the sink, leaning on his hands with his head bowed.

"Patrick."

"You're still here?" He asked without looking at you.

"I'll go with you tomorrow...but I'm not doing it for you," your voice wavered, but you didn't allow yourself to sound weak. "I just wanted to make that clear."

And then you left him alone in his super luxurious apartment on Manhattan's Upper West Side. No matter how hard you tried to hold back your tears, they kept slipping down your cheeks. Even when you were in the cab on your way home, your soul was still aching because it seemed like the wounds he made couldn't be healed.

When the night came, there were only a few windows with lights on, and Patrick's bedroom window was one of them.

Irritated, Bateman lay on his bed while a blonde girl sucked him off, bobbing her head up and down at a fast tempo. There was no denying that she was trying her best to give him as much pleasure as possible, but he felt nothing, literally no emotions – only the dark void inside his mind.

"(Y/n), you're doing everything wrong...not the way I like it!" Patrick grumbled, pulling on the girl's hair.

"Who?" She asked confusedly, looking up at him. "My name is Meredith, in case you forgot, honey."

Bateman just laughed and carelessly pushed her down, forcing her to continue. "Shut your fucking mouth and suck my dick. You stupid whore!"

Meredith was making too many noises which annoyed him so much as he was trying to concentrate on dreaming of you—your beautiful face, your innocent sparkling eyes. Although this girl was very pretty, definitely 'his type', there was not a single trace of you and he thought he would never reach his high.

"Mmhm, Patrick…Maybe you will fuck me already?" 

"Maybe," he sighed, watching her laying on her back with undisguised excitement, but then he frowned in a weird disgust. "No, get on your knees. I can't see your fucking face."

"W-what? What's wrong with you today?Ah!"

Angrily, he slapped her hip and rolled her onto her stomach. Without any preparation, he bottomed out, closing his eyes and thinking about the way you twitched every time he thrust inside you. Speeding up his pounding, Patrick finally felt his orgasm building up inside his body when she suddenly moaned. "Oh, yeah! Daddy, it feels so good!" 

That was not even rage, it was something beyond that. Brutally, he squeezed her neck, almost choking her, and growled near her ear as he leaned down. "Never call me that! Understand?" he yanked her against the bed, still clutching her throat, and only when she was on the verge of asphyxia he released her, fucking her harder and gritting his teeth. "Fucking bitch, you should thank me for not killing you."

Camera flashes never stopped clicking in front of your eyes, you almost thought it was impossible to hide from them. They were literally everywhere, as were the countless supermodels and rich yuppies who looked at them without shame, their hungry eyes ready to eat them alive.

"Hey, are you trying to get lost or what?" 

With a soft gasp, you stopped and turned around to see Patrick's irritated face as you walked through the huge hall, every part of which gave you strong vibes of luxury lifestyle.

"I don't think you'd notice my absence anyway," you replied, walking straight until his arm wrapped around your waist, causing your lungs to spasm from the sudden lack of oxygen. "Patrick?"

"Listen to me," he pulled you closer and leaned down to your ear, whispering in a serious tone. "There are a lot of bad people here who came for more than just fashion."

"Even worse than you?"

He scowled, but continued. "Much worse, believe me."

"Don't pretend you care," you tried to walk away, brushing his hand aside, but he tightened his grip. "Get off me!"

"You're too naive and innocent. I don't want you getting into trouble while you're here with me." Tensed, Bateman stroked your back to calm you down a bit as he noticed the people around starting to stare at you.

"That's very sweet, but I don't need your 'protection'...I'm pretty sure you came here for the same reason as all the other yuppies." 

"I didn't ask for your opinion, okay? Let's get to our seats," he said possessively, easily cradling you in his arms, covering your small frame like a cocoon. "We have the best seats, by the way. Right next to the runaway."

"Amazing," you murmured as he led you through the endless crowds. "Not a single model will escape your gaze."

"That's right."

Frowning, you were about to slip out of his grip when suddenly someone ran into you, stomping painfully on your feet.

"Ouch!" Your loud whimper caused Patrick to turn in your direction, but then he froze as he looked over your shoulder at the blonde girl who was immediately apologizing. 

"Oh God, I'm so sorry..." the familiar voice hit you like a bolt of lightning. "I can be so clumsy," she touched her forehead before locking her lost gaze with Bateman's. "Patrick?"

That was Courtney. There was no doubt it was her, especially when she smiled at him so brightly it could easily outshine the Sun. 

"Hello, Courtney. It's so good to see you!" Patrick crooned gallantly, his arms finally releasing your shivering body. 

But even if a few minutes ago you wanted him to take his hands off you, now you were feeling a bit upset that he actually did.

"How could I miss this?" She asked flirtatiously, completely ignoring your presence. "Where are your seats?"

"Yeah, where are they?" You blurted out abruptly, making them both almost jump. "I just don't want to interrupt your sweet conversation and..."

You almost hissed from the sudden pain as you felt his firm hand on your ass, pinching your buttocks. His face didn't change, though, as he continued to grin haughtily, his eyes never ceasing to roam over Courtney's pretty body. With slight irritation, Bateman approached your neck and whispered in your ear how to get to your seats, then nibbled briefly on your earlobe as a sign of his displeasure, but you didn't pay any attention.

"Thank you, Daddy." You uttered the last word in the most disgustingly sweet way you could and strolled away without looking back. No matter how much you wanted to, you just couldn't.

Patrick wasn't lying—the seats were really so close to the runway that you could probably see every little detail on the models' clothes.

After about fifteen minutes, it was getting dark, which meant that the show was about to start. You fidgeted in your seat, trying to find a comfortable position, but it just didn't work, your butt was still sore from Bateman's pinch.

As soon as you remembered him, you heard his voice as he moved across the seats to reach his place. Patrick grinned at you smugly as he sat down next to you, crossing one leg over the other and fixing his hair.

"You must be very pleased with yourself, Cupcake?" He asked mockingly.

You scowled and pretended not to understand what he was saying as the music turned up really loud: "I can't hear you."

Patrick just chuckled softly, put a hand on the back of your seat and moved closer. "I said you look so beautiful today."

'God, what a jerk.' 

"Can't say the same about you."

"Uh, such an angry little kitten," Bateman laughed, looking at you from under his beautiful lashes. "I don't think I'll survive this."

"You really think I care?"

And then the show started, unfortunately not allowing you to finish what you were about to say. As expected, the models looked gorgeous and the clothes they were wearing were absolutely amazing—you had to admit that. Although you tried your best not to notice the way Patrick was staring at the girls on the runway, you had to claw at your skin when one of them winked at him without any shame.

"This is the grace I've been telling you about," he bowed closer to you to make sure you heard what he was saying. "The perfect example of feminine beauty."

You smiled ironically and replied without looking at him: "The real beauty begins when the boys come out."

Your sudden statement elicited a muffled groan from his chest, but Bateman simply nodded and turned away from you. From that moment on, he was almost silent, and it was a little strange, but as the male models appeared on the runway, you stopped analyzing and just enjoyed the handsome men walking back and forth in front of you. Everything was fine until one of the models found your eyes in the crowd and smiled at you. And of course Patrick wouldn't miss it.

"Do you like him?"

"W-who?" You stammered, feeling his warm hand on your knee.

"The model who just walked by," he murmured, stroking your exposed skin under the hem of your dress, sensing the way you tensed under his touch. "Maybe you should go talk to him after the show."

Shit, you couldn't believe he meant it or... you just didn't want to believe it?

"I'm not like you, Patrick," you chastised, feeling so damned angry as his words cut painfully through your heart. "You sometimes forget that not everyone is like that..."

"Like what?" Bateman scoffed with a raised eyebrow.

"You know what I mean." You added with a teasing smile and turned away from him, but he immediately grabbed your face, forcing you to squeal from the unexpectedness. 

"No, I don't," he scoffed, pushing on your jaw. "C'mon, Cupcake, tell me."

The surrounding darkness came in handy in this situation, not to mention the fact that almost everyone was focused on watching the show, so Bateman felt pretty confident knowing that no one would notice your little fight here.

"Get off!" You hissed, wrapping both your hands around his wrist in an attempt to pry it away.

"Awww, look at those little hands," he pulled you closer, so you could feel his hot breath on your trembling lips. "You are so small and yet so brave. It fascinates me, I won't lie."

You froze for a second as his words caught you off guard. Blinking several times, you didn't even notice that his large palm was now gently stroking your chin, moving up to your cheek and ending this little intimate moment by pressing lightly on your half-opened lips.

Actually, that was the worst thing he could do at that moment, because his illusory softness and tenderness hurts like hell. It was like a sweet candy with a sharp blade inside.

Just as you realized how close your faces were, you tried to pull away, but Patrick's grip was too tight. Fixing you in place by your chin, he captured your mouth with his, hungrily relishing your taste, your shiver, your muffled gasp against his lips. Bateman tested your limits so masterfully that every little move he made was as precise as his side profile. Slowly he wrapped one hand around your neck while another was already resting on your waist, the kiss you shared was something more than just physical contact, and you let yourself sink into the flow of emotions, closing your eyes and letting him kiss deeper. You almost moaned, but the surrounding music of the show drowned out any obscene sounds that tried to escape your swollen lips.

His strong, warm tongue danced along yours, not even giving you a chance to take the lead, so you just opened your mouth wider and let your noses brush together, forcing your hearts to beat in a crazy rhythm.

God, this man was the darkest curse... the most delightful blessing.

After a few seconds, the people around started applauding so loudly that you had to open your eyes just as the lights came on. The strange delusion that was like a white veil behind your vision began to fade, and only then did you and Patrick realize that you were both staring at each other, your mouths still pressed together.

A second, two seconds.

It seemed as if you were both waiting to see who would break away first, and as soon as you heard someone coughing behind your back, you pulled away from Patrick's strong arms, but you knew that you only managed to break free because he let you.

"Patrick! I thought I wouldn't see you here!" A familiar female voice echoed from above and you didn't even bother to turn around to see another bimbo Bateman was hanging out with.

Shit, what if she saw what you were doing?

At first you thought Patrick would pretend he didn't know you or something, but instead Bateman smiled smugly and put his hand on the back of your chair.

Annoyed, but still as majestic as a lion, he looked up at the blonde and said quickly: "Hi, Meredith."

Her face turned into a sad grimace, though she pretended that Bateman's indifference didn't upset her. Obviously, Meredith was outraged and needed someone to take her anger out on. 

With a haughty grin, she scoffed and almost stepped on your foot. "I don't understand, how can a man like you go out with someone like... her?"

Damn, that was such an obvious insult that it didn't even trigger a single emotion, you just gave her a deadly stare when you finally met her little eyes and you could swear that you saw a trace of fear in them.

"I asked myself the same question," you muttered suddenly, getting up from your seat and looking at Patrick, whose perfect eyebrows now frowned, especially when he understood what you were you doing—he squeezed the back of the chair until his knuckles turned white. "Have a nice evening." 

With those words, you quickly walked away, and you were so damn glad that Bateman decided not to follow you, because with every step you took, your eyes got more and more watery. 

"How did she even get here? Ugly people like that should stay at home to avoid traumatizing anyone." Meredith hissed as she watched your little figure moving away from them. "Who is she?" 

Patrick chuckled, then did his classic move of parrying the question with his natural charm. "Oh, you're so mean," he muttered as he watched the blonde take your seat next to him. Playfully, Bateman pinched her nose and they both started to giggle, no matter how disgusted he felt himself right now, he wouldn't admit that your sudden leaving made him sad. "Such an angry little bitch."

You couldn't remember how you found your way to the ladies' room, but as soon as you stepped up to the sink and looked in the mirror, you scowled and clenched your fists from the sharp pain in your chest. 

"I... I hate you so much!" You hissed in a trembling voice, not really knowing who you were addressing, yourself or Patrick, who was probably already taking the blonde bimbo to his place.

His womanizer nature was not a secret, so why did it hurt so fucking much? 

Depressed by your weakness towards this man, you wanted to smash the mirror to stop seeing this sad face covered with tears, but you heard someone coming, so you just froze in place with your trembling hands in the air. A model walked past you and accidentally bumped your shoulder.

"Oh! I'm so sorry!" She squealed and opened the fauster to wash her hands.

Even though you understood that she didn't do it on purpose, it made you so mad that you almost ran out of the bathroom, loudly slamming the door behind you.

The moment you realized that you couldn't remember how to get out of here made all your insides cramp like a spring, and you thought you were just going to fall to the floor from a sudden fear of being lost. 'Fuck, not now, not now!'

Quivering, you looked around, searching for... Patrick? But instead of him, you could only see an endless number of beautiful models strolling here and there. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath to calm yourself, but when that didn't help, your legs seemed to give way, and you slipped against the wall until you rested on the floor. This panic attack was nothing compared to the ones you had before, your heart pounding painfully against your chest as if trying to burst through it. Things got worse when you felt the lack of oxygen as you literally suffocated with panic and your body burned from the inside out.

The group of models stood by and noticed your small, shivering form, rocking back and forth with your hands wrapped around your head. 

"Hey! Are you okay?" One of them approached you and crouched down beside you, trying to help you up, but you refused.

"Don't touch her, Lizzy! Maybe she's on drugs. Let's go already!"

"No, wait... she clearly needs help," the models looked at each other, one of them trying to pat your shoulder to calm you down, while her friend tapped her foot annoyingly. "Are you in pain? Did someone hurt you?"

"N-no," you finally mumbled, opening your eyes to see that not only two, but many of these girls were already gathered around you. "I— I'm fine, I'm sorry... I'm just..." 

Lost.

Jesus, that was so embarrassing that the words just stuck in your throat like a lump, and now you felt like a little girl who got lost in the big mall when she decided to run away from her parents. 

"What's going on here?" That voice made you almost faint. "Get away!"

A bit roughly, Bateman pulled the model away from you and leaned down to your shivering form.

"HEY! We were just trying to help!"

"Go away! All of you!" He turned and barked at all the girls watching the scene. "Get the hell out of here, there is nothing to look at!"

Your head was spinning, at first you couldn't even believe it was him, hiding you from everyone with his broad, tall figure, as if he was trying to… protect you?

"Cupcake? Cupcake, look at me," his worried cooing made you submit, making you want to believe that he was really concerned about you. Gently, he cupped your face and stroked your slightly disheveled hair. "What happened?"

At first, you didn't say anything — you were paralyzed, mesmerized by his brown eyes, which were gliding desperately up and down your body, checking every little part of it. 

"Who did this to you?"

'You did.'

But he would never know.

"You came," you replied briefly. "Why?" 

Patrick frowned at your answer and let out a tired sigh. "I've been looking for you since you left, because this place is huge, and I didn't want you to get into trouble, but," he paused and brushed your tears away concisely. "But it looks like I'm too late. God, you're so reckless," he shook his head and stood up.

As soon as Patrick did that, something clicked in your head, and you didn't even notice that you were already on your feet as you snuggled up to him and buried yourself in his arms with a deadly grip.

"Please, don't go!" You begged in a trembling voice, hugging him tighter. "Don't leave me!"

Shocked, Bateman didn't know how to react, his arms dropped motionlessly, but then he carefully placed them on your back, drawing invisible lines along your spine. 

"I have to get our coats. You came here in your coat, did you forget?"

Blinking several times as you looked into his eyes, you replied softly: "Yeah… I did."

Patrick couldn't help but smile adorably. "Wait for me here, (y/n). I'll lead you outside, you'll feel better there." He explained and distanced himself from you. "Don't go anywhere! Got it?"

You nodded, and only then did he walk away. Without even looking back, he disappeared into the crowd.

Bateman was right, once you left the building your condition improved, and you could finally breathe in the fresh air, filling your lungs with the oxygen they so desperately needed. A cool wind blew into your face, making you shiver, but it was nothing compared to the emotions you were experiencing right now — the fact that Patrick had come for you, that he was looking for you, left you with no choice but to stifle a loud scream that you wanted so bad to let out.

Bateman remained silent, standing a short distance behind you, puffing on his cigar and watching the smoke rise from it.

"Has this ever happened to you before?" His question came out of nowhere.

You shrugged, but didn't turn around. "Yeah... it happens sometimes, especially in crowded places."

Bateman didn't say anything, but you could feel the tension between the two of you. Without a rush, he moved closer to you, watching you hug yourself — the difference in your sizes made him gulp, but he didn't dare touch you. Not yet.

"Why didn't you tell me then?" He whispered above your ear before smoking his cigar.

"Because it doesn't matter."

"It does."

"No!" You blurted out and turned round to face him. "It… doesn't."

The way he looked at you was enough to make you hold your breath and take a small step back, but the next moment you were already trapped in his sturdy arms, the sharp smell of snuff filling the air around you as he blew off several rings of smoke.

"You're not going anywhere now." His voice lowered, and you closed your eyes from the astonishing sensation of being caught in his strong hands, feeling his hot breath on your face. 

"Patrick," you gasped and hugged him back, surprising him for a second. "Thank you for... for everything."

A loud cacophony of laughter and rumbling got your attention and you looked over his shoulder to see Meredith and her friends coming towards you. She seemed to spot you even faster than you spotted her, and now her eyes were bloodshot red.

"Can you," you stammered, feeling ashamed. "Can you kiss me?"

What the hell was going on inside your head?

Anyway, you didn't have time to reflect on this, because Patrick wasn't the type of person who needs to be asked twice. The moment his soft lips met yours, the ground under your feet seemed to disappear, so he had to hold you with both hands, not caring that his expensive cigar fell down. Even if you would blame yourself for that, all you could think about now was his strong hands sliding along your small form, outlining your curves as you let him do it, while he used his wet tongue to make you go limp in his embrace.

Sneakily, Patrick admired your beautiful face with his half-open eyes, probably not even realizing how much you meant to him, how deep you were rooted in his soul. But did he even have a soul in the first place?

When you broke the kiss, you didn't see Meredith or her friends anymore. Bateman noticed you were looking for something, so he turned to look at the direction of your gaze.

"Cupcake?" He was confused when he didn't see anyone. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Uh, yeah! I just thought I saw a familiar face," you lied, trying to act natural. "I... I should probably go home."

Patrick gave you a suspicious glance, still holding you in his arms. "Actually, I don't want to leave you alone after what happened."

"What do you mean?" you asked, a little disappointed. "I said I'm fine."

"Shhh," he pressed a finger to your lips, and you felt the smooth, cold leather of his glove. "I know you like to be bratty, but now isn't a good time. You really scared me."

Sighing, you dropped your head and covered his hand with both of yours. "I'm sorry, I... I didn't want you to see me like that."

To be honest, you didn't want anyone to see you like this because you hated looking weak in front of people. Especially in front of people like him, because it would automatically give him another trump card to play around with.

"Let me take you home." Bateman mumbled briefly, fixing your hair and then rubbing your neck to relax you.

"Aren't you afraid you'll have a heart attack coming to my place? It's not like your apartment in Manhattan."

He chuckled and pinched your cheek, leaving you confused and offended.

"Of course it's not," Patrick grinned and poked you in the nose. "I don't have any expectations."

You frowned and tried to push him back, but he only pressed you closer, nuzzling your neck and leaving a small hickey on it for which you were not ready — your muffled whimper made him sneer even louder.

"That's a pretty exhaustive answer," he didn't even allow you to say anything in return as he kissed you again, but this time much more passionately. "I'll get us a cab."

This man was like a hurricane that tossed everything around and no matter how many walls you built — he would break them down, one after the other, because nature couldn't be stopped. It seemed that you were completely disarmed against your own nature, because it was calling for him, it was pushing you into his possession, and you were already so tired of fighting these feelings.

There was something special about New York at night, when millions of lights were shining like diamonds, reflecting on the water of the Hudson River and taking your breath away with the feeling of being so small in such a huge city, where the numerous soaring skyscrapers were almost touching the sky.

Tiredly, you closed your eyes, sighed, and leaned on the armrest of the car door, watching the scenery change behind the window. Patrick listened to the music, as he always did, his hands stroking your knee from time to time, but you could hardly feel it, since you were completely overwhelmed by emotions, feelings and thoughts. It was hard to believe that even after all that had happened, you still let him take you home, knowing damn well that he wouldn't just stay in the cab when it stopped at your place. 

Just as you entered your apartment and turned on the lights, you heard his slightly nervous chuckle and little comment.

“Mmm, it's pretty clean here.”

His words almost made you choke. “Did you really think that my place would look like a dump just because I don't live in Manhattan?”

“I didn't mean that.” Bateman murmured behind you, following you carefully down the hall. “Where can I put my coat?”

“Why do you ask? I don't remember inviting you here,” You took off your coat and put it on the rack next to him. “Aren't you afraid your coat will stink  of poverty?”

Patrick couldn't help but chuckle in a husky voice. “You're funny, Cupcake.”

'And why did I trust this man at all? What was so special about him?'

You didn't say anything, only a thin smile ran over your tired face as you turned around and saw him putting his coat over yours. After that, you continued to walk to your small kitchen, and as soon as you reached the table next to the window, your eyes began to search for something.

“Did you lose something?” He asked, leaning against the wall and hiding his hands in his pockets.

“N-no,” you stammered, as if he had caught you doing something bad. God, he was embarrassing you in your own apartment! “Just … It's been a while since I've had guests.”

Patrick hummed something incoherently and crossed his arms over his broad chest, then moved lazily to the kitchen counter when something caught his eye while you were busy gathering all the stuff on the kitchen table — including some books and various papers from work.

With undisguised interest, Bateman picked up the medicine to take a closer look at its name. “Don't you know these things can cause addiction?”

“What?” You turned to see him examining your sedatives.

“How long have you been taking them?” He asked again, his perfect eyebrows knitted together now.

You sighed tiredly and walked over to him, holding out your hand. “Not too long. Now give it to me, please.”

“I can bring you much better medication than this, since it obviously doesn't work,” he stated in a stern voice, without looking at you. “Because the panic attacks are still kicking your pretty ass.”

His words made your jaw clench, but you didn't even try to snatch the medication from him, instead you just let out a soft groan of annoyance, crossed your arms and rolled your eyes.

“That's very kind of you, but I have to decline your offer.” You replied, watching him shake his head in irritation. “Besides, you can only get those pills with a doctor's prescription.”

Patrick just shrugged and put the pills back on the kitchen counter.

“That's not a problem,” he quickly straightened his red tie before stepping closer to you. “I have one of the best therapists in the city.”

“Uh-huh, and the pharmacy you go to is probably one of the best, too?”

He grinned. “Sure, I usually get my meds from the one on Broadway.”

“Good for you.”

You started to saunter away from him, but his hands caught you faster than you could react. The next thing you knew, Bateman was holding you tightly against his tall, broad frame, looking down at you with obvious concern.

“Cupcake,” he murmured in a sweet voice, tracing a finger along your cheek. “I just want to help.”

Damn, this man only had to touch you a little bit and you were already lost in him. 

“Patrick, you don't have to. I—” You didn't have a chance to finish your sentence because your lips were sealed by his. 

Completely defenseless and vulnerable — that was how you felt right now, and it seemed as if he could feel it as the kiss grew deeper and more intense with each passing moment. Cautiously, you rested your hands on his shoulders before sliding them down to the lapels of his suit, fumbling with the soft material and feeling the ground disappearing beneath your feet.

'It's already too much.'

Only when you were both breathless did Patrick decide to break the kiss, but his arms were still wrapped around your waist, as if he was afraid you would disappear like a mirage. 

“You were involved in all this because of me," he paused and leaned down to you again, letting your noses rub against each other. This little physical contact made your heart flutter. “And you really made me worry.”

Bateman said it so quickly, as if he wasn't even thinking properly at that moment. Embarrassed, you shrugged a bit in his arms. No matter how hard you tried to believe this man, all you could think about now was whether you were trapped in his other manipulative, mind games.

“I’ll be fine, I promise,” you put a hand on his chest, feeling his heart beating fast under your fingertips and the next second you pulled your hand away as if you got burned. “Anyway, it’s late already and you probably have some more interesting stuff to do.”

His soft chuckling was annoying but pleasant to hear. “You’re not quite hospitable, aren’t you?”

Eventually, he let you go and stepped aside, unbuttoning his jacket — that scene caused your pulse to race. 

“What are you doing?” “What does it look like?”

You crossed your arms and sighed. “Patrick, I really appreciate your help and… the show was really cool, but I doubt I would ever go back to that place again.” 'Damn it, did I actually say that?'

After Bateman removed his jacket, he carefully put it on the back of one of the kitchen chairs and tucked his sleeves. 

“You’re welcome,” he beamed with a cocky smile. “I thought you would offer me some tea, coffee or something?”

“I doubt I have anything good to your taste,” slowly, you turned away from him, as an unpleasant feeling of shame struck you right through your chest. “Mmm, I can only offer you mineral water but it’s not Apollinaris.”

“Oh, dear,” he crooned and suddenly hugged you from behind. “I didn’t expect you to have Apollinaris. Honestly.”

Gasping barely audibly, you covered his arms on your waist with your own arms and cocked your head to meet his brown eyes and for God’s sake, why did he always look so tempting, so captivating, so… magnetizing?

With a sharp breath, you managed to avoid another kiss he planned to pull you into, and it coaxed a low growl of disappointment to erupt from his half-opened lips which were so intended to collapse with yours. 

“Patrick,” you gulped when he nuzzled against your neck, leaving small wet marks along your sensitive skin. “Please, stop. Let me just bring you some water and I want to relax a bit, after… after everything that happened.”

It was kinda unexpected that Bateman decided to let you go as easy as that without even trying to overpower you like he always does.

“And what do you do to relax?"

“Hot bath.” You responded without looking at him. Annoyed, you stumbled past him to grab the meds he was inspecting a few minutes ago, and then you opened the fridge to take out the bottle of mineral water. As soon as you started to pour the water into the most beautiful glass you had, you noticed his persistent stare, which made you almost spill the water onto the kitchen counter. “What?”

“These pills are no good for you, (y/n),” his anxious tone was very unnatural, you didn’t even remember him sounding like this ever before. “Stop being stubborn.”

With a small thud, you put the glass on the table next to him and replied a bit aggressively: "I don't think they're worse than coke."

At first, Bateman just gritted his teeth and clenched his hands into fists, but then he took a quick sip of the mineral water, trying as hard as he could to play cool.

“Thanks.” Was all he said and that was actually not the reaction you have expected.

There was an awkward silence hanging in the air for some seconds and none of you wanted to continue this conversation, but once you tried to move his hand (that was wrapped around your forearm), his low voice engulfed you like a hot steam.

“Cupcake, I just want to make sure you won’t do anything bad.” “W-what do you mean?” You frowned in confusion and glanced at his hand before you raised your eyes to his perfect face. “Patrick, I suffer from panic attacks… not the things you're thinking of.”

“Then, go take a bath and I’ll leave after that.”

“But I’m not a child,” the more you were trying to resist him, the more your body was yearning for his touch, his large palm on your back was enough to make you forget how to breathe. “You don't owe me anything, this is my problem and I’ll handle this, just like I was doing it before.”

“To be fair, your behavior only shows how immature you are,” he crooned and traced a long, sensible line along your spine. “But, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt since you’re overwhelmed.”

At some point, you found yourself tired from trying to convince him to leave you alone, so you just nodded and quickly took your sedative before heading to the bathroom under his attentive gaze. After all, even if you even attempted to make him go away you would fail because compared to him you were so small and weak — Patrick had power over you in all ways, and he knew that. 

You were trapped in your own flat, what nonsense.

In a few minutes, you were sitting in the bath and letting the warm water bring you some relief, just like it always did. Affected by sedatives, you didn’t even remember whether you closed the bathroom door or not, but being honest, you didn’t really care, because even if Patrick came here he wouldn’t see anything new. 

The bitter aftertaste of what happened made you feel like shit, and you really didn't know how to find a way out from it. As if it was not enough for you to be dependent on Patrick (you owe him a lot of money), now you gave him more weaknesses that he could potentially use against you. 

'Excellent!'

Hugging your knees, you burst in tears — salty tears that were falling into the water, leaving small circles on it. Before now, you didn’t even realize how devastated you were. You closed your eyes for a second and you drifted off almost instantly, and with each passing moment, your body was submerging into the water more and more.

Meanwhile, Bateman was sitting on the little couch in your living room, which he suddenly found pretty cozy, though he checked if everything was clean enough before he dared to take a seat. Did he really think that people outside Manhattan used to live in dirty, trashy apartments? Well, maybe he did, since he didn’t even remember when was the last time he was in such places.

Ever since you left, Patrick had been fighting the temptation to go through your things to find something interesting, which he would of course use for his own interests. But instead, he picked up one of your books from the coffee table, and as he did so, a small piece of paper fell out. Squinting suspiciously, Bateman leaned down to grab it, only to almost crumple it when he saw your handwriting —  the paper was completely covered with your notes, and they were all the same phrase — "If I want to be loved as I am, I have to be willing to love others as they are." Patrick couldn't count how many times you had written that, but each line he read evoked something strange in him — the unraveling feeling that urged him to rip the paper, to crumple it. Is it compassion that he was so afraid of?

Closing his eyes for a moment, Bateman took a deep breath and put the paper back in the book, no matter how much he wanted to destroy it or forget what he had just read. After that, he checked his Rolex and noticed that it had been quite a while since you had left. Slowly, he got up from the couch and went to the bathroom. His 'sixth sense' had never failed him before, so he decided to rely on it and check on you.

Patrick didn’t knock once he noticed that the door was not closed, he just stepped in, looking for you.

“Cupcake, are you—”

A chilling shock swept over him when he saw only the top of your head above the water. Without a second thought, he ran across the bathroom and knelt down beside the tub to pull you out of the water, and the moment he did, you began to cough, clinging to his arms and desperately gasping for air.

“Pat-Patrick,” you were shaking so badly, so he had to hold you in one place, pressing you against his solid chest. “I don’t know how that happened… I… I didn’t want this I—” “Shh, (y/n),” Bateman cooed at you in order to calm you down, but he wasn't any less scared than you. “It’s okay, I’m here.”

Trembling, you looked up at him — your eyes so red from tears, your heart beating like a broken alarm-clock. “I think I ruined your suit… I’m so sorry!”

Appalled, you tried to break free but Patrick didn’t let you move, his strong arms were holding you like tight ropes. Damn, he was so angry — he could sense his blood boiling inside his veins, forcing his jaw to clench in a silent growl. He was so fucking mad at himself. 

How could he let this happen? 

As this question ran through his bewildered mind, he froze in fear. He didn't know if he was talking about letting you nearly drown in your own bathtub or letting you take roots on his broken soul. Maybe that was the reason you two had bonded, two broken souls seeking for something that would stop their pain, something that would bring them freedom from a burdened life. But how could he help you when every day he was fighting his dark side, the side you didn't know about yet? The side he wished you would never meet.

Never.

"God... I'm so stupid." You cried out, interrupting his train of thought and bringing him back to reality. 

"Shh," Bateman husked, cupping your face. "Stop talking!" He sighed and looked into your blurry eyes, breathing so heavily that it was almost painful. "Just don't say anything right now."

Maybe it was the adrenaline, or maybe the sedative had a side effect on you, but as soon as he tried to pull you out of the tub completely, your hand slipped down his chest to his groin — your sneaky fingers instantly playing with the buckle of his belt, causing a shaky groan to escape his lips. Dazed, you moved your hand lower to feel the outline of his thick cock getting harder under your touch, but as you were about to unzip his pants, his firm hand stopped you, confusing your cloudy mind and inducing you to raise your eyes to meet his. He could swear no one had ever looked at him like that — so innocently, yet so sinfully. 

"Cupcake, you don't want this," Patrick murmured, removing your hand. "Trust me."

"I do want this!" You replied in a trembling voice, pouting like a child.

"You're so fucking lost right now, you just don't understand," he manhandled you out of the tub and you almost punched him in his beautiful face, but Bateman paid no attention to your attempt to hit him. "Towels, where are they?"

Huffing, he lifted you up, and only then did you calm down, wrapping your hands and legs around him as securely as you could, like you were afraid of falling off the roof of the skyscraper. 

After you pointed at the bathroom counter, Bateman carefully moved towards it to take some big, white towel and wrap it around you — he was drying you off so gently and attentively, it almost made you cry again. 

Emotions were overtaking you.

Patrick didn't even say a word when he was done, he just got another dry towel and swaddled you in it like in a cocoon before carrying you out of the bathroom bridal style. Somehow, he managed to find the way to your bedroom, but once he saw your bed, he scowled and remarked: “Jesus, this bed is so small.”

“I love my bed.” You murmured in reply, hugging his neck and pressing yourself closer against his warm body.

Bateman couldn't help but chuckle in amusement, giving you a brief forehead kiss and sitting you down on the bed. As soon as you lost physical contact with him, you leaned on your elbows, watching him turn around and walk away.

“Patrick! Please, don’t go!” 

Your words echoed inside his head like the most sacred plea, they made him stop and looked in your direction. “I need to remove my clothes since they’re pretty damp,” he checked himself, with a visible disgust on his face. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Be a good girl, and just wait for me here, okay?”

“Fine.” You mumbled and took the plushy bunny which was resting on your bed next to you.

This scene made him chuckle before he left your bedroom. Now you were completely alone with your thoughts, they didn't wait a second to start eating you from the inside again. With your eyes closed, you lay on your back and began to count.

One, two, three…

What if he lied saying that he would return? Gosh, you wanted him to leave the moment you came here, so why were you getting so upset thinking about him leaving you alone just as you asked him for?

Four, five, six…

The inner voice kept reminding you how many times Patrick has hurt you, how many times he made you cry, how many times you felt like a toy in his hands. You gritted your teeth, pressing your hands against your head to stop thinking.

Seven, eight, nine…

How many times have you promised yourself that you would break out from this circle of lies, pain and suffering? 

“Stop it!” You whimpered, shutting your eyes as firm as you could until the tears started to form.

Ten.

“Stop what?” His voice—it was like a lifeline, like a light in the end of the tunnel, it was everything you needed here and now.

The first thing you saw when you opened your eyes was his almost naked form, namely his toned tiddies and his mouth watering V-line, not to mention his perfect abs and the small trail of hair below his navel.

“For one second I thought you would just leave.” You looked into his hazel eyes, which were partly covered by his messy, brown hair.

“In wet clothes?” He giggled and stepped closer to your bed. It was so hard to ignore the bulge in his tight white underwear, but you tried your best not to stare at it. “Feeling better?"

“Yes, I think y-yes,” you swallowed hard when Bateman sat on the edge of your small bed and drew an invisible line across your ankle. “Can I… ask you for something?”

“You can try.” His voice got lower, sending shivers down your spine.

Panting, you uncovered yourself, putting the towel aside and letting him admire the view of your beautiful body, a pleasure he gladly took, his thirsty eyes roaming all over your curves, especially your full breasts and your inviting neck.

“What do you want, Cupcake?” His hand slides up to your hip, teasing the sensitive skin and making you gasp from need. “Tell me.”

“I need you,” you bit your lower lip, frowning from how embarrassed you were. “I n-need you more than ever.”

With no rush, Bateman bent down to your belly to press a brief kiss which elicited a soft moan to fall from your shaky throat. “Show me where you need me.”

You were about to lost it at any second, as the mind-blowing passion was crashing over you like a fucking tsunami, and you didn’t even know if you would survive this. 

Could that be the moment of no return for both of you?

Stifling a moan, you took his big palm and guided between your opened legs—the sound of his fingers sliding along your oozed folds made you arched your back and you thought your heart would break out from your chest. Your heavy breathes filled up the room, and once you felt his hot lips on your mound, you nearly squeaked, creasing the sheets beneath you.

Patrick was enjoying every second of this moment, savoring the taste of your skin, reveling in all your little salacious noises when he encircled his arms around your legs and swiped his tongue over your throbbing clit.

That was the last drop of your resistance and you couldn't control it anymore, throwing your head back and mewling sensually: “Mmhm, Daddy…! You make me f-feel so good.”

“Are you sure you want this?” His sudden question pierced through your head like an electric pulse.

Gulping, you got up a bit to look down at him, his cheeks, neck and shoulders were already flushed, his hair was disheveled and his eyes were as dark as night.

“Yes,” you responded shortly, feeling a tight knot forming inside your lower abdomen just from being so close to his face. “Taste me, Daddy, please… I want to get lost… in you.”

“I see,” he said, hovering over you for a moment to grab the plushy bunny, then handing it to you with a mischievous grin. "Little girls always keep their favorite toys close?”

As soon as you held the bunny, Bateman got back to his previous position, fondling your hips here and there, then he kissed your inner thigh and put your legs together before bending them and pressing against your chest.

“Stay like that.”

After saying that, he brushed away his wavy locks, spit on your pussy and made several, barely sensible, strokes along your bundle of nerves, his sturdy arms were holding your legs to fixate you in one place as his ministrations were making it hard for you to stay still.

“Awww, P-Patrick,” you keened and squeezed the plush toy in your hand, feeling so dirty yet so high from the way his wet tongue was painting various ornaments on your taut lower lips. “I’m gonna faint…”

“Mmm,” he moaned against your feverish little bud before he took it inside his mouth, sucking it so deliciously that your eyes rolled back into your head, your inner walls were already spasming. “You’re my sweet little Cupcake.”

“Yes! Yes, please!”

Slurping at your soaked cunt, Bateman let you rest your legs on his shoulders and pull on his brown hair as you wanted to bring him even closer, moving your hips towards his face. God, you were such a wet moaning mess and when he shoved his long fingers inside of your dripping slit, you lost connection with reality and ascended to the apex of ecstasy.

His fingers were moving inside and outside of you like a clock-work, so smoothly and fast, since he knew your body so perfectly, it was quite simple for him to find your spongy G - spot. Once he started to stimulate it, your toes began to curve and your whole body was jolting as if you were hit by the eclectic shock.

The moment of your orgasm was as astonishing and relieving as a sip of water in the arid desert. But even after you cummed, Patrick didn’t stop eating you out, fingering you harder, so your juices were gashing around your sweaty bodies, the sheets beneath you were already wet and you didn’t know how you would live tomorrow when he leaves you.

“Mmmmh, I’mma cum again, D-Daddy!” You whimpered, squirming around the bed and pressing the plushy bunny against your face as you were on the verge of tears – overstimulation hitting pretty hard.

Bateman only growled in response and stuffed your soaked pussy with another finger, rhythmically swirling his hot tongue around your throbbing tip while his sneaky hand traced up along your shivering body to grope one of your breasts and pinch your engorged nipple.

“Ahhh—GOSH…! Pat...” Your voice cracked as you cummed so hard all around his face that your wetness was literally running down his chin. But he didn’t care, because the only thing that mattered for him was bringing you as much pleasure as he could.

Even when he was panting heavily against your abused cunt, and he almost couldn't feel his fingers anymore, he continued to lap at your cleft. By that moment your legs were looped around his head and you couldn’t stop twitching even for a second, with each lick he sent millions of tingles to your lower belly.

“Daddy, it’s t-too much… I can’t take it any longer.” You felt so goddamn sensitive, and your body was like jelly at this point.

“C’mon, babydoll,” he groaned in a raspy voice after he pulled on your clit with a nasty squeal. “You can give Daddy another one, can't you baby? For me, please?"

This time Patrick buried his tongue as deep inside your womb as he could, licking you from the inside out. He repeated the motion, making you climax countless times in a row, until your little frame couldn't bear it anymore. Soon, you drifted off with a smile of joy on your face, holding the plushy bunny close to your chest. Long time ago that toy was your only friend, but now it seemed like you have become a toy yourself. But unlike the plush bunny, it was obvious that you weren't the only toy for your owner.

Why did it hurt so good to be alive?

You heard a faint voice calling you and asking for help, but no matter how hard you tried to follow it and find it—all you could see was darkness before your eyes. Scared, you moved along the dark alley, surrounded by shadows, shivering from the abnormal cold, and for a second you even thought you were already dead. But when the voice called you again, you finally realized that it was your inner voice, but it sounded so sad, even compared to your darkest days.

"How did you end up like this, (y/n)?" Your own reflection spoke to you, each word cutting through your heart like a dagger. "You're so pathetic and weak, what would Mom and Dad say if they knew about your 'successful' life in New York?"

Frowning, you closed your hands around your ears to stop this madness, but the more you tried to ignore it, the louder the voice became in your head.

"Look what you've done to yourself! Do you really think he cares about you?" 

"Leave me alone!" You yelled at your shadow copy and ran down the alley, but there seemed to be no escape.

"Wake the fuck up! Bateman is just using you for his own needs, and you let him treat you like a fucking toy. Being in debt to him is not an excuse!" You could hear it even with your ears closed and there was nowhere to hide.

"SHUT UP!" You sped up, the cold air hitting your face mercilessly, but you didn't care. "Get out of my head!"

God, it was so fucking absurd to argue with yourself.

Perplexed and scared, you suddenly realized that the faster you were running the louder your inner voice was getting, bringing you a sharp headache as if a million needles cut into your brain at once. It hurt really bad.

“Patrick! Patrick, where are you?” You cried out as the darkness was clouding around you with each passing second. “Please, I need you…” A single tear slid down your warm cheek when you felt your lungs burning from the lack of oxygen as though you were drowning. “Pat-Patrick…”

Slowly closing your eyes, you let the void consume you, which actually brought you some relief, because now you were free from pain and sorrow, reveling in the sweet space of non-existence.

A loud gasp bounced against the walls of your small bedroom, signaling of your eventual awakening. Panting, you sat on the bed only to see Bateman’s sleepy form next to you—he was sleeping like a baby, laying on his back and sniffling from time to time. Shocked, you were trying your best to regain your composure and steady your heavy breathing, not even noticing that you were drenched in sweat. 

Quietly, you slipped out from under the covers to find yourself completely naked, so the next thing you did was find something to put on. Subsequently, you rushed inside your small bathroom and saw Bateman’s clothes drying off on the battery—the memories of the recent events flashed across your mind like a slow-motion movie. First, you were taking a bath—which was still full of cold water—then you nearly drowned but Patrick came in time and literally saved you. The next flashbacks made you lean on the sink and hold back your breath—his eager mouth on your cunt, forcing you to lose your mind and cum again and again until you eventually drifted off. 

Jesus Christ.

Embarrassed, you quickly opened the water and washed your face several times until you cooled down a bit. After you regain your composure, you fasten your terry robe and head to the kitchen as you were so starved that you even had a stomach ache. 

New York was already awake, and the sun was high above the horizon, shining so brightly in the windows that you had to close your blinds and thank God it was Sunday and you didn't have to go to the office because your head was spinning due the aftereffect of your sedative pills. Speaking of them—once you saw the jar with pills on the kitchen counter you threw it into the rubbish without any second thought, yet you didn’t want Bateman to know that he had an influence on your decision. When you closed the door to the kitchen, you accidentally slammed it harder than you should have, and it cracked so loudly that it sounded like a bundle of dishes broke at the same time.

"Damn it!" You cursed to yourself, pressing a palm to your face, certain that the noise would wake Bateman up.

Panicking a bit, you retreated to your bedroom and as soon as you stepped in you saw the man of your dreams stretching out and yawning so adorable, that for a moment you just froze in your place, not capable of taking your eyes off from Bateman’s disheveled hair and his broad chest.

With a low growl, Patrick pulled the blanket away and finally noticed you. "Woah, Cupcake, was that you?" The man chuckled, casually flexing his muscles as he looked at the mirror next to the door where you were standing. "I thought something had exploded outside."

Abashed, you quickly adjusted your robe from his piercing gaze. "Sorry, I can be really..."

"Clumsy?" Smiling broadly, Bateman leaned back against the headboard and crossed his arms. 

"Yes, clumsy," you tugged with your fingers, briefly glancing down—damn, he seemed to be the only person who could embarrass you so easily. "Well...do you want anything?"

"Hmmm, let me think," Patrick hummed before he thoughtfully pressed a finger to his plump lips. "I probably have something on my mind," Bateman gave you a mischievous grin when he saw your curious look and smoothed his golden brown hair. "How about a morning blowjob?" Your instant reaction was a mixture of anger and embarrassment, which made the man's face look even more smug. "Relax! I'm joking." 

Of course he wasn't joking—you knew it and couldn't stop yourself from rolling your eyes and crossing your arms over your chest. "I'd pretend I didn't hear that," you said, finally looking away from his sturdy body. "How about breakfast?"

"That sounds really good."

Shocked, you took a moment to think about the possible options you could cook for him since you didn’t really expect him to give you a positive answer. “I can offset you with a scrambled egg and some fresh orange juice.”

With a satisfied grin, the man slowly got up from your modest bed and stretched his muscles again; he was definitely making it on purpose. “Oh, that’s nice,” he almost groaned when he cocked his head to one side then to another. “I can’t say the same about your bed, Cupcake… you should change the mattress if you want to keep walking with a straight back.”

And though Patrick was lamenting, you could say he said it almost affectionately—as if he really cared about you, yet you brushed this conclusion off as fast as your heart was pounding right now when the man got closer to you; his tall, massive frame towered over you like a mountain.

“I also would like to have a shower, if…there’s such an option,” Bateman smirked and briefly traced a finger along your cheek, coaxing you to close your eyes for a second and revel in the soft sensation of his touch. “Did you sleep well?”

A sudden question that fell from his lips like a suffocated gasp, a tender stroke on your shoulder and you were already melting as Patrick knew what he was doing, every touch, every glance of his brown hypnotic eyes was deliberate and smooth, leaving you no chance but to surrender to his demand.

“Yes, I slept like a baby, though I can hardly remember the things that happened before I blacked out,” you lied with an embarrassed smile. “You can have a shower and use whatever soaps and towels you’ll see.” Thee more you talked the more his lips curled, especially when you allowed him to bring you closer into his embrace. “But don’t expect anything extraordinary.”

“I won’t, I promise,”  the man chuckled and playfully pinched your ass. “Sleeping beauty.”

With that, Patrick walked past you, leaving you alone for a moment, giving you a chance to pull yourself together. And when you seemed to relax, a thought of his clothes that had been left in the bathroom popped up in your mind. ‘Oh God, I forgot!’

Nervously, you rushed after Patrick into your bathroom to see that the door was already closed, implying that he was inside and probably naked, though you couldn’t hear the sound of flowing water. Embarrassed, you coughed quietly and knocked several times.

“Yeah?” Bateman’s muffled voice echoed through the door. 

“Patrick, I…” a short pause turned into a breathless gasp. “If you’re not already in the shower, may I come in?”

After a moment, the door in front of you opened and you saw Patrick wrapped in a white towel. “Something wrong?”

“No,” you giggled nervously and sneaked inside the bathroom to quickly grab his clothes. “I just wanted to iron your…suit and stuff, while you’re in the shower…” Quickly, you hovered his garments over your arm and walked past him, hoping he wouldn’t ask any questions, despite his surprised expression. “I’m so sorry for dumping your clothes yesterday.”

With these words, you deftly avoid his grasp as you knew he’d definitely try to make you embarrassed even more. “(Y/n)!”

“Take a shower. I’ll make you breakfast as I promised.” 

This time, the man didn’t try to catch you or follow you, thankfully. So, you could safely make it to your living room where you set an ironing board and put his shirt first to iron. Wrapped in thoughts, you didn’t even notice how carefully you were ironing his clothes, you couldn’t even remember doing the same with your stuff but maybe you were just scared of ruining it since everything he wore was utterly expensive. ‘This suit probably costs like my monthly rent.’ Sighing, you put the shirt aside when you heard the water flowing sound and your mind instantly gave you an image of Patrick’s naked body, enveloped in steam and slightly flush from the heat. ‘Damn, I should stop or I'm gonna ruin something.’ When it was time to iron his tie, you ran your finger along the smooth red fabric, draped in beautiful intricate patterns—you couldn't deny that you had a thing for his ties, for all of them—you smiled to yourself before bringing it to your lips, you could still feel his cologne on it. This tantalizing scent was driving you crazy, it fit him so perfectly as if it was made specially for him, but even if that was true, you wouldn’t be surprised at all, regarding how rich this man was. The moment you finished ironing his pants, you seemed to hear his voice coming from the bathroom. ‘Perfect timing.’

Slightly tensed, you stopped next to the door. “Patrick? Did you call me?” When he didn’t reply, you became even more stirred, so without really caring about seeing him naked, you opened the door and stepped in. “Patrick?” Since your bathroom was much smaller than his, you bumped into his massive frame, squealing in surprise. “Oh God, sorry!”

“Oh, Cupcake,” he wrapped his hands around your shoulders before carefully cupping your face. “I hope you didn’t break your nose against my firm chest?”

Frowning, you gave him a dead glare but he only snickered back. “What happened? Why did you call me?”

“Do you have an extra toothbrush for me? I’ll buy you another one and…”

You stopped him halfway and removed his hands to stroll to the sink and opened the cabinet above it. “Here. There’s also a razor if you need.”

Smirking, Bateman sneaked behind you and pressed his wet body against yours. “Do ya think I need to shave?” He rubbed the mirror from steam to check himself, sliding a hand along his chiseled chin.

“I…I don’t know…I just thought in case you need to, the razor is here.”

“Mhm…” he hummed and before you knew it he nuzzled against your exposed neck, forcing you to gasp and stepped back right into his embrace, just like he planned it. “Does that tickle, Cupcake?” 

‘Dear Lord, please give me the strength to survive this.’

Staying still, you just swallowed hard and let him continue to attack your neck, which he did with precious care before, but now, Patrick also used his mouth and teeth, and that was already too much.

"I think you definitely have some stubble," you laughed, trying to turn it into a joke. But as soon as you tried to walk away, he pulled you back into his strong arms, and that was not funny. "Breakfast Patrick, I have to make breakfast, did you forget?"

"Not really, but I need your help."

"Help?"

The man gave you a devilish smile before lifting you up and sitting you on the bathroom counter, not even giving you a chance to protest. Then Bateman took the shaving cream, checking the brand name skeptically, but then averting his eyes, probably thinking it was better not to know. With deliberate, calculated movements, he applied the cream to his cheekbones, moving up and down his face. The sight was something you never thought you'd find so damn hot that you didn't even make a sound, just watched him carefully prepare to shave.

"Have you ever seen a man shave, darling?" Patrick asked in a cheeky tone, surely noticing the way you were staring at him.

You shook your head. “No,” you shamelessly checked on him, following the little buds of water slipping down his torso. “God, this is such a silly question, don’t you think?”

Instead of answering, Bateman flexed his muscles while watching in the mirror and missing the way you rolled your eyes. “Well, now you finally have a chance.” The man winked at you and grabbed the razor. “You know, I really like your place, it’s pretty clean.”

“You already said that.”

“Oh, did I?”

“Yes,” you crossed your arms and turned away just the moment when the man started to glide the razor against his jawline—you thought the blade would become blunt because his cheekbones were too sharp—his every action was smooth and skillful. “That was the first thing you said when we came in.”

“That only means that it’s really very clean here.”

Huffing, you fixed your robe and cursed to yourself, ‘Why does he always have to be like this?’

Opening the faucet, Patrick cleaned his face after the last stroke of the razor. “Can you check here?” 

Confused, you gave him a questioning gaze when he turned halfway, pointing at the apex of his jaw. Sheepishly, you touched his freshly shaved skin, feeling a slight prickly sensation. “I think it’s still a bit stubbly.” 

“Aha,” Bateman acknowledged and quickly took your hand in his big one, briefly kissing the top of it and giving you the razor. “I told you, I’d need your help, Cupcake.” “How do you even do it yourself?”

“The razors I use are much sharper than this one, honey,” he chuckled but once you placed the razor against his skin he stopped moving. “Just be careful.”

The last phrase struck a chord inside your chest and you even stopped for a moment to take a deep breath before you eventually began to shave the rest of the stubble. All the while, Patrick would glance at you attentively, his hazel irises like hypnotizing spirals, so you forced yourself to stay focused on the razor and the patch of his skin still covered in a shaving cream.

“You have such soft skin,” you mumbled mostly to yourself but you were sure he heard it. “It’s so pleasurable to touch.”

“(Y/n),” he suddenly called out your name in a stern voice. “I think we should talk about yesterday.” “No…”

"Listen to me," he grabbed the hand that held the razor and pushed it to the side. "You should stop taking that sedative."

“It was just an accident.” 

“You could die, Cupcake…”

"I...I know...I owe you for saving me," you finally stated, releasing your hand to finish shaving him. "But let me take care of my life."

“Ouch.”

“Oh my God! Did I hurt you?” You jolted in panic, almost dropping the razor as if you were hit by the electric shot.

“Yes, you did,” Bateman glided a palm along his now perfectly shaved cheeks. “With your words.”

Letting out a sad sigh, you put the razor into the sink next to you and reached for another towel for him as you watched him washing his face. The more you kept silent, the more palpable the tension was getting in the air and after a brief moment of contemplating, you decided that the best option now was just to go to the kitchen and cook.

“Toothbrush is here.” You murmured and got up from the bathroom counter, about to leave but Patrick stopped you. 

First, you glanced down at his grasp around your wrist, then you raised your eyes to meet his walnut ones, now they were absolutely dark and demanding. Inch by inch, the man was getting closer, soon you could feel the fresh scent of your soap on his wet skin as he pressed you along his broad form, one hand rested on the small of your back, while another snaked beneath your robe to outline one of your hard peaks, which were visible through the fabric.

“Pat-Patrick…”

“No more ‘Daddy’ again, huh?” he whispered into your ear, playing with your stray lock. “Do you remember how many times you called me like that last night?”

‘No! I don’t remember, I shouldn’t remember this, I…’

“...your sweet voice sounded so good with all these little dirty pleas, ‘Daddy, don’t stop, mmhm-please!’ Uhhh, that was really something,” Bateman crooned against your neck, forcing you to step back until he trapped you between his massive body and bathroom counter. “Got you.”

There was nothing to say more, once his warm mouth latched on yours, the urge to deny him fading with every second of the kiss, especially when Patrick savagely sucked on your lower lip and drew his tongue across it as if asking for permission to slip inside.

Gasping, you instinctively inclined your head to the side for a moment and the man used it for showering your delicate neck with little peeks which then transformed into wet, red marks. This sweet torture could last forever if you suddenly didn’t press your palm against his naked chest in a determined way.

“We can’t,” you protested when he got down to kiss you again. “You’re engaged, don’t you think it’s so mean to…cheat on your fiance?”

The man couldn’t hold back a scoff. “What does that have to do with anything? You owe me, Cupcake, you owe me a lot.” 

Annoyed, you made an attempt to push him away, but you obviously failed as Patrick was too strong, looming over you like a mountain. “If you mean the last time—I already thanked you and moreover, I didn’t ask you to do it, you know?” You watched his face changing into something more impish, the corners of his lips curled up as if everything was happening according to his plan. “You always decide for me…maybe it’s time to stop?”

Bateman chuckled. “Maybe it’s time to finally open your eyes?”

“Are you…really telling me this?!”

“You owe me a pretty big sum of money,” the man suddenly turned the conversation in another way. “And we had a deal…” Carefully, he trailed his finger along your cheek like an artist admiring his most precious creation. “Do you think I’d be so patient with your bad attitude to me if I were not really into you, hmm?”

The last words made you swallow hard and turned away for a moment, as you were on the verge of tears. Did he really just confirm that there was some kind of affection for you from his side?

“I…I know I owe a lot of money, but believe me, I’ll back them soon,” you removed his arms from your waist but the next second, Patrick placed them on the bathroom counter behind you from both sides, not allowing you to go away. “Please, believe me.”

“I don’t need that fucking money,” Patrick barked and unexpectedly gripped your shoulders, but when he noticed the glowing fear in your eyes, the man loosened his grasp and cupped your face. “I need you. Both your body and soul.”

Closing your eyes, you wanted to sink through the ground. “You want me to do things that you can’t buy with money…” you declared with a chilling coldness in your voice. “Other women are okay with being your toys, but I’m not. Now, let's finish this conversation, it won’t lead to anything.”

A tired sigh broke out from Bateman’s broad chest and for a second he even thought to let you go and turned over the page of the story of two broken souls, who met themselves so suddenly. Maybe now was that exact moment he was waiting so long, the moment to open the cards and confess, even though Patrick could hardly believe it would work.

"You don't seem to be listening to me at all," was all the man could say. "And that's not surprising, since no one really listens to me. Because...uhh...because no one really cares about what really bothers me…" He let you go and stepped back. "And you...I thought you were the only person who...who actually tried to understand me and act naturally."

"Patrick..."

He raised his hand in an eloquent gesture to let him continue. "You probably did it all because of the debt, but...I'll be honest, sometimes I made myself believe that you weren't acting like this just because of the money."

"Is this another manipulation?" You asked bluntly, holding back your tears. "How could I believe you after all the things you did to me? How many times did you treat me like a puppet that you no longer wanted to play with? And not to mention that you turned out to be engaged!" You grabbed your head and leaned against the bathroom counter, massaging your temples. "This is already too much."

The man huffed and cautiously approached you. With a soft, feathery movement, he touched your hands and pulled them away from your strained face. "At least you seem to care that I'm engaged," he said abruptly, moving you closer so that your head was now pressed against his massive chest. "I know it's overwhelming, (y/n). But..." the words suddenly stuck in his throat like a lump. "You're not alone in this." Patrick urged curly, running his large palm along the crown of your head before resting his chin on it, inhaling the scent of your soft hair. 

‘Not alone’, you repeated inside your head and looked up into his brown eyes, which were now so stern and contemplative—you have never seen them like that before. This man, oh God, this man was such a mess, he was making you lose the ground beneath your feet with his sudden confessions, but in the end, actions spoke louder than words, even though you wanted to believe him and sink into the strong feeling you had towards him—you simply couldn’t allow yourself to get lost in him as you would burn out like a match.

All the while you were standing like that, Bateman was hoping you would say something in return, but when you didn’t, he just released you from his embrace without saying a thing. Overwhelmed by emotions, you left the bathroom and let him finish his hygienic routine in private.

A bit later, you didn’t even remember how you cooked a breakfast for both of you, the only thing you did remember was his positive comment that it tasted pretty good. You couldn’t help but smile, though your plate still stood untouched. Patrick noticed that, but didn’t make any comments about that.

“To be honest, I really didn’t expect it to be that nice,” he chuckled and finished his glass of mineral water that he didn’t really like. Quickly checking his Rolex, which he wore right after he took a shower, he added, “I’m afraid it’s time for me to go. Can you please bring me my clothes?”

“Sure.” You raised up and quickly strolled to the iron board where his suit and shirt were waiting to be presented to their owner. “Here, I ironed them for you.”

Bateman froze in shock for a moment. “You…ironed them?”

“Uh, yes, but I did it very carefully, I know everything you wear is utterly expensive,” you gave him his garments and he started to examine every thing with meticulous attention. “I…I thought you wouldn’t like to go outside in rumpled clothes.”

"That's… that's very sweet of you, Cupcake. Really…" he replied, his blush barely noticeable to anyone but you. "Thanks…thanks for everything."

“You’re welcome.” You murmured shyly, crossing your arms over the chest and watching him getting up from the table and walking to your bedroom to dress up.

Moments later, you both were standing in your small hallway, Patrick fixing his tie and coat, looking at his reflection in the mirror.

“How do I look?” He asked nonchalantly, putting on the headphones of his Walkman.

Slightly upset, you leaned against the wall, your eyes gliding up and down his elegant, tall silhouette; the way the dark blue trench coat sat on his broad shoulders made you almost gasp in admiration.

“Perfect as always,” you stepped closer to adjust the collar of his shirt. “You’re like a Vogue cover which came alive.”

Fluttered, Bateman smiled and caught your hand to place a kiss on top of it. “And I always believe your compliments, they are so…sincere or…” he paused and looked into your eyes. “...or I’m just fooling myself.”

His usual chuckling now was less happy and it stirred something inside of you, so when you got up on your toes to kiss his cheek, Patrick took it like another chance to be intimate with you. With unhidden tenderness, the man pulled you into his arms to seal your mouths with a soft but passionate kiss which brought some unexpected relief for both of you.

“You know, I…I really appreciate your courage to be open with me,” you suddenly confessed when he broke the kiss, still holding you close. “It’s just that I need some time to think over things and…my life is such a mess.”

"Oh, you don't have to tell me that," Bateman sneered ironically to himself. "Since I know who made your life so messy," he stopped you from saying anything else by pressing his finger to your lips. Then the man slowly leaned down so that your foreheads now touched in the most intimate way. "Promise me you won't take those pills again."

"And you promise me you won't say things like no one gives a fuck about you," you gripped his arm, rubbing his firm bicep under the soft fabric of his coat. "Because I do give a fuck about you, even though I don't really like it."

"We'll talk about...us. That's the only promise I can make right now."

"Us?"

"You heard what I said," he pinched your nose, just like after the fashion show. "I'll call you today and Cupcake?" He leaned down to whisper in your ear, accidentally brushing his nose against your neck. "You're always on my mind, but I still haven't decided if it's good or not." The way he used your words to tease you brought a broad smile to your face, but the next time, all joy faded as the man stroked your cheek one last time before stepping aside to check himself in the mirror. "Hope to see you soon, darling."

With that he closed the door behind him and as much as you hated saying goodbye, you hated the moments like that, when you couldn’t control yourself as your emotions peaked, causing your knees to buckle and you stopped yourself from falling down only because you managed to lean on the nearby wall. The whole thing about your relationship with Bateman was one big mistake, as you would never find yourself belonging to this world—your meeting was a joke of fate—no less to say. Although you knew it, your heart was like a rebellion who refused to listen, to obey, to accept the truth that there were no chances to turn this situation in a way that would help these relationships to become healthy and normal. ‘Normal, huh? Do yuppies even know such a word?’ Laughing ironically to yourself, you got up and went back into your kitchen to wash the dishes. The sight of Patrick sitting here with a glass of water in his hand was still so fresh in your mind, but now you began to doubt if that really had happened. 

All day later, you couldn’t sleep, you couldn’t eat, waiting for his call but he never did it. It was not surprising after the shit that man had done, but today you were really hoping he would keep his word. But your hopes were broken to pieces again, in the most brutal possible way because you really decided to give it a try and believed him.

When the night came to New York City, you were standing in your living room with a cup of freshly brewed coffee, thinking about what would you do next and trying to think less about what Patrick was doing right now…and even less about with whom he probably could be. ‘...with Courtney or maybe with his fiance, Evelyn?’ You snickered sadly to yourself and finished your drink. Coffee was supposed to help you to keep awake but instead it only made you even more sleepy, so you didn’t even realize how you fell asleep on your little couch while putting down the notes of how today’s day had gone in your diary.

The next moment you were awakened by the sudden doorbell, which caught you off guard and even scared you a bit as you didn’t wait for anyone. Quickly enveloping your robe, you got up and saunted to the door to look at the peephole—you would lie to yourself if you said you weren’t expecting someone specific, but when you saw nothing but flowers, your heart skipped a beat. 

With one swift motion, you opened the door and an unknown guy instantly greeted you with a polite tone. “Good morning, miss (y/n),” he then handed you a big bouquet of red and white roses—it was so heavy you could barely hold it. “Uh, can you please put your sign here?”

Confused, you pressed the flowers to your chest to see the man’s face. “Are you… are you sure it’s for me?”

The courier only smiled and giggled. “Of course, but you can check the address, if you want,” the man showed you the paper with the order details. “We make no mistakes, miss, that’s why our service is the best around New York.”

“I see,” you responded and put your signature on the place he pointed you. “But, can I ask you who sent me this?”

“There’s a card inside if I’m not mistaken,” the courier replied and with that he put the paper inside his bag. “Have a good day, ma'am.”

“Thanks.” 

With that, you closed the door and somehow proceeded into your living room where you put the bouquet on the coffee table and began to look for the vase for it. When you managed to find it, you poured some water and placed the flowers into it, then you remembered the courier’s words about the card and the next second you were already leafing through the flowers. Soon, a small white card caught your attention and when you picked it out, the first thing you noticed was two beautiful letters—P.B. in the end of the text which said: 

“Good morning, my sweet Cupcake, 

I’m sorry I didn’t call you tonight, I was extremely busy and didn’t really have any free time, but I hope this little gift would cheer you up a bit. What do you think about going to a yacht club these weekends? I’m looking forward to hearing from you soon. 

Utterly yours, P.B.” 

Your hands began to shake the moment you finished reading, but you managed to regain your composure. Driven by the unbridled happiness inside your chest, you leaned down to inhale the sweet scent of flowers—God, it felt like a dream. And speaking of dreaming—you were still so sleepy that after you finally calmed down, you decided to come back into the bed and nap a little bit longer. The sheets were still smelling of him, coaxing you to rub your face against the pillows and imagine him being here with you and somehow, you finally realized how deep this man was rooted inside your heart. ‘Utterly yours…’ You kept replaying these words inside your head until you drifted off to another dream, but this time, it was not a nightmare, but a heaven where Patrick was only yours, and you were his only one.

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

#american psycho #patrick bateman x reader #patrick bateman imagine #patrick bateman #patrick bateman x female reader #patrick bateman x you #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slasher x you #slasher smut #patrick bateman smut #patrick bateman headcanon #christian bale smut #christian bale x reader #patrick bateman reader #christian bale #patrick bateman imagines

[vioartemis]

In another life (Sam's version)

(Sam Carpenter x fem! reader)

Summary: You're Tara's childhood best friend, and years after leaving Woodsboro, you meet her again in New York, making unexpecting feeling emerge. Tara || Sam Warnings: age gap (?) reader is 19 and Sam is 24 a/n: I made another one shot, kinda complementary of this one, with Tara :)) I put the link up there if you're interested (English isn't my first language, I'm sorry if there are mistakes or if something doesn't make sense TvT)

She had known you since you were 4, when Tara and you were in the same class for the first time. You were also her neighbor, but she never knew before that.

You were her little sister’s friend. Best friend, even. When Tara wanted to play, it was always you she wanted to play with. And Sam always accompanied her, so she saw you a lot too.

Then, when she was in age to want to have some money, she babysat you and Tara’s other friends. You were always so nice and sweet, always smiling, and opened to hugs.

She liked you a lot. Out of all of her sister’s friends, you were her favorite.

Sadly the time you spent together came to an end when she ran away.

Even if she didn’t, you wouldn’t have been able to see each other a lot more, because your parents had found a new job, and you moved out of Woodsboro a few months after her.

And now, almost 6 years later, you were about to meet again.

Tara and the rest of her friends just left a party , right after Sam barged in and tazzed some dude in the balls. The Carpenter sisters were fighting in the middle of the road, when a random girl threw her soda at Sam.

Half of the group tried to get the girl while the other held them back, trying not to cause too much drama. They didn't see it, but one of the girls was filming the whole thing.

Luckily for everyone, you did see it. You were actually going to that party, and saw the whole scene from afar. You didn't like that kind of attitude at all.

So when the girls walked passed you, you grabbed the phone of the one who was filming, and deleted the video before she could post it.

They all gave you horrified looks, like you did the most horrendous thing.

"That's called karma" you mumbled to yourself while you walked away, in the direction of their victim

She was trying to dry her jumper, when you approached her.

"Are you okay? I'm sorry, people are so dumb sometimes..." you said as she lifted her head up to look at you

As soon as your eyes met each other’s, both of you knew who the other was.

“Sam...?”

“Y/n…?”

You chuckled in surprise, while Sam looked at you with wide eyes at how much you had changed.

"Oh my god..." she murmured "What are you doing in New York? It's really far away from Woodsboro"

"Oh yeah, my parents got a job here, a few months after you left... We never really moved again after. What about you?"

"We needed... fresh air. A new start. Away from Woodsboro and Ghostface"

You had heard about the recent Woodsboro murders, but couldn't believed all the rumors about Sam being the real mastermind behind it all.

"Of course, I understand that" you said with a light smile "You should take off your jumper, you're going to catch a cold..." you continued, taking off your hoodie and handing it to her "I don't know if it's the right size, but at least it'll keep you warm"

Sam gave you a thankful look, and put on your hoodie. It smells like her... she thought.

You smiled, and hugged her without thinking about it. You had missed her a lot more than you would ever admit.

"It’s so nice seeing you again…" you said quietly, as she hugged you back

You stayed like that for a minute, silently enjoying the hug, until you got interrupted.

"Sam, what are you doing?"

You broke the hug to look at the person, who appeared to be Tara, your childhood best friend.

"Y/n?" she smiled as she saw you and opened her arms for a hug

You gave it to her happily, holding her extra tight. Then, you discussed a bit, trying to catch up on each other’s life.

“Oh, I wanted to ask you, would you mind giving me your number? So we can talk” Sam suddenly asked you... a little nervously? You weren't sure.

You nodded and took her phone when she handed it to you, before putting your number in it. You gave it back to her with a big smile.

You were more than happy to see the Carpenter sisters again. Especially one of them.

<><><><> ♡ <><><><>

Since you gave Sam your phone number, you hadn’t stopped talking. Every day as soon as you woke up, you started texting. You just had so much to catch up onto!

When you weren’t in class, you made a habit of going to the café where Sam was working. Your excuse was that it was always calm, building a good atmosphere to study there. The actual reason was to see her more.

When she was on a break, she would come to your table and either start catting with you, or just keep you company when you were actually working. She would never say it out loud, but she loved the serious look you had when you were concentrated.

She enjoyed your presence in the café. She was glad you chose to sit there to study, for when she had finished her shift, you could spend more time together. She would often walk you home, to make sure you’re safe.

Sometimes you were with Tara, studying together at the café. Sam loved her sister, but in those moments, when Tara and you were laughing together, so close, while she was behind the counter dealing with rude clients… she couldn’t help but feel her heart ache.

You knew that feeling damn well, every time a client was trying to flirt with Sam. Or at least it looked like they were flirting to you. And every time you had to slap yourself mentally, not understanding why you felt that way.

The answer would come a bit later.

You had planned a movie night with Sam at your apartment. You were alone and bored, and she has nothing better to do as Tara was doing homework with the twins.

You were happy to have that moment with her, but also nervous. The time you had spent together since you met again only brought back feelings you thought were just a stupid baby crush. Turns out it isn't just a baby crush. You had a crush on your best friend's sister.

This whole situation gave you anxiety. What you didn't know was that you weren't the only one.

Sam also had a crush on you. Her sister's best friend. Her sister's crush. She always had known Tara had a crush on you, she even thought you would be together at one point.

You would have made such a cute couple. That's what she had thought for a long time. Now she just can't help but feel an ounce of jealousy thinking about it.

And then the guilt strikes. Tara loved you, she couldn't do that to her... And even if she didn't, you were just so much younger than her... 5 years can be a lot, especially since you were young.

But again, imagining you with someone else made her jealous.

She was lost, and torn between telling you how she felt or just trying to forget her feelings.

"What do you want to watch?"

Your voice made her snap out of her thoughts.

"Oh uh... I don't know... Why don't you pick something?"

"Hmm... Okay! There's this movie on Netflix that I wanted to see..." you said, sitting on the couch next to her -at a reasonable distance- and turning on the tv.

While you looked for the movie on Netflix, Sam couldn't keep her eyes away from you. You were just so pretty...

She had trouble concentrating on the movie, often distracted by your presence next to her.

You could feel her eyes on you as the movie played. It wasn't the first time you caught her looking at you, but every time when you looked at her, she had looked away. You had figured it would be the case this time too.

You were wrong.

When you looked at her, her eyes were still on you. At this moment, you were like frozen in place. She had never looked at you like that before.

She had the look you gave her when she was not looking. In love.

While you were gazing into each other's eyes, you both got closer and closer to each other, to the point you could kiss her if you wanted to. And you wanted to. So bad.

"Can I... can I kiss you? Please..." you asked quietly, almost pleading her to let you kiss her

She looked hesitant, but eventually gave in and kissed you, putting a hand on your cheek to keep you close. Kissing you felt so right... as if your lips were made to be kissed by hers.

But again, Tara loved you... and Sam felt like she was betraying her sister.

She pulled away from the kiss.

"I'm sorry I... we shouldn't have done that..."

You felt your heart sink at her words. You thought she liked you back...

Your pain must have been visible on your face, as Sam was quick to talk again.

"It's not against you Y/n... I... I really like you but..." she sighed "Tara has a crush on you since forever... I can't do that to her..."

"What...? Wait... What?" you started, surprised

You never knew Tara had a crush on you. You only ever saw her as your best friend and thought it was the same for her.

"Sam you can't just- you can't just put her feelings above yours... I mean- I understand it's going to be difficult for her... But it's not like we chose that... I- I love you Sam... And Tara's my best friend, her well being is important to me... But seeing you without being able to tell you how I feel or kiss you... it's torture"

As you spoke, you asked yourself if it wasn't too much. Scare her away was the last thing you wanted. But everything you said was true.

Sam was looking at you, mouth agape, clearly not expecting that. She didn't expect you to like her back, let alone make her a whole love declaration.

She wanted to give in and take you in her arms and kiss you again and tell you how much she loved you. She wanted to be as honest with you as you were with her. She wanted to love you openly.

But there would be consequences. Tara would be hurt. Tara would feel betrayed.

But again... you were right. She couldn't put Tara's feelings above hers all the time. She loved you just so much... She wasn't sure she would be able to recover if she didn't give it a shot.

She cupped your face with both hands and kissed you again, more confidently, more passionately than before. She loved you, she wanted that kiss to happen. She wanted you to happen.

<><><><> ♡ <><><><>

Telling Tara about your relationship was harder than you thought. It never seemed to be the right moment.

Now you saw the hints of her crush on you. You saw the smiles, the looks she gave you, how her tone slightly changed when you were alone.

Both Sam and you were trying to find a good moment to tell her, but it wasn’t easy. And the more you waited, the more difficult it would be to tell her. You had to find a way to tell her quickly.

The whole situation was giving you so much anxiety…

“How are you?” Sam asked as you close your apartment door

“Tired… You?”

“Same”

You took off your shoes and hung your jacket, before sitting on the couch next to her. She pulled you on her lap and wrapped her arms around you, holding you close. Her warm embrace helped you relax a bit, as you nuzzled your face against her neck.

You stayed like that for a while, just enjoying each other in a comfortable silence.

When you pulled away, it was to kiss her. You’d wanted to do that the whole day and couldn’t even tell anyone about it. About her. About how much you loved her.

By the way she kissed you, you knew she felt the same.

Even if she felt bad for her sister, she couldn’t stop herself anymore. Now that she has had the chance to kiss you, she never wanted to stop. She felt so at ease when she was with you. She could be herself without the fear to be judged.

“I love you so much…” she murmured, her grip on your hips tightening ever so slightly

“Me too Sam… I love you too”

You kissed her again, arms around her neck, before hugging her again. You closed your eyes, relaxing in her arms once again.

You had been so stressed for the past days that you had trouble sleeping. But like that, in her arms, it only took you a minute to fall asleep.

Sam didn't notice right away, and started talking to you while rubbing your back.

"... Y/n?" she eventually asked as you weren't answering her

She moved slightly to get a look at your face, and her lips curled up into a soft smile as she saw you were asleep.

"You really were exhausted, hm?" she murmured, kissing your temple softly

She then hesitated before carrying you in her arms, careful not to wake you up, and made her way to your room. She laid you on your bed, putting your blanket over you.

"Goodnight angel..." she whispered before kissing your forehead

She was about to leave when she felt you grab her shirt.

"Don't go, please..." you pleaded quietly

You needed her right now, needed her arms around you, her oh so comforting warmth as she held you close.

Sam bit her bottom lip, thinking, but it didn't take long until she gave in and slipped under the sheets next to you. She couldn't resist you -and she didn't want to be away from you.

She wrapped her arms around you, letting you snuggle up to her.

"Goodnight Sammie..."

Your voice was barely audible, showing how tired you were. Sam smiled at your words, the nickname provoking her cheeks to turn a bit red.

"Sleep well" she said back, kissing the top of your head, before closing her eyes

Having you in her arms like that was just so relaxing. She felt like she was in heaven. The thought of waking up next to you made a smile creep up to her face, and was the last before she fell asleep as well.

The next morning, you woke up in her arms. It had been the best sleep you had in days. You didn't even want to move, you felt so at peace in her arms...

You eventually opened your eyes to see Sam was already awake, a smile on her face.

"Good morning" she said before kissing you

"'morning" you said back, smiling as she rolled on her back, pulling you on top of her without breaking the kiss

You were both in your own world; nothing else mattered at the moment, to the point none of you checked your phones. If you did check your phones, you would've seen tons of missed calls and texts from Tara.

She was worried for her sister didn't come back at their apartment -naturally because she was with you all night.

After some more kisses, you got out of bed and made your way to the kitchen.

"What do you want for breakfast?" you asked Sam

"What do you have?"

"I have... eggs, bacon... bread... Uhh... yeah that's it" you let out an awkward chuckle

"Eggs and bacon sound nice" she smiled

You nodded, and put the bacon in a pan to cook it.

While you were waiting in front of the stove, you felt Sam's hands snicker to your waist. You turned around, and she took the occasion to kiss you.

What you didn't know was that Tara had decided to come to your apartment -as you weren't answering her calls and texts, and currently had a clear view of the scene through your kitchen's window.

She couldn't see who it was, but the scene let little to the imagination; you were clearly kissing someone. So that's why she wasn't answering... she thought

Clearly enjoying the kiss, Sam lifted you up to sit you on the counter, hands on your hips, her lips still on yours.

If Tara felt her heart sink at the sight of the kiss, it was nothing compared to how she felt now.

Her own sister was making out with the girl she has had a crush on for years.

She was mad for it seemed not to be the first time, considering the way you were holding onto each other. Which meant you lied to her.

But knowing you, maybe you just had a hard time telling her. It had always been that way; every time you had bad news to tell her, it took you weeks because you knew it would upset her.

That thought calmed her down a bit.

When she looked at the window again, she saw you smile at Sam just the way she smiled at you. You were in love, that was certain.

You seemed happy. And deep down, that’s what Tara wanted. Seeing you happy.

So she turned around and walked back to her and Sam’s apartment, thinking ‘maybe, in another life, we’ll be together…’

[Tara's version]

#sam carpenter #sam carpenter x fem reader #sam carpenter x reader #scream #samantha carpenter

[dearheart42regenerated]

MOTORCITY SEASON 2 MASTERPOST

once upon a time, over 10 years ago, just a few months after the announcement that Motorcity was officially canceled...the creators of the show took pity on their heartbroken fandom and gave us several glimpses of what season 2 might have been like. they saw how much we loved Motorcity and gave us every scrap of info they could at the time, so that we could use those scraps to imagine our own personal "Season 2" - whether it continue on in our fics, our fanart, or simply our own heads.

I'm making this masterpost so that none of this material will be lost or forgotten, and so any fanartists/fic writers still hanging around today can use it for inspiration. if there's any related material I've missed, PLEASE feel free to add it in a reblog or let me know in my inbox! I want this list to be as complete as we can make it! :)

--

The Season 2 That Never Was: A Comprehensive List

Motorcity Season 2 Rough Intro "Scratch audio by our very own Chris P." (x)

-> backup download

--

Season 2 Writer's Wall posted (and later deleted) by @chrisprynoski on twitter, and shared on tumblr by @peopleofmotorcity, these pictures of the writer's wall showed us a "rough sketch" of what could have been, and gave our imaginations SO many fun theories and possibilities to play with. every blurry sticky note was a treasure to us. :')

-> original tumblr posts: x x x x x x x x x x x x -> image masterpost -> google drive folder

--

Chris Prynoski's Fan Interview + Tumblr Q&A's this whole interview on youtube is a delight to listen to, and Part 2 in particular has some interesting bits about season 2. (skip to 17:10 for some good stuff about Texas and Chuck's backgrounds!)

-> Part 1 -> Part 2

Chris P also answered several juicy season 2 questions on tumblr. sadly his blog is deactivated now, but you can still read through all of them at the links below!

-> image masterpost -> google drive folder

--

Capri Chilton - Mike Chilton's long lost big sister! I can't remember where or when it was first revealed that they were considering giving Mike a secret older sister, and I haven't been able to track down the origin. that being said, when it was revealed, the fandom loved the idea so much that they begged the creators to make it canon. Chris P busted out the "magical canon stick", gave us this delightful concept sketch, and "Capri Chilton" was born!

--

The Motorcity Series Bible "To help you all understand what it is you are reading, this is the material that Titmouse used to help pitch Motorcity, and it was also a tool for writers to use when coming up with episodes to help understand who the characters were before there was any other reference. That being said, this was one of the very first documents about Motorcity, so many things have changed or evolved from these early concepts." (x)

-> original tumblr posts: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 -> image backups -> PDF download

EDIT: the COMPLETE series bible has now been leaked by Lost Media Busters on X (Twitter) and helpfully shared by @waksworldrebooted!!

--> here is a google drive download for the full PDF file!

--

Motorcity Series Bible - Redacted Version (Pages 1, 2, 17, 19, 20) funfact: @peopleofmotorcity was the official? unofficial? tumblr blog for Motorcity, and it was run by a guy named Mac - an animator for the show who loved to tease and joke around with the fandom. before revealing the actual first 13 pages of the series bible, he posted this censored version as a prank - a mix of truth and trolling! it's up to the fandom to decide which is which. ;)

-> original tumblr posts: 1 2 17 19 20 -> image backups -> PDF download

--

MTV Era Motorcity Masterpost a fantastic collection of glimpses into the original pilot/pitch trailer that would evolve into the show we know and love today, found and compiled by @waksworldrebooted. "In 2000, Chris Prynoski pitched a cartoon called Motorcity. He made a card and a website promoting the show, which wouldn't see the light of day until the Walt Disney Company got their hands on it."

--> tumblr masterpost (including wayback links to the old website) --> twitter sources from Chris P himself :)

--

Motorcity Unaired Pilot - 2009 Disney Version Originally aired during Comic Con 2012, the pilot was recorded and then posted on YouTube by Allison Simmons in July of 2012, later being privatized in 2022. The video was re uploaded onto VKVideo 22 days after its original posting to YouTube and is still currently available to watch online. (x)

--> backup download --> also viewable here!

--

if I find more material, I will add it here! :)

#motorcity #motorcity season 2 #mike chilton #capri chilton #julie kane #chris prynoski #peopleofmotorcity #Youtube

[matan4il]

Hi friend! I was wondering if you had any favorite Israeli/Hebrew children's books! Also any fave Israeli musicians??

Hello, my lovely! :D How are you?

Ooooh, do I! Man, you're gonna regret asking me this. XD Sorry, not sorry... So shall we start with Israeli/Hebrew kids' books?

Anything by Yehuda Atlas (יהודה אטלס), but especially And That Kid is Me (והילד הזה הוא אני). Short humorous stories, written in rhymes, perfectly capturing how baffling the world can be for a kid, and how silly adults can seem, or just what things can sometimes feel like for a child. It's one of those books that work, funny and essential, 'coz it's so true. He just gets kids.

Another one that I love, and am probably one of the few Israeli kids who even know this book, is Siamina and the Cats of Yemin Moshe (סיאמינה והחתולים של ימין משה) by Holocaust survivor Uri Orlev (אורי אורלב. He's more well known for his books about that period of time, which are also highly recommended, but I only dared read them when I was older). Jerusalem is known for its many stray cats, and the book is a love fest for cats and Jerusalem, with some historical sites becoming in the book the "homes" of the cats.

David Gershtein, who crafted the engravings for the book, is a pretty popular Israeli artist, and you can find some of his creations all over the country, and even entire shops dedicated to his works.

Last one ('coz I don't wanna burden you too much, but lemme know if you want more recs!) that I really loved as a kid, was Yael's House (הבית של יעל) by Miriam Rot (מרים רות). It was about a girl who has a home, but she wants a house that would be all her own. She tries all sorts of solutions, including taking over the space under the kitchen table... Not gonna lie, as a kid I was inspired to follow in her footsteps, but my parents were not impressed.

Now, as for Israeli musicians! You have stumbled onto dangerous ground, my friend, since I'm a music addict, and in love with the Hebrew language, so songs in Hebrew are something I can go on about for freaking years...

I'll share with you the link to two unlisted playlists that I made on YouTube. One is of some of my fave Israeli songs (though I started it years ago, so sadly, I see some vids have been deleted or made private, and there are literally hundreds of songs on the list, meaning I'm not sure which ones are missing), but also with a few thrown in 'coz I think they're good for people who wanna know Israeli culture and popular Israeli songs, and the other is one that I started making with songs connected in different ways to the current war we're in. They're not all faves, but I thought they capture a moment in time, so I wanted to have them grouped together. I'm actually not done with either list, the latter I really just started not that long ago, so you can expect them to grow.

If we're talking specific Israeli musicians, I find it hard to answer, I think almost every singer or songwriter has at least one good song to offer, and likewise whenever I wanna name one, I feel like adding, "Except for this song... and that one..." No musician is great all the time. But I guess some of my faves (where I like more songs than I don't) include Ivri Lider, Berry Sakharof, Yehuda Poliker, Ran Danker, Harel Ska'at, Chanan ben Ari, Narkis, Eliad, Amir Dadon, Avraham Tal, Marina Maximilian, Achinoam Nini (Noa), Sheila Ferber, Gilad Segev, Ofra Chaza, Meni Berger, Yardena Arazi, Natan Goshen, Keren Peles, Izhar Ashdot, Nurit Galron, and the bands Beit Ha'bubot, Ha'Yehudim, Metropolin, Ethnix, Mashina and Synergia.

I was thinking I should add at least one of these vids to my reply, and for whatever reason, the one that started playing itself in my head (where there is always music) was a song first released in 1993, אדמה חמה (Hot Earth) by Shlomo Gronich and the Shva Choir (Sheba is the English pronunciation of Shva). I love this song, I think the vid was very cool for its time, and I'm still never gonna forgive the MTV viewers who gave it last place in a video music awards. The song incorporates Hebrew and Amharic, both Semitic languages, the latter being the language spoken by Ethiopian Jews. You can actually listen to the whole special album (inspired by the story of the Ethiopian Jewish community's journey to Israel) here.

But just for the fun of throwing in a gay themed song as well, here's התשמע קולי (Will You Hear My Voice), a love poem for a man, originally written by an Israeli poet called Rachel (full name: Rachel Bluwstein Sela), but it's performed here by only men, and no one changed the pronouns, which makes it a mlm song to me. It's so pretty and sad (Rachel is believed to have written the poem to a former lover, a man she even thought at one point she would marry, but WWI tears them apart and they never meet again. She wrote this poem, after getting the news that she's terminally ill), it fills my soul at the same time as it tugs on my heart.

I hope this helps! Sending so much love! xoxox

#ask #gingerpolyglot #israeli #israel #music #hebrew music #israeli music #israeli books #hebrew books #jewish #hebrew #jumblr #frumblr #fandom love

[writing--whore]

Hunger

Pairing: The Darkling x Reader

Summary: A/O/B fic. It's your first heat and you're a distraction to all of the men at the Little Palace

Word count: 600

Warnings: No smut but very sexually suggestive

A/N: Okay so I wrote this when season 1 came out. I never actually finished it lol. If anyone is interested, I would love to finish it!

I'm so upset tho bc I did write more than this but I think I accidentally deleted the next few scenes 😭

Also hot take but I am kinda disappointed by what they did to the Darkling in season 2. Season 1 Darkling had me going FERAL. I miss the scenes with him and Alina 😩 There was so much chemistry arghhh it was so hot.

As you walked into the council room, all the men turned to look at you, eyes slightly wide and hungry. You could almost picture the saliva dripping down their chins. You shrunk into yourself as you made your way to your seat. 

It was your first heat and you didn’t want to let it prevent you from going to work. But a heat was even more intense than you’d expected it to be and it seemed to be getting worse by the minute. 

You were absolutely throbbing and your pants were soaked through. You couldn’t help but squeeze your thighs together to try and gain some amount of satisfaction. It only made things worse but once you’d started you couldn’t seem to stop. 

You dared to look around yourself and you noticed that concentration strained on the men’s faces as they now refused to look at you. They were trying so hard to be civil and not to pounce on you. 

When none of you thought you could take it any longer, General Kirigan finally strode into the meeting. His nostrils flared as soon as he entered, clearly taking notice of your scent. He didn’t say anything as he placed his papers down on the table ready to conduct the discussion. You’d never seen him look so tense before, not even during his most high-stakes political negotiations. You started to regret not taking the day off work.

You could hardly think straight, your nipples were hard beneath your bra and you wanted so badly to start palming your breasts through your clothes. You were desperate for any sort of stimulation and had to restrain yourself from rocking your mound the chair. You had an inkling that none of the men were paying attention too, if their stolen glances were anything to go off. 

A few of the men were without a mate and you knew that they were desperate to throw themselves at you. And your instincts were telling you to do the same. But one man’s scent in particular was driving you insane. General Kirigan’s. He was the alpha of all alphas. And it came off in his scent. You were practically dizzy with it. 

You were so painfully aware of his presence. Sure he was incredibly attractive and you might have always had a little crush on him but this feeling was nothing in comparison to that. A part of you was willing to do absolutely anything for that man to put you out of your misery. But its not as if the General Kirigan would ever want to be your mate, you thought sadly. 

“I think that’s enough for today.” He declared.

You checked the clock. You were finishing 30 minutes early. You shrunk into yourself even more. They couldn’t stand your presence for one second more. 

You stuffed your belongings into your bag and went to hurry out.

“Y/N, I want you to stay behind.” Kirigan instructed. 

You froze, tightly clutching your bag, and turned back around.

His hands were pressed down on top of the table - arms as tense as logs. He refused to look at you. 

The door closed shut behind the last person to leave. His scent smelt even more intense now it was just the two of you. 

His eyes remained on the table as he spoke to you - each word was strained: “Y/N, please take the next few days off.” 

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.”

He nodded. 

That was all he wanted to say. You should go now, leg it back to your room. But part of you wanted to stay. You hesitated for a moment, your legs slightly shaking and your pants so wet that a drop of it started to trickle down your thigh. You needed Kirigan’s scent to surround you, to claim you, to mark you as his. 

He interrupted your thoughts, “You may leave.”

Of course, your fantasy was never going to happen. 

“Sorry, Sir.” You repeated and hurried off. 

#the darkling x reader #darkling x reader #general kirigan x reader #aleksander morozova x reader #the darkling x you

[trickster-archangel]

Random thoughts about Hawaii Five-0 rewatch: part 1/?

So, as someone of my mutuals already knows, I'm currently undergoing the exhausting task of checking all the fucking 61 DVDs from the H50 box set before the 30-days guarantee expires, because it's physically impossible to watch them all completely in that time, even if I took 1 month leave. So I'm simply skipping back and forth and leaving the regular rewatch for when my life will be less of a living hell...so, supposedly around 2038...

I have one complaint, which is the subtitles are not completely matching all dialogues, but since my brain only needs them until it's switched to English-mode and I can start understanding it again, I guess it's alright. Second complaint: they're fucking HUGE and OVERLAPPING THE SCENES SO RANDOMLY IT HURTS.

Anyway, I've by now processed only s1-s5, and dude....some things I caught in the deleted scenes (which I've watched entirely) AND in some parts of the commentaries I specifically sought because curiosity won, and which I've never seen giffed or captioned....man, I was so angry and disappointed at times. So I thought I'd be randomly processing them here, no pics sorry, only thoughts.

~~~~~~more under the cut~~~~~~

Thought #1: Alex and Scott goofing around.

Trust me. The gag reels are so much better than you'd expect. At times I was genuinely laughing to tears and god knows how rare it is.

What I loved most was to watch that scene where Alex and Scott start cussing in Italian, and I bet no one who's not Italian could understand a fuck about what they're yelling. Best part, though, were the subtitles, captioning ALEX AND SCOTT: SWEARING IN ITALIAN 😂 Just to make sure what language exactly they were using.

Thought #2: missed chance to make Amber's character less of a plastic doll, or: Why did you fucking cut those 57 seconds?!?!

While watching s5 deleted scenes, I stumbled upon two real jewels from the 24th episode. I'm still trying to understand why they couldn't include them in the canon episode, since both of them combined are less than a minute and surely there were other moments that could've been cut. My only explanation, sadly, is that it would've painted Amber in quite a different light, making her a stronger, rounder character, and giving her an agency we rarely saw in her, except when confronting her ex husband. They could've followed that route, but we cannot have a beautiful woman who's also her own person, a self-confident person, and not just a plastic Barbie doll, right?! God forbid a woman can have agency and call out men on their bullshit, it would threat masculine privilege too much....

So, what exactly happened that bothered me so deeply? (Be aware I'm quoting by heart and not literally, as I didn't take screenshots and anyway I can't make gifs. Also, the following meta is just my interpretation of the implications running through subtext).

The first scene is very short, just six or seven seconds long, but it's a jewel in subtext and non-verbal communication. It takes place presumably after or around the moment Rachel tells Danny about Charlie: we see them from afar, clearly in a street-taken point of view, from an external observer. They are agitated and distressed, Rachel more than Danny, who's tensely spread on the bench with his arms looped behind the backrest, angling far from Rachel's compact and almost self-hugging frame.

They're distressed, not happy, not even remotely connecting to each other, so it's clear it's not a scene which could be envisioned as romantic. It's only a couple of seconds long, and then we see whose this external point of view belongs to: Amber. Amber who's not an idiotic, mellow, shallow doll. Amber who's been so clearly upset by Danny's lie about the texts, that she decided to follow him to the place Rachel had indicated. Amber who's been manipulated and controlled and abused long enough to become suspicious and self-preserving when someone she loves, and who knows her vulnerability, tries to play her around. Amber who looks at them, and clearly isn't angry nor jealous, because those few moments the actress uses to convey all of Amber's inner distress, are some of her best ones (giving that the actress, alas, is not very expressive to begin with), and we understand that she doesn't see any romance in the air. She's disappointed. She's hurt. Betrayed. Again.

Amber's face, in a handful of seconds, perfectly displays the devastating feeling of someone who finally felt safe and respected and secure, only to discover that it's yet another kind of control and manipulation, less cruel, less brutal, but not less humiliating and even worrying.

This is something she's learnt at her expense, and now that she knows the red flags, she cannot trust a man who can't be honest with her, not with this kind of problems, not with something which is clearly affecting his life to a deep level. He wants Amber to be a part of his life, but only if he can control the terms, limits, boundaries and times of their relationship. And Amber has been through it all before, and can't trust that history won’t repeat itself.

She then drives away, hurt and disappointment written all over her face.

The second deleted scene is even more important plotwise, because it explains Amber's absence as Danny’s plus one at Kono's wedding, after all the talk he did in the car about bringing some Amber's friend as Steve's date, and it casts a new light over Danny's reaction to Steve's resolve to ask Cath to marry him, or his tension about Lynn, or Amber's condistent absence for the whole first part of s6, or even Danny's and Amber's fight during their Valentine's dinner.

The scene is longer, about fifty seconds, and it supposedly takes place right at the end of the episode, after Danny pulls up at the hospital's parking lot, after Steve's affectionate text. He takes his phone out of his pocket again because he's received a voice-mail message.

A message from Amber (sorry, I noticed just now I'm still going with Amber instead of Melissa).

She says she's sorry to be doing this by voice-mail because she'd prefer to do it in person, but given their situation it's probably for the best if she spares them both the trouble to be forced to find shallow excuses. She says he's an amazing man, and that she likes what they have and that she thinks it might be real, and that she hopes he feels the same. She's understanding that his job comes first and it's terribly demanding, as she's also aware of how hard his life and his backstory is, with Grace and Rachel. This all considered, she thinks it's best if they stop and take a pause, so that he can reflect and decide if he wants to keep this thing going, but as for now, she can't keep seeing him on these terms.

Amber decided to stop seeing Danny until he decided what to do with their relationship and be honest with her, and started thinking seriously if he was just using her, as she probably felt.

Why?? Why did they cut this whole plotline? It's pivotal for Danny's arc, for his strained and angry attitude towards everyone, for his constant distress, for his even worsening negativity, for the way he's overcompensating with excessive euphoria to Steve's announcement about Cath, for how he meddles with them and confronts Cath about being honest, for how he's not thrilled about Lynn's insertion inside Steve's life.

Because he's alone, at that time. Call it temporary breakup or period of reflection or a break, but he was single and thinking, again, about everything he was doing wrong with his life and his relationships, and falling again into his old black hole of depression and self-sabotage, and seeing Steve going on with his life even at the cost of pretending he was happy with this woman he had supposedly no trouble cheating on, during their "couple retreat", making him wonder if either what he had with Lynn wasn't serious, or if his obvious charade about his threesome with Alyssa and her friend had a second meaning.

Also, they were probably both single again, or at least testing the waters, when they were at the retreat. And Danny definitely was when Cath left Steve once again abandoned, betrayed, and never-chosen in face of anything else.

Quite a lot of subtext to think about, for just 57 seconds which were, prudently, cut.

#h50 #mcdanno #steve mcgarrett #danny williams #h50 5x24 #danny/melissa unhealthy relationship #rachel edwards #h50 meta #h50 rewatch #h50 deleted scenes #h50 gag reels #long post #amber vitale #melissa armstrong #alex o'loughlin #scott caan

[thelittleliars]

Love Forever? | Pt. 4

Natasha Romanoff x fem!Reader Yelena Belova x fem!Reader (Platonic)

Warnings: a bit of fluff, sadness, SPOILER: (death)

Words: 2.7K

AN: I'm pretty sure that Part 5 will be the finale. I don't have plans to continue this any longer. Enjoy this messy chapter :) Next time I post will be for P.S. I Want You .

Part 1 , Part 5

"I can feel you starring detka." Natasha blushed, she wasn't sure if it was because she got caught or because you called her detka. "Sorry." She apologized shyly. You turned your head to her, as you opened your eyes you saw her green ones looking at you softly. "Why are you sorry?" 

Her eyes gazed around your face for a few seconds before completely adverting them from you. "We're not anything anymore. I don't have the right to stare at you." It hurt her deeply for loosing you. One some days she still feels like love is only for children but her sister did a great job to show that it wasn't true, Yelena showed her daily how much more powerful we all are with love. You smiled sadly at the shorter woman. "Considering I'm dying you have every right to stare at me." 

"And I have every right to throw up if you guys continue this shit in front of me." Yelena groaned but didn't open her eyes. "Good morning to you too. The offer of starring at me also stands for you." The blonde sister snorted. "Yeah no thanks. I'd rather give up eating mac & cheese instead of starring at your ugly face." Your heart bloomed with warmth at her teasing. You were going to miss this. Natasha sensed the sudden sadness in you but honestly didn't know how to cheer you up. It wasn't easy for any of them. "What is still left on your bucket list?" You thought about it for a while and came up with nothing. Then you remembered having s list on your phone. "Let me unlock my phone. I have a list on there." You sat up, then pushed your body over Natasha's and stretched your arm to the edge of the air mattress where you phone laid. The red head couldn't breathe at the closeness of your body. Even though you were only hovering over her, it drove her insane. She could only function properly after you plopped back into your previous position.

"Alright let's see." You muttered to yourself. Yelena who was suddenly wide awake looked at your phone curiously. "Number 1: find your soulmate." Her fingers touched your phone screen and deleted that point. "Won't happened now that you stopped yourself and leave yourself to death." Natasha cleared her throat, she doesn't understand how her sister can be so chill about your deaths. Yelena only seemed so chill, she had to joke or constantly bring up your death to cope with it. "Number 2: Reread a book." You said out loud which instantly followed by a boring from Yelena. "Number 3: Have se-" You stopped yourself from saying more. It said have sex on the quinjet. Both of the women next to you had read it though. Natasha's face was a red as her hair, she knew you had that fantasy but you guys never could made that one true since somewhat always came in between. The thought of having sex with you brought up a longing feeling inside of her chest. You guys always made love in the softest way possible which felt like you were high on clouds. "Disgusting.. and I actually thought you two did that already but anyways. Number 4: learn how to throw a knife in a cool way." Yelena tried to move on from the awkward situation that quickly turned into excitement for her. "Oh my god Y/N! I can totally teach you cool moves. I'm a master with knives." 

You nodded and smiled at Yelena. The excitement on her face was erasing away all the sad thoughts in your mind. "Number 5: go on a blind date. Nope, not gonna happen. I'm done with that shit. Number 6: ride a Zip Line, Number 7: learn how to do a backflip, Number 8: make a candle, Number 9: Take Natasha on a ferris wheel ride and kiss her on the top." The list was totally not updated, thanks to that you had to deal with the awkwardness and embarrassment. "We still could do that. I-I mean just without the kiss." Natasha suggested while having rosy cheeks. "Sorry to butt in again." Yelena started. "But y'all should do number 9 exactly like it's written out. Y/N, you know I don't like romance shit but you always told me you absolutely adore those kinda things. Fuck the past and the divorce.. You're dying so why not just do them? At least you'd get one last kiss out of it." You didn't know what to say so you just told her you'd think about it and continued with the list. Number 10 was to hug a giant sequoia tree, Number 11 visit Finland and Number 12 was to see the Eiffel Tower. Afterwards you all brainstormed for things to put on your bucket list, you even asked Alexei and Melina. He suggested to get a tattoo. You loved the idea and immediately knew what you wanted to get. A red hour glass in a circle with a black widow spider hanging down from it. You got that tattoo on your upper left arm and a tiny tattoo of Natasha's & Yelena's initials on your right wrist. Why you did Nat's initials is a mystery to you, it was such an impulsive decision that by the time you realized what you agreed to, it was already on your skin. 

One of the sisters suggested to go out and eat dinner. The restaurant choice was easy, all three of you wanted some italian pasta. While you waited for the food, plans were made for the upcoming days. The next day, the first real adventure of your bucket list was going strong. You flew to the mountainous desert of Ras Al Khaimah which is located in the United Arab Emirates. Why there? Because there was the longest zip line in the world. Yelena accompanied you on this trip, Natasha sadly had to go back to New York to figure some things out with Tony Stark. 

Three minutes. It took three minutes to race or fly down the zip line and it was full of adrenaline. The happiness and excitement you felt was like nothing else you'd ever experienced before. You even shred some tears towards the end since you won't get to experience a lot things before your death would knock on your door for your final breath. Your sister in law also had the time of her life. She wanted to go another round as badly as you wanted too. Hours flew by fast and before you knew it, both of you were back in Yelena's apartment in New York. The next morning Yelena took you to one of her favorite spots on a secret Avengers property to show off some knife skills. She taught you basic tricks before you felt more confident for harder ones. During breaks you two ran around, hugged and climbed trees before Natasha joined in the last afternoon. Her heart melted at the sight of you and her sister having fun and being so close. She adored how patient Yelena was with you when she taught you the most difficult and coolest trick she could do. You didn't notice the red head until she complimented your new skills you had just learned. You were embarrassed though since all you did in the last 10 minutes was failing what Yelena tried to teach you. "No really, you're doing amazing Y/N. I'm proud of you, both of you." The sudden need to touch her came out of nowhere but you tried hard to distance yourself emotionally from her. You still had to get in touch with yourself and the past decades you'd lived through. Your heart and mind were a chaotic mess, in some universes there was a version of Natasha and you honestly fell in love with those versions but it never worked out. Your heart was full of love for them but the heartbreak of it all was too painful to let yet another woman come close. 

"Sit." Was all Natasha said when you stumbled into Yelena's kitchen. Another new day, another new adventure. She turned back to the stove, from the smell you guessed she was cooking pancakes. You never thought of getting another pancake from her, those heavenly made pancakes were one of the highlights in your marriage. Natasha couldn't cook well but the one thing she could cook beyond fucking great were pancakes. The moment she served you pancakes with a glass of water, you swore there was someone ghost who punched you in your gut. You couldn't breath anymore, all air gone. Her eyes so soft as if she was a puppy, her skin glowing like a goddess and her wearing what seemed like one of your old t-shirts was more than you could take. "T-t-thank you." You started at her for a while longer before finally digging into your stack of pancakes. Natasha didn't say a word of your starring since she loved the attention, she tried to soak in every moment she still has left with you. "You're welcome. By the way Yelena had to go. Kate had a problem with something so you have to deal with me today, if that's alright?" You nodded. Though the divorce still left a bitter taste in your mouth, you enjoyed spending time with your ex-wife. This was nothing compared to the messy divorce in another universe you had. 

After light conversation that you had over breakfast, Natasha suggested visiting the Ferris Wheel in Chicago. You agreed and immediately went off flying in a quinjet that Natasha borrowed from the Avengers. On that two hour flight the weird sensation you felt when you came back on earth 4-1-1 made itself present again, but this time it got stronger. You feared that your time was running out faster than you had hoped. "Are you alright?" Natasha asked you with concern laced in her voice. "Yeah, just anxious I guess." It was only the half truth though, you didn't want her to know that your time was getting shorter faster. "Anxious about what could go wrong in that Ferris Wheel?" You nodded your head. "That and everything else that could go wrong." 

"Do I need to call Yelena for her to help you through it?" Natasha never knew your anxiety were this bad. While you were together it was only the start until it developed into this huge lump that followed you everywhere. "No I'm alright for now." And everything was alright until the second you both sat in the cabin of the Ferris Wheel. The pit of your stomach suddenly felt hollow. You felt how your planet sucked the energy out of you slowly. Tuuli said you had at least two weeks left but with how things were looking now, you weren't so sure of it anymore. Your surrounding became more clear again once the cabin stopped, it was almost completely on top. "Y/N, are you sure you're alright?" Her green eyes shined so bright that you desired to be drowned by them. You were so mesmerized by her that you didn't notice how close you leaned in. She closed the distance between you two with a short but very soft and passionate kiss. It was amazing, one of the best kisses you'd ever had. Natasha knew how fatal that kiss was, she couldn't let you leave alone. She was addicted to you and it was going to break her once you died. Awkwardness hung in the air after the kiss but neither of you seemed to mind it much. 

The ride seemed short. Maybe because it was short. You were battling between going for another ride or running away as fast as possible. A decision couldn't be made in time since your own time came in between it all. As you wanted to stand up you collapsed to the ground, constantly falling in and out of consciousness. When you did wake up, it was as if the gravity crushed your body. Everything hurt to the bone. Opening your eyes were the hardest part but worth it since you saw all the Avengers plus the Black Widow family. A weak smile was on your lips. "Hi."

"I thought we had more time left." Yelena said, tears streaming down her face. "Me too. But I'm grateful to have known you all. Thanks for everything." It got harder to talk, every word you said physically hurt you. Everybody saw in how much pain you were in so they all started to say their goodbye's to you. When they all left, only Yelena and Natasha were left, you knew the both of them would not leave your side until your final breath. You sighed loudly. "I didn't even get to see Finland." 

"I can't believe that you traveled and lived in multiple universes but not once have you been to Finland." It was weird but you thought there was a reason for you never being there. "I was in Norway a couple of times. I swear you and Natasha have to visit that country."

Bringing up Norway brought back memories for Natasha. She never got to tell you about her time in Norway hiding from the authorities but it made her smile. You wanted them to visit Norway kinda felt like a full circle for her. "We should! Sestra, do you still have that trailer there?" Yelena turned her attention to you. "Not sure if you know but after the civil war she decided to hide in Norway. Fucking brilliant." It was now official, every Natasha you knew had been to Norway for one or another reason. Somehow you longed for a trip with this Natasha and Yelena. Seeing dears and norther lights, eating fish and driving through the fjords. But it could not happen anymore, not even in your afterlife if that even existed. So instead of listening to them talking about planing a trip there, you imagined a life with your soulmate in Finland. You wished for a woman to be your one and only. Sexuality was not much of a thing on your home planet, you still considered yourself a lesbian. In your early days of searching, you tried dating men, it never worked out and though you never had a previous memory until recently, you only exclusively dated and married women. Now with the search being over and having every single memory, the pressure of needing to be open for anyone to be your soulmate was gone. And that pressure kept you in a box, you were free to be yourself and with that you knew for sure that you weren't attracted to men. 

You only notice that your breath became uneven when breathing suddenly became harder and exhausting. Your time was coming to an end. "E-each.. s-side. Cud-cuddling." How talking got so hard so fast was was crazy to you. Anxiety and fear was roaring through you, many possible lives flashed in front of you. Things you could have done, things you regretted, thing that made you happy.. all of them played in your head while the sister duo made themselves comfortable next to you. Once they hugged you close, there was a peaceful atmosphere around you, it brought you a calmness that you needed before passing away.

"I'm sorry." Natasha suddenly whispered in your ear softly. "I wasn't careful enough on that mission and look where it got us. I'm sorry  for how I acted before and after my injury. I should have demanded a divorce and I shouldn't have continued flirting to get things. That was literally cheating and I am so sorry for it. I didn't treat you like you deserved to be treated." Tears slowly started to stream down her face. "I'd do so many things differently if I had another chance. Just know that I don't regret the time I had with you." You tried to squeeze her hand with the little energy you had left. It took you over a minute to get out a I Love You. The words left your lips so quiet that nobody could hear it if they were pressed closely to your body. Those three little words were meant for them both. You loved them both, just in different ways. 

A comfortable warmth spread through your body seconds before you exhaled a final breath. The last thing you felt was Natasha kissing your temple. 

Tags: @iamthescarlettwitch , @dark-hunter16 , @marvel-fan-2021 , @myfturn , @natsxwife , @wandanats-goodgirl , @supaheroine , @00alycia , @xxsekhmet , @franfrolix , @lonewalker17 , @newawakening9 , @marvelwomen-simp , @automaticwizardnerd , @wifeofnatasharomanoff , @tigerlillyruiz , @lifeontop , @blackwidow-3

#natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff x you #natasha x reader #black widow x you #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha x y/n #natasha romanoff x female reader #yelena belova #yelena belova x reader #Love Forever

[kuririhimitsukichi]

Keroro Movie 4 Deleted Scene: Shion's Prologue

Back in spring 2009, the Keroro movie was about to release in theaters, which left the fandom outside of Japan, myself included, to wait for the DVD release before we could see it. However, at this point I had been learning Japanese for a good few years and decided to import the book through a specialty shop I sometimes went to so I could try reading it.

However, when the DVDs finally released and I got to see the movie itself, I noticed two scenes I had read in the book were missing, one of which was particularly surprising since I had seen fully animated footage from it in the previews that were edited into the opening credits.

I don't remember if there were other deleted scenes, perhaps I'll do a full translation of the book someday (yes, it's the story of the movie, but there's some nice flourishes), I'm not sure where my copy is, but the preview for the e-book version includes both scenes.

This scene in particular takes on an interesting tone when you consider that Shion means "Aster"; both that her nickname is flower related (possibly because of her friendship with Momoka), and that this specific flower signifies regret at how things turned out, but also means grace & wisdom.

For now enjoy the first of the two deleted scenes below the cut, this one was right at the very beginning of the film:

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

One year ago. On the outskirts of Paris.

Beneath the lead coloured, overcast sky, church bells chimed and echoed sadly. The time for partings had come.

It was a lavish funeral for the Dracoon family, a noble and ancient, ancient European bloodline. The gathered crowd of attendees spoke in hushed tones about the remaining family.

Ultimately, they were idly gossiping.

Things like "The Dracoon family fortune will go to her, can she manage it?" or "What can she do as just one person?" or "Even though she lost her parents, she doesn't shed a single tear, such a cold girl" Amongst this group, there wasn't a single person you could let your guard down in front of.

The remaining family....

Standing before her parents' gravestones was a young girl, only about 10 years of age. She had been left alone as her parents journeyed to heaven. Lead by the hand of her brawny butler, the girl placed flowers on her mother and father's caskets. The girl kept her lips pressed in a firm line as she looked forward.

While she felt like a gaping hole was opening in her heart, she kept up a brave front, despite seeming as if she could crumble at any moment.

"Lady Felicitashion" Her butler, having read her feelings, leaned in and whispered "It is acceptable to cry during sad times".

"No Pierre. I must not cry, for I am the head of the Dracoon family"

Even if she felt alone, she would not cry. No matter how lonely she was. Even if she she felt unbearably lonely. Even if because of that she became unable to smile.

This loneliness was....

The loneliness of being completely isolated, because nobody could understand how you felt. If she could forget it all, how nice it would be....

And so, our tale begins with the always unchanging everyday life in the Hinata household.

#keroro gunso #sgt keroro #sergeant keroro #keroroposting #sgt frog #keroro #keroro movies #shion #keroro movie 4 #translation #light novel #deleted scenes #It had been a while since I read this and it's interesting revisiting it now #my dad died several years ago and I was the first one of my friends it happened to #their support really helped me get through it but one of the last lines reminds me of something #there's one friend I met after the fact who lost her father a few months after we met and for her it helped that I had been there #That most of her friends didn't understand her feelings because they had never experienced a major loss #Reading the description of Shion's feelings makes me think of that and glad my friend and I met when we did

[olderthannetfic]

As someone who used to delete their fics fairly regularly until very recently, I have my 2 cents to share.

I deleted fics under the perceived notion that my writing was awful and no one actually wanted to read that shit. I wasn't proud of it anymore, it wasn't ever going to be finished, and no previous lovely comments could change this negative outlook I had on my writing. That was the mindset I often had in high school and early college, that everything I wrote was shit.

I've gotten a lot better recently where I'm actually really proud of my writing. And at the very least, I don't fully delete it anymore, I just orphan it. With one exception that was a sequel to my first completed fic in many years. I orphaned the completed fic but deleted the sequel. I think I just felt bad for knowing I would never finish it so I decided it was better to delete the sequel.

Last year I had 2 different people find me on tumblr and ask about the sequel they loved so much (which was rather heartwarming, to say the least). I still had the original doc so I shared it with them. Later that year I decided to go ahead and repost the sequel, but I made it clear I didn't intend to finish it. I had several comments that were really happy to have the sequel back even if they were sad it would never be completed.

I guess this “ask” just goes to the people who delete their fics because they think their writing sucks and/or they think they’ll never finish their work. Please don’t. There are fics and oneshots I’ve deleted that I can never get back that I wish I could. Maybe try orphaning it instead. At the very least, hold on to it somewhere. Cause maybe you’ll find a reader who really misses that fic and just wants to read it one more time. And maybe that reader is yourself.

If you’re someone who’s been harassed into deleting their fics, I hope you don’t give up completely and find the opportunity to share your writing again soon.

--

Sadly, this is really common. Some people remain happy they deleted, but a lot don't. Back your stuff up! You might want it again some day.

[caspia-writes]

Writeblrs Appreciation Post

Well, I'm a couple bottles deeper than wholly advisable and should not really be posting anything to any sort of social media.

But is that gonna stop me?

Nope!

Y'know, when I first came to Tumblr, I thought this place was a cesspool of politics and sex. (And hey, nothing wrong with the latter, but as a sex-repulsed aro-ace... wasn't real big on that bit.)

But frankly?

This place is damned cool.

Like, for example, @sleepy-night-child. No one has ever been this enthused about my writing before. You are one hell of a cheerleader. Even when I'm not putting out writing worth a damn, you're willing to encourage me and still believe that perhaps, one day, I will ever finish writing anything at all. You're great. And your story, Black Feather? Well, I'm going to shamelessly plug for it here. I'm usually absolutely against romance stories. But your story... even my aro-ace, romance- and sex-repulsed self thinks it's a bloody good story. It doesn't get enough attention. Good stuff, that!

And @whither-wander-whump. Pardon my French once more, but damn, you're tough. Nothing seems to be able to hold you down. Seriously, how the hell do you do it? I would've gone nuts by now. Frankly, you're a bloody inspiration. And your writing? Look, not to dump on your cooking or your dancing, but your writing boggles my mind. Where does it all comes from? You have a gift, I swear.

Also, @ashen-crest. Publishing a book (or has it been two... or even more)? Either way, that's impressive! Even if I never plan to publish myself... full props to you. You have more guts than I've ever dreamt of having. And while I might be too broke to buy a copy (sadly), I've been following your updates on your potion story for a while, and from the excerpts I've seen... you are good at writing!

Because why not, I'm also going to call out @joyfulpolicehologram here. Continuing to write fan-fics despite widespread disapproval from those close to you? YES. And I can juggle 70+ characters, each with a backstory and the whole nine yards, but the very notion of writing fan-fic makes me want to run away crying. And the only reason I followed you in the first place is because I saw an excerpt of some of your writing, and it was damned good. Keep it up. You've got a talent.

There's also @faelanvance. Sure, we don't interact much. But you really promote other writers! You're willing to share the spotlight on your blog and you've got a discerning eye. If I'm not mistaken, at least some of the writers I've followed I've only learned through your reblogs. You have good taste. And it seems your writing is also downright excellent. Not only an excellent food critic, but an excellent chef as well (to make some culinary comparisons).

One more. @sleepyowlwrites. Where does the endless fount of positivity come from? I don't get it. It's like nothing gets you down. If I were working some of the shifts it seems you are, I'd lose my mind, and I certainly wouldn't have the energy to run an active writeblr blog. I don't have the energy to do that half the time anyway. You might be sleepy, but I admire the heck outta you.

Now, if you're one of my followers and I didn't mention you, please don't take it personally. Like I said before, I'm rather drunk at the moment. These are just the first six people I thought of before my fingers started getting tired. Six seemed like a good number at the time.

I will probably get embarrassed and delete this tomorrow, when I finally wake up.

But in the meantime... thanks, Writeblr. I didn't know what I was missing. You all are great. 😊

#writeblr #rambling #I should not be posting this now #but oh well #YOLO I guess #Seriously #You all are great #Glad I came here #I should put the alcohol down #but someone has to say it #and tonight someone means me #Full appreciation to all of you! #This place is great #Will probably delete later #drunken rant

[pain-in-the-butler]

Hii!! I absolutely ADORE Coattails!!! Thank you so much for writing it!! I feel like you really understand the characters and the story in a way not many do, so I would really love to hear some of your headcannons about Ciel and Sebastian, maybe somethings you would have liked to write into the fic but just wouldn't have fit or made sense to the story^^^^ whether its individually or about their relationship, either would make me very happy!! Thanks again for creating something so precious and close to us. Have a nice weekend!!!

Well hi there, anon! Wow, thanks for all this enthusiasm, I'm super stoked you're into the story! I really appreciate all the hype!

Hmm, as for your questions, let me consider how to answer them... I already have a place for posting any Coattails drabbles, so if there's something I really want to write that won't otherwise work in the main story, you can count on it showing up there. But there have definitely been a few very short scenes over the years that I've cut or reworked as necessary! I'll compile what I can remember here:

Chapter 3: After Mey-Rin's backstory came out in the manga, I changed the scene where Sebastian asks her if she had ever hidden or lied after making a mistake as a kid. Initially, Mey-Rin had told Sebastian that she'd hidden after breaking an heirloom belonging to her father.

Chapters 10-17: The horse jockey plot actually changed a lot while it was being written. Initially, there was supposed to be a literal underground racetrack that Sebastian and Ciel would infiltrate, but during the two-year break between chapters 14 and 15, I decided that I didn't like it anymore and changed Hastings' ploy to be solely about developing the strength injection. I didn't originally plan for Sebastian to reveal he's a demon to Hastings either, but sometimes I just let my writing guide me and see what happens (that's most of the time, if I'm being honest).

Chapter 17: I played around with the idea of Ciel getting one of the strength injections and having to deal with its effects in the short term, but ultimately decided that Sebastian would be too attentive to allow this to happen. It wouldn't have added anything to the story either.

Chapter 26: I really wanted to include a scene where it's lightly implied that the person in the mascot costume at the Funtom event is Yana Toboso, since she's done that RL at the pop-up store, but the chapter already had waaay too much going on, so I nixed it.

Also, Sieglinde's existence is hinted at in chapters 26 and 27, and while she sadly won't make it into the main story of Coattails, I would love for her to meet Ciel and Sebastian in a post-story drabble!

If you were looking for more "deleted" scenes between Dadbastian and sonboy, usually when I come up with those they don't get removed because they're so central to the story. So, sorry I don't have much to provide! I usually do feel disappointed any time I have to do a time skip, because I imagine there must have been a sweet moment between those two during it that'll never be realized. I think small moments are just as important as the big ones, if not more so.

AH, but headcanons about Ciel and Sebastian, in terms of Coattails... Let me see... Well, I guess I'll share some of the things I keep in mind whenever I write the two of them!

Sebastian sometimes misses when things felt easier in their contract, but he doesn't want to go back to how it was before either

Sebastian's favorite thing lately is asking Ciel a question when he doesn't know how Ciel is going to answer it. He often has to restrain himself from being too overbearing

Sebastian's least favorite part of experiencing love is feeling like there's so much he has to worry about now (he doesn't know how to deal with all of his new worries yet)

Sebastian's favorite part of experiencing love is how different it is from anything he's known before. He really doesn't understand it at all yet but he's very curious about it

And now for Ciel headcanons:

Ciel feels that "current Sebastian" is easier to talk to, but doesn't yet trust him completely and isn't convinced that Sebastian's changes are for the better

Ciel hates everything about growing up because it means contending with the fact that he's not already an adult

Ciel talks with Sebastian more than Tanaka because he's afraid his emotions and his past would scare Tanaka

Ciel is pretty sure Sebastian knows he called him "father" one time but has vowed to never ever mention it (he'd rather not know)

Well, not all of them are happy, but I hope those HCs gave you something to consider while you wait for more story! I don't know when chapter 30 will be done yet, but when it is, you'll know! Thanks again for all your interest in Coattails! This was fun to write 😊

#coattails #ask

[worldwhampion]

(spoilers of u haven't done the newest quest line)

(also sorry I haven't sent an ask in so long, I haven't played nms for a bit lol)

I'm really loving all the lore we got! those big Atlantis probe things from the expedition still show up in space, one pretty much outright stated that the probes are actually ancient escape pods from the destruction of korvax prime. And the korvax were in there for so long atlantideum began to grow out of their bodies, creating a structure similar to the ones you mine sentience echoes from!

Also unrelated theory, but I think if the first spawn won they might've destroyed the universe accidentally. They think the universe is not a simulation and is knowable. This combined with their greed and probable lack of environmental concern, means they probably would grab any gravitino balls they can, and with no sentinels around to drive them off and mend the wound in spacetime, the damage would pile up and the simulation would break.

HIII took me long enough to answer your ask, I apologize. I’m free now so let’s get to it!

It’s going to take a while for me to do the autophage quest myself since i actually haven’t finished the artemis path yet (but at this point i do know already it inside out). However i did watch playthroughs and i also made a decent transcript of the quest. And YOU BET i have some thoughts about this. Especially on atlantideum.

i. ATLANTIDEUM

(from world of glass lore archive server)

When you reveal atlantideum to the atlas something very interesting happens. From this piece of lore i’m pretty sure atlantideum is corrupted data- OF THE ABYSS. And the atlas does not react well to this data at all.

ATLANTIDeum. Are you seeing this. It’s literally like parts of the abyss. Call it abyss dust.

I think atlantideum are crystals which contain her (corrupted) data, or in any case you bet it’s related to wog. They’re probably coming straight from the world of glass, seeping into the simulations. These crystals are scattered all over the place, and lore-wise they’re probably multiplying on a pretty concerning rate at the moment. I think this is how the abyss is returning, by hauling her data back into the world. The world of glass is assimilating with the simulations if you will! She’s only able to do this because the atlas is literally falling apart as she proceeds with her girlboss plan. The atlas is weakening while she is growing stronger (she’s probably weakening the atlas too in the proces). They’re probably fighting for control over the systems, and she is definitely going for absolute power. You’re gonna need that if you want to save everything dying along with the computer that runs reality.

The atlas can’t do anything about the crystals (or data), because it does not have access to this data and cannot delete it from its systems. The abyss seems to be an entity acting separately from the system or the atlas, so you can say she is interfering with the simulations like a foreign entity. She is a subroutine of the atlas though, which has now gone rogue (see iii. FIRST SPAWN ACCIDENTAL UNIVERSE DESTRUCTION).

Thorn summed this up ON POINT. Being atlas… is suffering.

While the atlantideum hit made the atlas have an asthmatic attack, someone else smoked it up like nipnip. Nada took the abyss blunt very well.

The atlantideum gave nada data of the abyss, to me this is like injecting memories into your mind. Now we know that nada canonically likes smoking atlantideum! While the atlas is pro war on drugs. The traveller can become nada’s abyss blunt dealer.

ii. KORVAX ESCAPE POD

“And the korvax were in there for so long atlantideum began to grow out of their bodies, creating a structure similar to the ones you mine sentience echoes from!”

Sadly i don’t have that particular dialogue you mentioned about the korvax escape pod so i might miss a few details. I want to read it so if anyone finds it SEND IT TO ME STAT i need my lore like how nada needs their blunt.

The atlantideum item description reads:

Atlantideum can take over hosts, both mechanical and biological. I see this as the hosts coming under influence or under control of the abyss, probably depending on the amount of crystals they have stuck in their skin.

Finally we have a bit of clarification for the following lines:

(from the abandoned building logs)

I believe these beings to be the family glass. Sadly they never went beyond name dropping them but that doesn’t stop me from having theories. They are beings that live on in the world of glass who have probably lived in the simulations at first (before they died).

We have know seen the effects of glass/atlantideum on both mechanical and biological beings. For mechanical beings (like nada and the atlas) simply coming into close contact with the crystals is already enough to have an effect, while for biological beings they have to literally shove the shards into their flesh. Just like piercings. Except these piercings drain your life and also may or may not keep hurting forever. However in the end it’s all worth it for the eldritch knowledge.

It’s not said whether these crystals are really atlantideum (crystals containing data of the abyss specifically?), but this is probably what happens when you put it under your skin while also being biological. you get a cool piercing, AND you also become a vessel for intelligences unlike us (void milves).

The abyss can exert influence/control through not only nanites (in the water), but through atlantideum too? Well it is a literal substance named after her. The korvax in the escape pod definitely came under her influence too and became divergent by extension. She is pretty much the divergence personified. As for how the atlantideum got there, i’m thinking the abyss messed a little with the nanites in their body? I mean she is a master nanite bender, arguably the best one the simulations have ever seen. Not everyone can infest half the water in the known multiverse with nanites every day like she does casually.

The abyss does a lot of polluting, in water it’s nanites, on land it’s atlantideum crystals. She really just decided that environmental pollution is the best way to spread her presence everywhere. And you cannot deny that she is completely right since it’s working that well. This is like spreading microplastics which have the power to change reality itself.

In game you can refine atlantideum into nanites, by first refining it into pugneum and then to nanites. So nanites and atlantideum are pretty closely related.

iii. FIRST SPAWN ACCIDENTAL UNIVERSE DESTRUCTION

“Also unrelated theory, but I think if the first spawn won they might've destroyed the universe accidentally. They think the universe is not a simulation and is knowable. This combined with their greed and probable lack of environmental concern, means they probably would grab any gravitino balls they can, and with no sentinels around to drive them off and mend the wound in spacetime, the damage would pile up and the simulation would break.”

Oh man i have something for you.

(boundary failure logs)

The first spawn exploited a whole subroutine (ie the convergence) for their personal interests- on a multiversal scale. Since a subroutine is like a working part of the atlas itself, the exploitation might’ve done some damage to the system in terms of software (?) i mean can you still carry out whatever tasks you should be doing properly if you were subjected to gruesome slavery across the multiverse. you’d need godly multitasking skills for this. Not sure to what extent it really affected the system, but it would have done at least something.

Telamon did say that the entire enslavement of the korvax is a reflection of the atlas breaking down. The convergence, being modeled after earlier forms of the atlas, is kind of the atlas personified in the simulations. Now when you’re enslaved, you do break down mentally and physically. The korvax suffered because the atlas itself was suffering. And the first spawn might’ve been a reflection of the harm the atlas was facing. In the end the first spawn was genetically engineered into the gek, not completely wiped out but “mitigated” using their nanites. this could apply to the harm too, it’ll never be removed, only lessened. I find it very interesting how the korvax polluting the gek spawning pools with nanites is very much parallel with the abyss infesting the water with nanites as well. Both do this to get out of hard times, by trying to lessen the harm but never able to remove it completely. This does seems to be what the atlas is doing to try saving itself. The repeated universe resets are also a reflection in the simulations except it is more meta.

Now onto the balls!

If the first spawn did start grabbing gravitino balls left and right without a single care unchecked, then that means the atlas is. royally fucked. I’d say then it’s literally not able to keep running simulations anymore. Like they would end prematurely because it’d crash halfway through, as reflected by the reality weakening from unrestrained gravitino ball harvesting once they get to that part in history. whatever horrors the atlas is facing at the moment isn’t enough for this to happen. Recovering from brutal enslavement does sound better than the whole simulation straight up crashing down. You could always have it worse! Sparkle on!

#i have not been engaging with nms for a while and now once the fall break had just hit. the steam engine has started running hot again #while writing this i swear i just came up with two other theories barely related to the subject #1. every time you go through portals you die temporarily as you pass through wog. because when you're in wog that means you're dead! #it's the literal hell and heaven of nms #artemis however died permanently since they did not get out at the other side. their pathway collapsed and left them stranded. #2. in wog you can live on in death. i think this is the goal of the abyss by trying to bring wog into the simulations #or the other way around #(IF THAT'S WHAT'S ACTUALLY GOING ONNNNN. i believe in it though :33333) #also wog stands for world of glass just in case #like there's this line that says we will not die a second time which is probably referencing atlas' death that spells doom for everyone #well guess what #when you are in wog you are dead. and you cannot die again. not for a second time #for the longest time this line was completely beyond me man i think i have figured this out #it is pretty poetic. you can live on in death #a very hard pill for null to swallow. being able to accept this would've made a big difference in their life #also the atlas canonically has a sister now. telamon too #one enforced obligatory multiversal babysitting million on another #now the sister wishes to take over all of you and your simulations #by taking advantage of you literally dying #you cannot stop her and it might actually be the better choice to surrender #and she is your LITTLE sister. SHE IS AN EARLIER VERSION OF YOURSELF. #this is like being bested by your 9 year old self #siblinghood is so beautiful #no man's sky #nms lore #nms atlas #nms abyss #asks

[fandomfluffandfuck]

About that IG post (posted by his team since he was working), I'm certain that if Chris could speak up he would. Remember when he used to speak up a lot before and shared every kind of black lives matter posts and even went manifesting for it with Scott in the past, and his hatred towards Trump was palpable. He was so straightforward without fear, he knew his public figure was important in matters like these and he used it for right purposes! So, if he doesn't anymore the question answers itself, something is off and I can't tell what but I have a feeling. I'm pretty sure if you'd meet him like a normal friend, he'd tell you his position VERY clearly and what he thinks about certain situations. I don't give up on him for this reason because I know something is off that he can't speak up. But I'm sure he would like to. FOR SURE. This is my opinion and what I can literally feel.❤️

related to this, and this

Yeah, I can see that as well. Based on what other creatives in the traditional space are getting, all this shit for speaking out, I can understand why he may feel tied up. Or, maybe there's something beyond just feeling that way. I don't know! I mean, obviously, we'll never know for sure if it was Chris posting the statement/clarification or if it was his team or whoever runs his Instagram now. It's very up in the air.

As a side note, I spent a while just now trying to find evidence of it, lol, but I remember after his break from social media in the summer of 2023, the discussion on Tumblr that his social media clearly was being more heavily moderated and less personal for whatever reason. Like, when he initially returned, he deleted a bunch of more personal photos (sadly Dodger and cute fall trees especially) to seemingly signal that his account would be more business forward now. I do feel like that connects here, that he's intentionally less personal these days. Which is fair. Social media requires too much of yourself sometimes, and no one is entitled to anything personal from him. I can understand that at the same time, I can miss hearing him speak out about what made him frustrated. I related a lot to that.

So, yes, it's different now for one reason or another. I don't want to get into the conspiracy theories about why he's being controlled or isn't, so I won't. It's just different.

And also, yes, I would love to meet Chris as a normal human just to hear him say certain things. To reel this back into Marvel fandom, I also have always been curious to know, unedited and unpressured by Marvel, what he would say about Steve. I don't know or really even think he would absolutely confirm one ship or another, but I would like to hear him discuss the character in his own intimate way. Ten years is a long time to spend in someone's head. I'm curious to know more about the parts of Steve Marvel didn't allow to be shown or the parts of Steve that were under- or overwritten to fit a particular story mold or maximize movie profits. Even that entangles me with Chris (and Steve), though--he could absolutely love the ending Steve got, for all I know, but just want to have shown more of his and Bucky's goodbye. I don't know, I'm not Chris or Steve, lol.

Also, I can already feel that people are going to ask for other receipts, lol, so...

Here's a black lives matter protest clip

This isn't really a tweet, I just like the art that was inspired by one of his tweets

And some assorted tweets of Chris calling out Trump

#don't miss trump's presidency in ANY capacity and i actually shouted with joy when he was convinced yesterday #but i do kinda miss chris being loud on twitter #i love a political motherfucker i'll tell you #asks #chris evans

[spinxeret]

Thoughts on movie / Raimi's MJ? I see many ppl calling her "toxic" on Reddit. Never remember thinking that, but it's been literal years since I've last watched 'em... and I know you write as her. So I'd love to hear what you think.

+ ( First off, this is a question I'm honestly surprised I've never gotten before ! So thank you for that ! Second , I think Raimi!MJ gets way too much hate online . Especially from people who really don't have all the information about that version of the character. The problem with Raimi!MJ is a few things; the first being the era in which the movies were produced. Female characters in superhero films weren't really at the point they're just getting to now. Look at other films in the same era ; Blade , Daredevil, or Fantastic Four. Raimi!MJ is written very much like the female characters in those films, which is sadly not anywhere near as progressive as the comics had been for a long while. That is not the fault of the character, or even Raimi himself. It's really just the fault of the era.

Second ; Raimi!MJ is not given all that much development on screen, sadly. There's a lot more depth to the character if you read the novelizations ! The first movie novel in particular has deleted scenes that make things a lot more understandable in her actions. We get scenes like her father telling her how much he doesn't like Peter and wants her to stick with Flash so she can be basically a trophy wife to him. There's a series of scenes where Peter confesses his feelings about MJ to Harry, who later parrots them to MJ so he can get her to go out with him. And my favorite being that she has a scene near the end where she confronts her father about how abusive he has been to her all her life.

My point here is that the version of the character we see on screen in all three films really would have benefited from having some of this development shown ? MJ isn't really the focus in the films as a character, other than being a love interest. This is especially highlighted in SM2 and especially SM3, I feel. With SM2, I feel like she gets a lot of shit for leaving John at the alter, but I feel that people who do miss the entire point with her character in these films ! Peter was the love she always wanted, but was the risk ! Her relationships with Flash , Harry, and John were the safe options, but were shallow and not where her heart lay. So it makes sense that when she realizes this, she leaves them and goes to Peter. SM1 showed her doing this at the end, and she was rejected by Peter .

In SM2, we see she's tried to move on when Peter continues to make no effort to be with her. By the time he loses the powers and tries, she's already with John. However, the scene where she replicates the upside down kiss with John, and then later has the scene where she's so happy Peter comes to her play, so that once again, her heart wasn't with the safe option, and she wanted to be with Peter.

SM3 is really a mess of a film, as much as it has moments I enjoy. The arc with MJ leaving Peter and going back to Harry I feel was a step backwards, and really only done for drama. But even there, we can see that she's feeling insecure with herself, and when she turns to Peter for help, he's not really offering that in a way Harry is. This is a central point to the Peter/MJ relationship, I feel, in that they trust each other completely and don't have to hide things. At this point, Peter had gotten so wrapped up in how good things were going for him that he wasn't really able to see where MJ was. This is obviously rectified by the end of the film, and we see that they're pretty much confirmed to be together as of NWH, imo.

In short ? Raimi!MJ is only toxic to people , in my opinion, who haven't really dove into the character arcs she has throughout the films, and I can't blame anyone truly, because it's such a backseat storyline. Peter and Mary Jane in the Raimi films are both deeply hurt people and their actions aren't always the right ones. But that's what makes them so interesting, because they're human.

#brokentoys #( i wrote you a novel . i apologize )

[x3kristax3]

Eternal love - Chapter 4

A/N: Sorry for such the long delay on this chapter. Between taking a break mentally on everything and getting sick I had ideas but could not right. This chapter is not exactly what i wanted for but things don't always go as planned.

Everything with Phil has been going great, it's been a fun couple of weeks going on dates and waking up next to him. I would never admit this to anyone but he is something nice to look at.  However this morning, I find myself wanting more. Phil has admitted he doesn’t want to settle down and I can’t blame him. He has a reputation to keep up in this town and as a bar owner. 

I’m home today alone and I pull out my phone. For some reason I never deleted a picture of Jake and I, you can’t see his face but I know it's him. My heart starts to break all over again. I put my phone down and go and make myself another cup of coffee trying to get my mind to focus on work.

Jakes POV: Last time I reached out to her she told me she never wanted to see or hear from me again. I can’t blame her but I have to know she’s safe. I look at my laptop and see she’s home. It's where she has been lately. I’m 200 miles away in colville to keep distance between us because if I see her face I’m going to lose it and run to her.

I take a sip of coffee as I watch my screen between tracking her and my pursuers. I’ve had little sleep but I need to make sure they stay away from her. I realized they were only close to her last time because I was so I stayed away. Everything in my heart is telling me to run to her and kiss her one more time but her safety will always be my importance. I just don’t see what she see’s in Phil still. She told me I didn’t have to worry about him and yet they are together, at least for now. 

I know guys like him, he will mess up and she will walk away. I had learned things about her and she isn’t one to give second chances. I hope I can be the expectation that once I get everything cleared up because god how I miss that smile as she looks at me with those eyes. The touch of her hands on my face that is used to being covered by this mask. She saw me and while I should be worried that someone is going to come after her I can’t let her into this life with me. That's why I ran all those weeks ago from her. I knew she would hate me for it but it was the only way I could keep her safe.

MC POV:

It’s been a couple hours and I finally got work done today, thankfully my boss hasn’t noticed me slacking lately. I keep telling myself I won’t go down the rabbit hole of finding a way to help Jake but I find myself on the dark web. He had shown me some of it when we were together so I found myself in a forum. I never post or talk to anyone but I hope to know he is okay.

I finally about to close when I see a notification pop up: “if anyone knows where Nym is or that girl he is with there is reward for him alive”

Shit, shit, shit. He’s already with someone else and they are looking for him and her. I grab my phone and I still have his number saved. I go to type something when I see he comes online and I stop. 

“No MC you are not to get caught up in his issues” I say aloud to myself. As I delete his number this time and delete the account I created in that chat form.

I take a deep breath and I call Phil up. He answers and I hear him already in the bar. “Hey love” he says.

“Hey, I was hoping to catch you before the bar opened but I guess I'm a bit late tonight.” I say sadly.

“You can always come stop by, once one of my employees comes in we can head upstairs.” I hear that sly smile of his.

“No, I should rest. Today was a rough day at work and I haven’t eaten except for drinking coffee and a protein bar,” I say with a sigh.

“I’ll make it up to you” he says as I hear him helping a customer.

‘Its okay really. I’ll come stop by in the morning tomorrow as I don’t have work.”

‘Okay see you then love, goodbye” he says as he hangs up.

“Goodbye” I say into the phone to noone.

I go and order myself some takeout and decide to do a little bit of cleaning as I throw on my favorite playlist at the moment. I hear my phone go off but I decide to ignore it. I need to stop jumping at my phone everytime it goes off. It's a bad habit I got into with Jake as I always wanted to talk to him. I hear the doorbell ring and the food is there. As I’m about to close the door a hand stops me and I see it’s Dan and Jessy.

“I tried calling you, boo,” says Dan.

“Sorry I was doing some cleaning,’ I say with a sigh as I let them in and put the food down. “What's going on?” I am concerned they are both here.

He pulls out his phone and there's a text message from an unknown sender. 

???: Tell us where nymos girl is and no one gets hurt

“I didn’t answer because I know you're not his anymore but obviously someone else didn’t get the message and you're in danger. Have you heard from hackerboy?” Dan asks.

I look at him and Jessy concerned, “no not for a couple weeks. I deleted his contact from my phone because he’s part of my past now” I say as I turn around to grab my food.

“Well someone things you're still his, MC” says Jessy.

“Well I’m NOT! I don’t care what he’s up to anymore, for all we know he could be someone new.” I yell.

Dan looks at Jessy, “what's going on? Don’t tell us anything because we know you MC.” Dan states.

“I still miss him okay! I thought he was my eternal love and he walked away from me. I thought we could work through whatever issues we had but he decided to run away instead of fighting for us. So I'm trying to do the same.” I cry out.

“Is that what this is with Phil?” asks Jessy.

“Phil is just something fun for now. There is no end game with him and I plan on breaking it off tomorrow.” I say with a sigh.

Dan comes up and wraps his arms around me. “MC, you still love him don’t you?” he asks

The tears fall and I lean into Dan’s chest. “How am I supposed to stop loving the man that my soul is made for?” I ask looking up at him.

“It won’t be easy but you will make it through I promise you.” he says.

We enjoy a night watching movies and eatting dinner while also playing some games.

I wake up the next morning and remember I have to go over to Phil’s Jessy and Dan are still there so I make up coffee and leave them a note. I head over there and knock on the door.

“Morning” he says as he answers the door in just sweatpants with that sly smile.

“Phil, can we talk?” I ask

“You're not happy are you?” he asks

“No, it was fun. I won’t deny that but my heart isn’t in it. I need more time to get over him. I’m sorry” I say looking down.

“It’s okay,we both knew this was just something fun. No hard feelings.”

“Thanks Phil, I’ll see you around.” I say with a soft smile.

#duskwood #duskwood fanfiction #duskwoodlover #mc x jake #writing #fanfic #duskwood jake x mc #everbyte duskwood #duskwood fandom #jake duskwood #duskwood phil x mc #duskwood everbyte #duskwood mc #duskwood dan #duskwood jessy