#also why Michael looked so smug afterward

[ingravinoveritas]

Aziraphale’s bow tie on the floor in the new poster and a flashback to this day of filming, which I’d like to remind everyone was on Valentine’s Day...

[ourtubahero-blog]

Getting strong Michael vibes from this look, and a certain Brokeback Mountain vibe.

[blackstarchanx3new]

Creations AU, But I obnoxiously over explain it PT 10

Pages 271-300

Mike you're making your hatred obvious tone it down.

Also, oh.

Afton's got a blood issue??? X'D

What a trait for a serial killer...Hmmmm.

I didn't mention it before but since it's brought up here:

Afton is covered in scars. Yeah those things on his face aren't wrinkles they're scars.

Same with his hands and neck. Everywhere that's exposed to us is covered in scars. We can only imagine what's covered.

I drew him goofy here but I was also struggling to draw this scene hah.

We know William lives like, right next to Freddy's so it makes sense he'd go here to look for help lmfao.

Hah takes a depressed person to know one eh Mike?

Hah. William's sus of you uh oh.

Guess stalking people is an Afton family tradition.

William rolling his chair over to bump Mike's is smth I just find funny. And Rude.

Also that Ennard incident is brought up hah.

Mike says what I would have pointed out.

William's always watching.

HAH.

HE FOUND YOU OUT.

NOT THE THING YOU WERE WORRIED HE'D FIND OUT BUT HE FOUND YOU OUT.

Again: Takes one to know one. Afton and Mike got a lot in common in the spotting depressed suicidal people skill.

William just dumped a bunch of shit the audience didn't know.

What's more disturbing is he dug this shit up on Mike. Presumably because Mike's close with his son now.

So apparently EVERYONE knows now William assumes Mike is suicidal. That's...NICE of him to warn everyone? I guess. Wonder who "everyone" is...The robots? The workers? When were they informed? He didn't recognize Mike before the night he spent the night so presumably afterward he watched the cameras and looked into Mike's past.

Or he was doing a bit of trolling.

Also: Mike mentioned his mother. She's got dementia and attacked Mike. Makes sense why he's not living with her despite needing help with his living.

Conformation: Jeremy was Mike's husband, so he's living with Jeremy's sister.

Wonder what William feels knowing one of his murder victim's family members is here... We don't get much insight into that for now.

This little convo only furthers Mike's rage considering Afton is basically spitting right in his face by bringing up Jeremy at all.

Also William only cares because Michael is Mike's friend now.

Ouch. It isn't out of direct concern as we saw William act uncomfortable around Mike just because he had an illness.

William tries to deter Mike from dying here through, persuasion, Freddy's is a personal hell, which is a sentiment Cody also repeated funny enough.

William is very selfish lmfao.

Mike's stance is clear: He just wants to take Afton down with him.

Also. Hell of a question coming from you Afton considering you turned his husband into a ghost.

Why do you aaaaaask?

Hehehe.

Pff. Afton sure is a character alright.

Your mind tricks won't work on Mike Mr. Afton.

He's such a smug bitch about it.

But this does bring up a lot: WHY THE FUCK CAN HE DO THAT???

I'm sure this isn't important-

He really had to fuck with Mike first before showing THAT off.

Because Afton's a cheeky bastard.

Also backstory: Afton's gift made him an outcast. Hmmm...

DAMN MIKE OKAY EXCALATION MUCH???

Just a reminder he's still carrying that knife around. To kill Afton with.

And if you're wondering what EXACTLY he's waiting for: Confromation.

He's judge jury and executioner in this situation.

Mike's waiting until he's fully convinced it's Afton. As we've seen he has SOME reasons to think there's more things going on here.

CHICA! :D

Excalibur face because Soul Eater's influence has to show itself in all my work lmfao.

OH.

OH MY.

in the script Mike's expression direction was literally just this emoji:

😳

Freddy switches immediately upon seeing Mike lmfao. He's STILL salty about him slamming the door. XD

Also- HAHAHAHHAHAHHA Freddy and Bonnie are fuck buddies-

Freddy has zero patience for Mike.

The oddly specific threat of "Or I will kick you like a football" is just funny to me. Like why a football specifically Freddy??? XD

Mike pivots and decides talking to Freddy for now is a good idea.

Quick thinking from our boy.

Freddy no-

He just has to rub in that him and Bonnie are doing shit.

Apparently Freddy thinks this place is "Boring" which is amusing to think about like...He's literally the most interesting thing in this place in his narcissistic head. I love Freddy.

Yes this is a refence to Freddy hiding in the lady's restroom in FNAF 1.

Freddy is possessed by a woman. And he's AWARE of that.

He's still alright being called "Freddy" and "He/Him" so you can take that however you want.

If you want a label for what Creation's Freddy's gender identity is: The closest I can like, describe would be nonbinary/genderfluid.

I've been brainstorming the backstory for the character who possesses him...And I'm not entirely sure if she was APOSED to being a male animatronic.

Any pronouns work for Freddy is what I'm getting at.

I mostly call his ghost by She/Her but call Freddy himself He/Him. Because Freddy isn't a 1 to 1 with the person he was before he became an animatronic as are MOST of the animatronics.

But the notion ALL the animatronics are some kind of trans metaphor can get REAL MESSY considering a lot of them were...FORCED into this. So let's not go there is what I'm trying to say that was NOT the intent with them.

This metaphor would really only work for like MAYBE 2 characters in Creations and not be PROBLEMATIC to say the least..

Freddy being one of them since again: I think the woman who possesses him WANTED to be Freddy because he's the star. XD

Also there's a cannon trans character in this comic that has no metaphors attached soooo...Idk.

Gender and sex and sexual orientation are touched on a LOT in this comic cause: Holy shit when you half hazardly shove random souls together into suits gender don't always binary lmfao. Also I relate to not having a strict "Girl" or "Boy" vibe and I write what's relatable to me.

SO: If you wanna view Freddy as trans you're perfectly fine to do so. Freddy's case is WEIRD so I'm really open to whatever you want with him. If you relate to Freddy in a trans way I'm not gonna take that from you. X'D He's very gender.

Anyway going away from Freddy's gender for a second:

There's a hanging corpse in the men's bathroom. Spooky.

Freddy describes it in detail so I don't have too lmfao disturbing.

I do have a comic idea for showing how it ended up there...but I'll refuse giving spoilers for now. It'd be the "Into the pit comic" for future reference.

Freddy got traumatized from using the men's bathroom. Poor dude.

Obligatory "Mike is a freak" joke. X'D Poor Mike.

The funniest thing: Unlike Cody Freddy wasn't THERE for that convo...Meaning Bonnie has told Freddy in private he thinks Mike's a freak lmfao.

Casual shit talking your bud oof.

There's 3 bathrooms lol.

My favorite genders.

Chica, Bonnie and MANGLE-

Freddy's a wuss and it's funny.

"I don't think he can get you if he's dead..."

MIKE YOU OF ALL FUCKING PEOPLE KNOW HOW STUPID YOU SOUND RN.

Poor Freddy.

Mike can't see shit though which interesting.

Mike isn't exactly spiritually inclined it seems. Which just makes Cody's fuckery even funnier.

Page limits prevent the rest of this scene so Creations will return.

[tenebraevesper]

Five Nights at Freddy's: Nothing Remains, Night 18: Follow Me

''He's been waiting, abandoned and patient, so long (long). A savage masked ghost story from the past he roams (roams). He said: ''Follow me''. Follow, follow, follow… Over 30 years ago, when he took them down below, and tonight he walks again, so step inside enjoy the show. Follow me! Then you'll see! Follow, follow, follow, follow, but the truth is hard to swallow. Follow me! Then you'll see! Follow, follow, follow, follow, follow… Follow me, see a nightmare in action!''

 – Follow Me by TryHardNinja (Five Nights at Freddy's 3)

xXxXxXx

The children absolutely loved him, always cheering when he approached them and started to interact with them. He would sing, dance and play with them, enjoying seeing them being so happy. His purpose was to spread joy and he was taking his role seriously. He would always make sure that the children would smile whenever he was around. And then… And then…

Static had overwhelmed him, covering his vision, with an error message appearing in the bottom corner. He found himself walking down a dark, narrow hallway, stepping closer and closer to the office. Something felt incredibly wrong about this, as he had never been here before. It felt like a distant memory, but that was impossible. This place, while it may have existed in the past, was long gone at this point. He knew that he wasn't supposed to be here, but he had to wonder – how was this possible and why was he remembering this?

He looked up, realizing that he wasn't looking at the office anymore, but at the back room. It wasn't a human who was standing there, observing him, but a golden and green bunny with purple glowing eyes. He knew this bunny, and he was aware that he wasn't any of his friends.

He just smiled at him, recalling the memory again. This wasn't the first time they had met.

xXx

An icy feeling spread through his chest. Springtrap shivered, not sure why he was feeling like this. He wasn't feeling cold or anything like that, but there was a sense of dread and anticipation. While he could easily shrug it off as nothing, he knew better. The issue here was what happened that afternoon at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza and, while it was brief, it was rather unsettling.

While Sam had been kept busy by an employee complaining about Puppet acting weird, Springtrap had kept an eye on Freddy as he interacted with a few children, but he wasn't paying that much attention to the bear animatronic. He was still thinking about his conversation with Sammy, grateful that his son decided to confront him and talk to him, but at the same time feeling guilt and regret that he hadn't done more for him. Sammy, and Michael and Elizabeth had suffered horribly because of him and now, it was too late for him to do anything. A mere apology couldn't give them their lives back.

As he looked up, still lost in his thoughts, he saw Freddy staring at him. It wasn't the kind-hearted, joyful look Freddy usually had when interacting with children. Instead, he was giving him a cold stare, his blue eyes flaring up. Then, the glow in his eyes faded and Freddy gave him a smug look. Springtrap was stunned, watching Freddy as he continued interacting with the children as if nothing had happened.

He still had no explanation for this and it was just another thing he had to add to his ''Problems I Need To Deal With'' list. Aside from his family and the animatronics, he also knew that he needed to figure out a plan how to find Connor, but that was easier said than done. While he and Sam had figured that Connor wasn't probably in the mindset to make rational decisions, they hoped that he would make a mistake that would reveal his location. As for what would happen afterwards... Springtrap shook his head.

You should think about this later. Now, the most important thing is Sam's birthday.

Aside from knowing that the birthday lunch would take place at Freddy's, he wasn't really sure what exactly Emma had planned to do afterwards. He had figured that she would just let Sam do whatever she wanted, whether it was socializing with her parents or playing games at the arcades. It was her day, after all, and she would be the one to decide how to spend it. He just hoped that nothing would ruin it.

xXx

Sam felt a knot in her stomach as she dressed up. Even though she was now officially seventeen, she didn't feel as if she had changed much, aside from becoming one year older. She was curious about what her mother had in store for her today and figured that she should simply focus on having fun. Exiting her room, she walked over to Springtrap's room and peeked inside, noticing him giving her a cheerful look.

''Happy birthday, Sam,'' he said as she walked inside.

''Thanks,'' Sam replied, smiling sheepishly. ''I suppose Mum told you why I haven't told you that my birthday would be today.''

''Yeah, she did. She also threatened me, in case I decide to do something stupid,'' Springtrap replied in a nonchalant tone. He then crossed his arms on his back, his ears lowering. ''Anyways, I apologize for not having any gift for you…''

''Hey, the fact that I have a friend I can rely on is good enough for me,'' Sam told him. ''It's the best gift you could give me.''

''I guess that Emma anticipated that answer when she told me that she doubted that you would want me to give you a gift for your birthday,'' Springtrap muttered, with Sam smiling.

''Well, she is right,'' Sam replied.

''Of course I'm right. What else did you expect?'' The two turned around, only to see Emma leaned against the doorway. She then walked towards Sam, holding something small behind her back. ''Happy birthday, Sam!''

''Thanks, Mum,'' Sam replied, with Emma hugging her daughter and giving her a small, cream-coloured box with a silver bow on it. ''What's that?''

''Frankly, I wasn't really sure what to get you, as I wanted it to be something you'll find useful, but I think I made the right decision with this one,'' Emma explained as Sam opened the box. Her jaw dropped.

''Mum, this is so awesome! Thank you!'' she exclaimed as she pulled out a silver heart-shaped locket. The top of the locket was engraved to look like as if angelic wings were forming the heart, with a purple gem encrusted in the middle. As Sam opened it, she noticed that she could insert photos into both sides of the locket. ''I love it!''

''I'm glad that you like it. I have an additional surprise for you…'' She then frowned, glancing at Springtrap. ''That is, unless Afton had told you about it.''

''Trust me, I didn't,'' Springtrap replied, crossing his arms and staring at Emma. Sam just tilted her head and then focused on placing the locket around her neck.

''He didn't tell me anything,'' she said, clipping the silver chain and adjusting the locket. ''Besides, even if I knew what this surprise is, I wouldn't care about it. I just want to enjoy my birthday for once instead of having to stress over it for no reason.''

''You're right,'' Emma said, nodding lightly. She sighed. ''I guess that I got a bit too worked up about this, especially since I didn't want it to be a disaster like the previous ones.''

''If you ask me, you did a great job organizing this one,'' Springtrap told Emma, who gave him a surprised look, obviously having not expected a compliment from him.

''Thanks,'' she said, albeit sounding a little reluctant.

''Also, could you two not argue today?'' Sam asked. ''I know that you love taking jabs at each other, but could you please agree on a truce, at least for today?''

Emma and Springtrap exchanged glances, knowing well that this wasn't exactly possible. While they knew that would quit arguing with each other for Sam's sake, not making sarcastic remarks about each other would be a bit more difficult.

''We'll try.''

''We can't promise anything.''

Emma and Springtrap said in unison, with Sam rolling her eyes, knowing well that it was just a matter of time before one decides to mess with the other. It was a habit none of them were really willing to give up on and, in a way, a sign that both were comfortable in each other's presence.

''Anyways, we are still waiting for Aaron to arrive,'' Emma said, looking at Sam. ''Once he's here, we'll show you what the surprise is.''

''Okay,'' Sam replied, with Emma exiting the room and going downstairs. She then glanced at Springtrap with a smug look on her expression. ''So, are we going somewhere?''

''You know that I cannot tell you anything,'' Springtrap replied.

''Then, we are indeed going somewhere,'' Sam said. Springtrap snorted, just shaking his head.

''You'll find out soon enough,'' he told her.

xXx

A few hours had passed, with Sam deciding to spend the time until her father's arrival by watching random YouTube videos. However, she couldn't focus much on the videos as something else was on her mind, something not related to her birthday.She glanced at Springtrap, who was sitting on her bed, leaned over and looking as if he was lost in his own thoughts.

''You know, I have noticed that I'm scheduled to work after hours today,'' Sam said, with Springtrap glancing at her. He remembered that Emma told him that she talked to Anthelm, who probably decided to give her that shift so Sam could spend most of her day celebrating her birthday. ''We could stay there a bit longer in order to see whether the Drawkills might stop by.''

''I agree that we should stay there for a while longer,'' Springtrap replied, albeit still looking a little absent-minded. ''It is worth a try to see whether we are going to encounter the Drawkills.''

''Okay, I just hope that…'' Sam trailed off as she heard the sound of a car outside. She quickly got up and rushed over to the window, looking outside, with Springtrap following her. She grinned. ''Dad!''

She then quickly ran out of her room, going downstairs. Springtrap didn't follow her, but instead went to his room, where he had a better view of the driveway. He noticed a man dressed in a red T-shirt and brown trousers exiting the car, with Sam running up to him and hugging him. The man hugged her back, excited to see her. As he let go of Sam, he brushed with fingers through his messy dark brown hair, pushing his sunglasses up, and gave her a boyish grin.

Springtrap calmly observed the family reunion, deciding not to introduce himself to Aaron Blackburn yet. He was actually waiting for the go-ahead from Emma, who too went outside, with Aaron greeting her. He seemed to be really happy to see her and even Emma looked quite relaxed in his presence. While Springtrap was glad for them, especially after seeing Sam being this excited about seeing her father, he couldn't help but feel strange about it.

In a way, this was the kind of family his own could've been, if it weren't for the fact that he was a remorseless monster who just wanted to satisfy his own selfish desires and didn't give a damn about his family. He then saw Sam rushing back inside the house, his ears lifting up as he heard her run past his room and into her own. However, a moment later, he heard her running back downstairs, now carrying a black bag and entering Aaron's car. He felt a knot in his stomach as he observed the two driving away and went downstairs, encountering Emma.

''I noticed that Sam and her father had left,'' he told her.

''Yeah, and you're coming with me,'' Emma said, grabbing her bag and her car keys. ''Aaron already knows where we are going and we will be meeting up with them at Freddy's.''

Springtrap nodded, following her outside and entering Emma's car, still silent. Emma glanced at him as she drove out of the driveway and on the street, noticing the blank stare on his expression as he looked through the window. She narrowed her eyes.

''Okay, Afton, what's wrong?'' she asked.

''I'm fine,'' Springtrap replied, not bothering to look at Emma.

''If you were fine, you wouldn't be this quiet,'' Emma told him. ''I know that you are upset about something. You can either talk about it or let it eat you inside out.''

''Honestly, I'm currently not in a mood for an argument,'' Springtrap replied.

''Suit yourself,'' Emma said, with Springtrap being a little surprised that she didn't press the issue. ''Besides, we did promise Sam that we wouldn't argue today, didn't we? Nevertheless, you should take care of yourself or you might end up losing your mind.''

''I know,'' Springtrap muttered, once again feeling a knot in his stomach. There was something he simply didn't want to admit to himself and he knew that, if he didn't confront his feelings sooner or later, he would regret it.

xXx

''Where exactly are we going?'' Sam asked her father, feeling a bit impatient. She was quite excited about the surprise her mother had prepared for her, even more when her father drove her to a quite familiar part of the town.

''Hey, calm yourself down Sam,'' Aaron told her, smiling. ''You don't want the surprise to get ruined, right?''

''I wouldn't mind it,'' Sam replied as they turned into another street. ''As a matter of fact, I believe that I already know where we're going.''

''Really?'' Aaron snorted. ''Well, Emma did mention that you'd find this place even blindfolded, so I guess that I shouldn't be that surprised.''

''Wait, so we really are going to Freddy Fazbear's Pizza?'' Sam asked, with Aaron nodding. She fist-pumped. ''Awesome!''

''I have a feeling that something had happened since the last time we had seen each other,'' Aaron said. ''You haven't been this cheerful since, well… I think the last time I saw you this excited was when I took you on that road trip last year to visit the most haunted places in Utah.''

''I guess I just got a lucky break this summer,'' Sam replied.

''If that's so, maybe we could go on another road trip,'' Aaron replied. ''Either that, or we could just have another Dead by Daylight gaming night. You still play as The Huntress, right?''

''Well, she is my favorite Killer and I usually dominate the game while playing her,'' Sam replied.

''That's true,'' Aaron muttered, remembering the many times Sam had managed to beat him, despite all the counters he came up specifically for her. ''I will give you a call then.''

''Sure, Dad,'' Sam said, knowing that, as much as her father wanted to have some bonding time with her while playing games, he would still dread the moment she decides to get serious in-game. ''But, don't get too disappointed when I beat you.''

''Challenge accepted,'' Aaron chuckled. A few minutes later, they had arrived at Freddy's, with both exiting the car and waiting for Emma to arrive.

''I'm not sure if Mum told you about it, but I had actually gotten a job at Freddy's,'' Sam said.

''She did talk about it, but she never specified what kind of job it was,'' Aaron replied. ''Are you working as a cashier or…?''

''Actually, I work as an animatronic technician,'' Sam told her father, only for Aaron to ruffle her hair, with a proud look on his expression. ''Hey!''

''I'm impressed by your choice,'' he told her, with Sam grabbing his hand and moving it away, then tried to fix her hair. ''Although, I didn't know that you were familiar with robotics, aside from having an interest in animatronics thanks to those games.''

''To be honest, I took the time to learn a few things about animatronics during summer and for this, I had some help,'' Sam replied. ''It isn't that of a big deal, though, and I'm still learning. Besides, all I currently do is keeping an eye on the animatronics and checking on them after the place is closed for any damage. Since they're still new, as this place has been open for a little over a week, there isn't much that needs to be done.''

''As long as you enjoy it, I don't see a problem here,'' Aaron told her, giving her a thumbs up. He then looked around. ''Ah, there she is.''

Aaron pointed at the entrance, with Emma waving at them. She was alone, with Sam wondering where Springtrap was, as she expected him to be here too. Maybe he's already inside. After all, we didn't see Mum's car anywhere on the parking lot.

As she and Aaron walked over to the entrance, she had to wonder how the encounter between Springtrap and her father would go. Her father was certainly less paranoid than her mother and had a rather lax approach towards anything problematic, sometimes acting a little airheaded. She knew that this was something that annoyed Emma, since she wanted him to take things more seriously, with Aaron's reply being that she should relax a little or else she'll just miss out on the joys of life.

''I do hope that you like the surprise,'' Emma told Sam.

''It's amazing!'' Sam replied excitedly. ''This is going to be the best birthday ever!''

''I'm pretty sure that you're going to say the same next year,'' Aaron said in a sarcastic tone. ''At least we know now where we are going to celebrate your birthday again.''

''We'll see,'' Sam replied as they went inside. ''Who knows whether this location is going to be still open until next year.''

''Why wouldn't it be?'' Aaron asked, with Sam shrugging.

Emma meanwhile approached an employee, talking to her about the reservation, while Aaron was looking around, curious about the place. Sam, meanwhile, was trying to see if Springtrap was nearby. Mum didn't really left him at home, did she? I mean, I know that she would rather drop him off at a scrapyard than bring him here, but still…

The employee directed them to a booth, as Emma didn't deem it necessary to reserve a party room since it would only be a lunch for three people. The employee then told them that she would get the food and drinks they had ordered and left. They sat down, only for Aaron's eyes to widen as he realized something. He facepalmed.

''Oh, damn,'' he muttered.

''What's wrong, Dad?'' Sam asked him.

''I forgot about your birthday present,'' he said in an apologetic tone.

''Don't tell me you left it back at home like last time,'' Emma said, her eyes narrowing. Aaron gave her a sheepish look.

''Don't worry, this time, I actually brought it. I just left it in the car,'' he said. ''I'll be back soon.''

Sam chuckled, while Emma sighed, rubbing her temple. The accident she was referring to had actually occurred last Christmas, with Aaron calling them and telling them that he wanted to spend Christmas with them. Emma agreed to it and Sam was excited to see her father. However, he was in a rush and had accidentally left Sam's Christmas presents at his apartment. Sam didn't really care about it, but she thought that it was quite hilarious when, a few months later, Aaron showed up with the Christmas presents, having swapped the wrapping paper for an Easter-themed one, and apologized for messing up.

''Honestly, if his head wasn't attached to his neck, he'd probably forget about it too,'' Emma muttered. Sam chuckled.

''Well, that's how Dad is,'' she said, her smile fading. ''Anyways, Mum, where is Springtrap?''

''I assume that he's somewhere inside the restaurant. That is, if he managed to find his way through the back door,'' Emma added the last part in a teasing tone. ''Besides, I doubt that it would be that hard to miss a bunny animatronic, so you will just have to wait for him to appear.'' She then leaned her chin against her hand. ''He did look upset though, but he didn't want to talk about what was bothering him.''

''I hope you two didn't get into another argument,'' Sam said, frowning.

''No, we didn't,'' Emma replied. ''However, I do believe that you and Afton are going to have a conversation later on. He's more willing to talk to you about his issues than to me.''

Sam nodded. A few minutes later, Aaron approached them, holding a box covered in shiny white wrapping paper, with a red bow on the top.

''Here you go,'' Aaron said as he placed the box in front of Sam. ''Although, I think you already know what it is, since you've been telling me how you wanted to buy it by yourself.'' He sat down, turning to Emma while Sam unwrapped her birthday gift. ''What did you get her?''

''This!'' Sam answered instead, holding up the locket, with Aaron nodding.

''It's really pretty,'' he said. Sam just smiled and continued unwrapping the box and opening it, revealing a VR headset.

''Thanks, Dad! I can't wait to test this out!'' she said.

''Don't use it too much, though, as it is going to overheat and you will end up with a headache,'' Aaron told her, giving her a bitter smile. ''I actually hoped to get you an early access to the VR game my team was working on, as I feel that you'd love it, but per company policy, I'm not allowed to leak anything.''

''Really?'' Sam asked, feeling both excited and disappointed. ''Couldn't you at least tell me what it is about?''

''I'm sorry, but I can't. Besides, it's still in the beta stage and needs to be tested,'' Aaron replied. ''However, I can assure you that there will also be a Halloween-themed DLC, so you have something to look forward to after the VR game comes out. I will also give you a call when it does come out.'' He then pointed with his thumb at the stage with the animatronics. ''Although, that doesn't mean that I cannot give you any hints. I'm sure that you had already heard about the announcement of the game.''

Sam's eyes widened as she realized what he was talking about. Her heart was racing and she felt thrilled, having a good idea what kind of game this would be. While she had forgotten about it, as the announcement had been made several months ago and had no new updates, not even the name of the game, she felt hyped for it now that she got a confirmation from her father.

''Could you at least tell me the name of the game?'' Sam asked. ''I doubt that knowing the title is going to be much of a problem.''

''Well, I guess that it wouldn't,'' Aaron muttered as he thought about it. ''It's called Help Wanted.''

''I see,'' Sam grinned. While it was just a title, her mind instantly went into overdrive as she started speculating what the game would be about.

Eventually, the employee returned with the pizza and the drinks they had ordered, along with a Faz-Tokens Pass for Sam, which had been included in the birthday package Emma had reserved. Sam felt quite content as she at the pizza, but she still had to wonder where Springtrap was and what exactly he was upset about. Not to mention, he was also supposed to be a part of this celebration, as he was her best friend. She glanced at her mother, who was talking to her father about work and life in general, sounding as if everything was normal.

Well, in a way, things are relatively normal. Sam leaned back, crossing her arms as her eyes narrowed. On the other hand, if there's anything I have learned is that not all things are what they seem. My family isn't perfect, even though it seems as if it is. She then smiled. Nevertheless, it's not that bad.

''Anyways, Sam, what about you?'' Aaron turned to his daughter. ''I know that you work here now, but I'm curious whether there's anything else currently going on in your life.''

''To be honest, there kind of is…'' Sam muttered, only to get cut off.

''You know, you should look a bit more cheerful on your own birthday.''

''Springtrap!'' Sam was relieved to see Springtrap, smiling as he approached them, holding up a tray with the birthday cake. She glanced at her parents, noticing that Emma was a bit apprehensive, while Aaron looked quite interested in the bunny animatronic.

''I didn't know that you had agreed on having animatronic deliver the birthday cake,'' he said, glancing at Emma.

''Honestly, I would've been more satisfied with any other animatronic, but we just had to get this one,'' Emma replied, frowning as she looked at Springtrap, while Aaron gave her a puzzled look. He didn't really understand why Emma disliked the bunny animatronic so much.

''I know that you are worried, especially since you couldn't decide who'd be your daughter's friend and personal entertainer, but trust me, I only have her best interests in mind,'' Springtrap told her, with a rather smug look on his expression.

''Honestly, I feel as if I'm missing out on something,'' Aaron said as he leaned back, looking at Springtrap and Emma. However, before any of them could explain anything, Sam had intervened.

''Dad, meet Springtrap,'' Sam said. ''He's the reason why I decided to learn more about animatronic technology and why I work here. Also, he's quite unique.''

''Really?'' Aaron asked, giving Springtrap a curious look. ''What do you mean by that?''

''The truth is that I'm a highly advanced animatronic left behind by one of the former owners of Freddy Fazbear's Pizza and that I was found by your daughter,'' Springtrap explained, glancing at Sam. ''Not only did she salvage me and brought me to her home, but she also attempted to repair me and mend what was broken. Rest assured, she did an amazing job.''

Aaron whistled, looking quite proud as he turned to Sam. ''You know, you could've told me about your friend over here a bit earlier. I wouldn't have minded…'' he trailed off as he realized something. ''Wait, you brought the animatronic home?''

''Yeah,'' Sam replied, with a sheepish look on her expression. ''Spring is kind of living with us. His AI and his memory had also been left in tact and he has extensive knowledge in robotics, so he was also the one who helped me learn how to handle animatronics.''

''I see,'' Adam nodded. ''Well, whoever built that bunny was quite a genius.''

''Thank you,'' Springtrap said, with Sam chuckling, while Emma just glared at him. He then set the cake on the table and sat next to Sam, with them being across Emma and Aaron. ''You won't mind if I join you, then?''

Aaron and Sam shook their head, while Emma just gave him a cold look, biting her lip. She then took a deep breath and reached for the knife that was on the tray, starting to cut up the cake. She had actually been questioning her decision about also bringing Springtrap here, as she had a bad feeling that he would say or do something that might ruin this little party.

''You know, Emma, maybe we should've taken a few photos before you decided to massacre Sam's birthday cake,'' Aaron said suddenly, with Emma turning to him, only to realize that she accidentally cut up the cake into uneven pieces. She then glanced at Sam, who gave her a worried look.

''I'm sorry, Sam,'' she muttered, putting the knife down.

''It's okay, Mum,'' Sam replied, already knowing what was bothering Emma. ''Honestly, I'm really enjoying myself and I'm glad that my birthday turned out to be like this.''

''Sam is right,'' Aaron added. ''You should relax a little, considering there really isn't anything you need worry about.''

Emma didn't reply, but instead glanced at Springtrap, who just nodded, making it clear that he wasn't here to cause trouble and that he would stay true to his word. While she didn't trust him, she knew that he wouldn't want to disappoint Sam.

''Okay,'' she sighed. ''As long as nothing happens…''

Sam, Springtrap and Aaron were just glad that Emma had finally lowered her guard down. They knew that she was stressed about this whole thing, with Sam and Springtrap being aware that Springtrap's presence made her even more anxious than usual, so it was a good sign that she decided to listen to them. Emma then poked with her fork at what had remained of the strawberry cake, giving them all a nervous look.

''I hope that you don't mind having to eat a cake that looks like it went through a shredder,'' she said. Springtrap and Aaron gave her amused looks, while Sam chuckled, already putting two pieces of cake on her plate.

''No, I don't mind it at all,'' she replied, taking a bite.

xXx

A bit later, Aaron and Sam decided to waste the Faz-Tokens on the basketball arcade game, while Emma remained back at the booth, leaning against the seat and trying to relax a little. However, this proved to be quite difficult considering Springtrap was sitting across her.

''I thought that you'd be staying close to Sam,'' she told him.

''I don't think that's necessary since Aaron's with her,'' Springtrap replied. ''Besides, I figured that you might want company.''

''You're wrong,'' Emma replied. ''The last thing I need is your company.''

''Really?'' Springtrap snorted. ''I remember you telling me that, if there's something I'm upset about, that I should talk about it. However, I believe that the same applies to you as well.''

''Okay, then. If you want to have a conversation with me, Afton, then you'd have to tell me what exactly was bothering you,'' Emma said, tilting her head. She noticed Springtrap's ears lowering, with him avoiding eye-contact. Emma figured that he wouldn't talk, as he remained silent, but then he looked back at her, his eyes glowing in a faint purple.

''Fine,'' he said. ''I admit, I was feeling jealous at Aaron, and I know that I'm sounding like an idiot.''

''Well, you are an idiot, but I don't think that's the point here,'' Emma replied. ''I assume that you weren't really sure how to handle Aaron's visit, especially considering how you decided to act as if you were Sam's father during the past few weeks.''

''I think the more appropriate term would be 'father figure', but you're right,'' Springtrap said. ''In the end, I was upset over nothing, just as you were.''

Emma rose an eyebrow. ''What?''

''Let's be honest, you don't want me here,'' Springtrap replied. ''The only reason you even tolerate me is because of Sam. However, I have promised you that I wouldn't do anything that would ruin her day and I kept my word.'' He grinned. ''Yours, on the other hand…''

He quickly shut up as he saw the icy glare Emma gave him.

''You are right, I did expect you to do something wrong and it irritates me that you're actually trying to be a decent person,'' Emma told him.

''So, you don't believe that I can actually be a good person,'' Springtrap replied her, with Emma looking a bit stunned by that reply. She then shook her head.

''Afton, you-'' Emma got cut off by Springtrap.

''Listen, I understand why you don't want to trust me and, honestly, I'm not going to ask you for it. Nevertheless, I'd like to thank you for at least tolerating my presence,'' he told her. ''If it weren't for the circumstances I found myself in, I wouldn't even be part of your and Sam's life.''

''I hate to point it out to you, Afton, but if you didn't decide to involve yourself in Sam's life, I doubt that she would've been able to overcome her own issues,'' Emma replied, biting her lip. ''So, thank you for that.''

Springtrap stared at her, stunned. He then nodded.

''You're welcome,'' Springtrap replied, knowing that this wasn't something Emma really wanted to admit. ''At least I had managed to make one person happy.''

They were silent for a while, with Emma glancing past Springtrap, looking a little confused.

''What is that animatronic staring at?''

Springtrap turned around, noticing Showtime Freddy staring at a what Emma probably thought to be empty space. However, what he saw was a little boy in a black and white stripped T-shirt, looking back at Freddy. Sammy then turned to his father, smiling and then ran away. Springtrap sighed in relief, glad that Sammy wasn't afraid anymore of the animatronics. However, the joy he felt was replaced by a sense of dread when a wave of static briefly overwhelmed him.

Something's wrong.

''Hey, what are you-'' Emma didn't even finish her sentence as Springtrap suddenly stood up. At the same time, Aaron and Sam had returned, with Sam holding a Showtime Bonnie plushie she got from exchanging the tickets at Puppet's prize corner. She and Aaron were arguing playfully over their respective scores, when Sam noticed the alert look on Springtrap's expression. However, she decided to stay calm, especially after seeing the puzzled look Emma gave Springtrap.

''Hey, guys, guess who managed to beat Dad at that basketball arcade game,'' she said, drawing Springtrap and Emma's attention. Aaron ruffled her hair, grinning.

''Yeah, only because I let you,'' he said. Sam snorted, stuffing the plushie into her bag and glanced at Springtrap.

''I'm glad that you're enjoying yourself,'' he told her, with Sam noting a faint purple glow in his eyes. ''Anyways, before I forget about it, there is something I want to show you.''

''Sure,'' Sam replied. Despite his calm demeanor, there was something in Springtrap's tone, telling her that there was a problem they needed to deal with. She glanced back at Emma and Aaron, one being suspicious, while the other was curious. ''I'll be back soon.''

''Follow me,'' Springtrap said. Sam nodded, relieved that her parents didn't question any of this and followed Springtrap through the restaurant. It didn't take her long to realize that he was leading her to the hidden back room. She looked out for employees, but nobody seemed to be paying attention to them. Well, no one except for the animatronics. Sam's eyes narrowed as she saw Showtime Foxy who, while talking to a few children, rose his head and looked straight at them. He didn't follow them, though.

''What's wrong?'' Sam asked Springtrap as they entered the empty corridor.

''I'm not completely sure, but I just have this weird feeling… It's the same thing that happened when Sammy tried to contact us,'' Springtrap told her, pointing at the hidden back room. ''I had figured that it would be better if we get away from the crowd and go somewhere where people wouldn't think to search for us.''

Sam just nodded, following Springtrap inside once he opened the door. However, the moment they stepped inside the room, Sam's vision became blurry while Springtrap got overwhelmed by static once again. They could hear the door close behind them. As her vision cleared, Sam looked down, noticing a pool of dark red liquid on the floor. Stunned, she took a step back.

Blood?

She looked up, her eyes widening in shock. Five animatronic mascots were leaned against the wall, all of them having blood flowing through the gaps in the costumes. Not only that, but when Sam took a step forward, she could see glassy eyes staring back at her through the masks they were wearing. She clenched her fists, shaking, and glanced back at Springtrap. He had a look of shock and horror on his expression, but it then was replaced by a frown as he realized what was going on.

So, you really want to replay the nightmare?

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#Five Nights at Freddy's: The Untold Story (Masterlist)

[3d-wifey]

NSFW Alphabet: Poly!Lost Boys + Michael Edition

A/N: Version including Star

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

• David is an inherently selfish person. He's used to sharing with the boys, but he still wants your attention. He won't admit this though, he'll just stare daggers at you until you cuddle up to him of your own free will. He'll rub his hand up and down your arm with a smug little smirk while he lights up a cigarette because he got his way.

• Dwayne is a very tactile person so he's the most likely to clean you up afterward (with what little they have in the cave) and cuddle up to your thighs and rest his head down there while you comb your fingers through his hair. He just really loves touching you. He's also the most emotionally intelligent one in the group, so he knows it's nice to be taken care of after.

• Michael is not as likely as Dwayne to clean you up. Occasionally, though, he will feel inclined to lick wipe cum off of you, especially if it's his or Dwayne's. Other than that, he'll cuddle up to the side of you that David isn't occupying and shoot the shit with Marko. Most likely to fall asleep out of all the boys.

• As much as Paul loves you and loves being close to you, he's lighting up a joint after. He's just filled with so much energy after sex, he'll probably blast some music on the speakers they stole bought and jump around the room. Will probably go hunting.

• When Marko isn't flirting with chatting up Michael, he's being a general nuisance. Poking and prodding at places he knows you're ticklish at, pressing on hickies and bruises he left behind to see you jump, and nipping at any of your exposed skin. It's his way of subtly checking on you, making sure they weren't too rough with you. He figures if you can yell at him, then you can't be too hurt. Undoubtedly will be roped into going hunting with Paul.

B = Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partners)

• David likes his brain. Cliche? Maybe, but it's true. His intellect, mixed with his intimidating, yet, seductive, blue eyes, got him whatever he wanted when he was human, and it goes double for his undead life.

Loves your neck. He loves how your pulse jumps under his hand when he squeezes it, he loves how soft it feels under his lips when he marks you up, and he particularly loves to feed from there.

• Dwayne likes his chest and stomach, but mostly because of how much you like them. Believe it or not, he does in fact own shirts, but with abs like his, why would he bother wearing one?

He wants to say he loves all of you equally, but he knows that a glimpse of your thighs at any time will give him a semi. Favorite spot to feed from you.

• Michael is partial to his arms and back. He'd die if anyone said this about him, but Michael is a total gym rat. He likes knowing even without the vampire strength, he'd be able to carry you around with no problem. He'll try to subtly flex in front of you in his little cropped muscle shirts, so please tell him how strong you think he is.

He's definitely the most sentimental of the boys, since he's still half-human, and he's always wanted that teenage relationship you see in movies. As such, he loves your hands. They're smaller than his and they feel like they fit perfectly together. He loves to hold them in public, he loves to play with them when you're sitting next to him/on his lap, and he loves how they look wrapped around his dick.

• Paul loves his hair. Though it technically isn't a body part, he puts so much effort into taking care of it that it's practically an extension of himself. He really loves when you pull on it.

Boob man, boob man! We got ourselves a boob man, people! Big or small. He's looking at them, he's grabbing them, and he's most definitely sucking on them. If and when his clingy ass cuddles up to you, his head is homing in on them like a missile.

• Marko likes his hands. They're long and dexterous. He actually sewed each of those patches onto his jacket and if you just so happen to find a random patch sewed into your clothing, you know who to blame. His hands are also skilled at other things that involve far less clothing.

He loves your ass! He keeps his hands in your back pocket when you're out in public and loves to see you jump when he squeezes your ass through your jeans. In fact, whenever you wear a skirt, he does everything in his power to get you to bend over and whenever he gets a peek, he thinks maybe there is a God.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum, basically)

• David is cumming in your mouth or on you. If he's in a good mood, he might ask you where you want it. It's more than likely going on your face though.

• Dwayne always prefers cumming deep inside you because it feels intimate, he's real soft like that. And even though he knows he can't get you pregnant, it doesn't mean he can't try. Also, it's less of a clean-up.

• Michael can't cum inside you since you're both technically human. He doesn't really have a preference, so it's really up to you.

• Paul is gross. He loves making a mess, so cumming on you is his second favorite part of having sex with you. 9 times out of 10 will be aiming for your tits.

• Marko likes to cum on your ass or back because he's a feral animal. He'll wipe it off, at least. Probably with your clothes.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

• David plans on turning you eventually. He's allowing you to enjoy your humanity for now and giving you the illusion of choice. But just know, somewhere over the horizon, the change is coming. You somehow got him to care about you, and he's not letting you get away anytime soon. The other guys know (other than Michael) and maybe they'll feel a little guilty for deceiving you, but they're still just as selfishly sadistic as David. You might hate them for it, but they'll have the rest of eternity to make it up to you.

• Dwayne is into seeing you choke on him, more so than David even. It's not even an ego thing, he just loves your reaction and how hard you're trying to please him. No joke, the freakiest one in the group.

• Michael so desperately wants you to ride his face, but he doesn't know how to broach the topic and he doesn't want to just ask you. His pride won't let him. Needless to say, he's very jealous of how confident the other guys are.

• Paul really, really, really wants to drink your blood when your high to see if he'll get high from it. Not a dirty secret, but an odd one nonetheless.

• Marko has stolen multiple pairs of your panties. How he managed to get them is a secret to everyone but him.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

• Hmm...it depends on what you count as experience. Though he's a total pretty boy, Michael, at most, has experience kissing and heavy petting. He's made out with people before, but he was always too awkward to seal the deal.

• The other boys came from time periods where casual sex was frowned upon. Less so for men, but still frowned upon. I can see Paul and Marko sleeping with their prey before eating them, but David and Dwayne don't like to play with their food. So the two of them don't have much experience, but David has enough confidence in what he's doing that he seems like a natural and Dwayne is very intuitive and can read your body.

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying)

• David likes when you ride him. He'll sit back, maybe smoke a cigarette, while you work for him. But don't be mistaken, he's still in control. He also likes making you grind on his thigh while he sits back and watches. Something about seeing you so needy for him that you'll hump his leg like a dog, makes him feel powerful.

• Dwayne loves any position where he's close to you and can kiss you, missionary in particular. He can leave marks all over you and you him, he can see all the expressions he brings out of you, and he especially loves how your thighs feel wrapped around his waist.

• Michael likes when you ride him for the complete opposite reason as David. He acts all nonchalant when he asks you, but it's really because he likes being under you. He's in the perfect position to grab your hips and help you ride him, but if you just so happen to slap him around, well, who is he to stop you?

• Paul, like most teenage boys, wants to impress his girlfriend (who just so happens to be you). What better way to impress you than to take you flying! Knowing Paul and his libido, this leads to sky sex baby! Something about the adrenaline of doing something dangerous and possibly being spotted is addicting for you both. Let's just hope he doesn't get too distracted. Falling from that height is definitely gonna ruin the mood.

• Marko's favorite is doggy, surprise surprise. He'll absolutely try to talk you into anal. Whether you do or not is a different story. He's also partial to you sitting on his lap, your back to his chest.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

• David will only laugh during sex if he's laughing at you. If somebody embarrassed themselves in some way, it is guaranteed to get a condescending chuckle out of him.

• Dwayne isn't really a goofy person in general and he takes your pleasure very seriously. At most, you'll get a smirk or a smile out of him.

• Michael definitely isn't going out of his way to make you laugh while he's 7 and a half inches deep in you, but he's not opposed to laughing if something funny happens.

• Paul is the one everyone is laughing at. Very likely to say something while he's dirty talking that'll make you pause before bursting into laughter. Especially if he's high.

• Marko is very giggly in any given situation, and he makes a habit of never taking himself or others too seriously.

H = Hair (How well-groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

• David has never touched a razor in his life. It's the 80s baby, the bush is in fashion! Not that he cares; he just doesn't care enough to shave. He is, as we all know, a bottle blond, but he isn't manic enough to dye his pubic hair. Vampire or not, there are just some lines he will not cross. He will, however, have you help dye his happy trail from brown to bleach blond. It's your favorite day of the month because he walks around shirtless after with his jeans slung very, very low to let the dye set.

• Speaking of happy trails, Dwayne's is on full display considering his total lack of a shirt and it. Is. Perfect. It's a perfect smattering of dark hair leading from his navel to his crotch that makes you want to follow it with your tongue. Could be convinced to trim his pubic hair if you complain enough, but he isn't gonna like it.

• Michael has a bush because he does care that it's in fashion. He's still susceptible to the latest fads and the world is still riding that "all-natural" wave from the 70s. His pubic hair is a little darker than the hair on the rest of his body and it's just as curled as the hair on his head. Can be peer pressured into shaving it.

• Paul doesn't grow much hair to begin with, which is surprising considering how long and thick the hair on his head is. Unlike David, Paul is a natural blond and what little pubic hair he has lays flat. He'll shave it into shapes occasionally, but it itches every time it grows back.

• Marko's hair is thick and coily. Not curly, coily. It's dark blond, not that you ever see it since he prefers to have it shaved. One time, Paul convinced him to let him wax him; never again.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect.)

• David is not romantic in the traditional sense, but you'll never doubt how he feels about you. He's not gonna worship you and kiss the ground you walk on, he's not Michael for God's sake, but there's a certain possessive quality to the sex you have.

• Intimacy is Dwayne's forte. But don't assume that means he's a prude, far from it. Sure, he'll take his time to kiss you from head to toe before he even takes his pants off, but he'll also finger you on the Ferris wheel. The duality of man.

• Michael...hmm. Michael has an odd balance with intimacy. On one hand, he really does want to make your time together romantic and affectionate, on the other, he just gets so caught up and drunk in you that he can never wait long before he dives in.

• Paul wouldn't know intimacy if it grabbed him by the dick. He still loves you, of course, and the sex is great, but that's not his MO. He's kind of blind to romance.

• Marko is surprisingly intimate. Sometimes, he'll stay behind in the cave while the others go hunting so you and him can have some alone time.

J = Jack off (Masturbation Headcanon)

• Of course, Michael has done it before. He's a boy teeming with hormones. But once you started dating, it sort of became obsolete. Sure, if the mood strikes and you're nowhere in sight, he'll do what must be done, but he definitely doesn't prefer it.

• I can't imagine the other boys masturbating. Like, legitimately. If they get horny, they'll just have sex. Easy.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

• They're all voyeurs. They'd have to be in a relationship with this many people. But David likes watching the most. He likes to sit back in his chair with a cigarette and watch you all together before he joins in. He's technically the leader so it's like you're all putting on a show for him. Choking? Definitely choking and he does it in public too. He'll grab your neck and use his forefinger to turn your chin towards him to kiss you. Feeling your walls clench around him as he tightens his grip is heaven-sent.

• Dwayne has a thing for your smell. Not like your perfume or anything, but your natural musk. He buries his nose in your hair when he hugs you. He even prefers it if you don't shave your pubic hair. Of course, he's not gonna tell you that. But the way he ruts his hips into the bed when his nose is buried in your pussy, definitely hints at it. Somnophilia on a lesser level. There's something about how much you trust him that gets him going.

• Michael has a mommy kink? More likely than you think. He'll probably only call you that during the daytime when the other guys are asleep. It happened for the first time while you were riding him and you wrapped your hand around his throat. Maybe you were trying to stop him from moaning so loud in your house full of people or maybe it was just unconscious on your part, either way, he couldn't stop it from slipping out. Please don't tell the guys.

• Paul likes roleplay to an extent. Think less doctor and patient and more rockstar and his groupie. It'll be very giggly and very unserious, but you'll both have fun. Surprisingly, paul thinks it's hot when you cry. Unsurprisingly, he also thinks it's hot when you're angry.

• Marko is an exhibitionist. Keeping it within the group is one thing, but Marco likes to push it to another level. I'm talking about places where you two will definitely get caught. You'd be surprised how often someone might walk upon you two and get off on peeping on you. Rest assured they're Marko's next meal. And when all of you are on the boardwalk, he'll take your hand in his and drag you off with a pep in his step to desecrate another fair ride. You two have done horrible things in the Tunnel of Love.

L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)

• Oh, anywhere and everywhere, baby! If there's a will, there's a way and there's definitely a will. In the cave, on the beach, in a booth at a diner they're definitely getting banned from, etc. The list goes on! Hell, they'd do it on the boardwalk if it didn't mean a permanent ban.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

• It would be easier just to name what doesn't turn them on. Like, clowns. Clowns don't turn them on.

N = No (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

• As a general rule of thumb for all of them, no to anything that'll leave you in more pain than pleasure. No ageplay either.

• David is against any degrading that insults his intelligence. Calling him a slut or a whore is one thing, calling him stupid is another. He won't drink from you during sex because he knows how easy it is to get carried away when pleasure is involved. It'll be a pain if he killed you too soon.

• Dwayne is not a big fan of any of the nasty bodily fluids. He may be a sex fiend, but he's not an animal. He's also wholeheartedly against degrading. He's more of a soft dom/service top, and he called you a slut once or something equally as demeaning, but his heart wasn't in it. He doesn't want to unintentionally make you insecure about anything.

• Michael isn't into angry sex. It's very rare when you're mad at him, even rarer for him to be mad at you. If you're both mad at each other, it's over something serious and sex would be the last thing on his mind. He's all for makeup sex though.

• Paul's not super into power roles during sex. Nobody in charge, nobody calling the shots, just vibes.

• Marko wouldn't call you mommy or any title. He doesn't want you calling him anything along those lines either. He just can't take it seriously. Calling him Daddy is a quick ticket to getting laughed at.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

• David prefers receiving. The asshole he is sees blowjobs as a treat for you. It's not something you're doing for him, but something he's allowing you to do. He'll sit back in his weird little wheelchair thrown as you kneel in front of him and he expects a 'please' and 'thank you'. Not opposed to giving as long as you beg for it.

• If Dwayne had to pick a place to die for the second time, it would be between your thighs. If you offer it, he won't turn it down. He loves seeing you between his thighs after all, but there's something about feeling your soft thighs twitching and squeezing the sides of his head. He's obsessed with the way you sound when he has his mouth on you, the way you smell, and the way you shake. It's almost enough to make him cum in his pants.

• Michael gives as much as he gets. Whenever you go down on him, he has to return the favor. He's literally singing your praises when you go down on him, but he really, really wishes you would sit on his face. The idea of you grinding on his tongue and using him for your pleasure makes his hands sweat and his knees weak.

• Paul will give you the sloppiest head. He'd have smoked something beforehand, where he gets the weed is one of the 8th wonders of the world. Pushing your legs over his shoulders, gripping handfuls of your thighs, moaning into you. Literally just pussy drunk. Dear God, pull his hair and lead him where you want him. Legitimately could cum in his pants. Moans like a whore when you give him head.

• Marko much prefers skipping to the main course. He's not opposed to giving or receiving, but those are just appetizers. If he wanted to get his dick wet, he'd much rather do it inside of your pussy. He also has the overwhelming urge to talk, which kind of takes away from him going down on you.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

• None of them have a set pace. It depends on the mood you caught them in and where you are.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

• With this many insatiable partners, quickies are a staple of your relationship and they happen often. They're typically initiated by Paul and Marko, but the others aren't above pulling you into a semi-secluded alleyway either.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

• Do the guys who hung from the bottom of a train track as a train rode by above them while they hooted and hollered (sans Michael, who was scared shitless) take risks?

• In all seriousness, they're all down to experiment. You don't become a vampire by sticking to the same old shit. They'll try anything you want as long as it doesn't put you in immediate danger (it's best not to tell them about Paul's favorite past time in the sky). Remember: safe, sane, and consensual. While safety and sanity are relative among them, consent is not. Consent is a 6 way street for you guys. So if you're game, they are too.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

• They can go for however many rounds you're up for. Individually, I'd say keep going until your legs go numb. But with all of them at the same time, keep it at a 2 round maximum. You're only human after all. For now.

T = Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

• Nope. Maybe there's a sex shop somewhere in California, but with this many partners, none of you need any.

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)

• We don't even need to talk about David.  You know and I know that he's a total tease. In fact, the only reason his photo isn't in the dictionary next to the word tease is because vampires don't show up in pictures. His teasing is mostly private.

• Dwayne is an intentional tease and an accidental tease. He'll take his time with the foreplay, nipping at your bare skin before kissing the rest of your body, but he won't touch you where you want him to unless you ask him. He'll say, "Speak up. I can't hear you if you're mumbling." Knowing damn well he heard you with his advanced hearing. But sometimes he'll hold your hips still against his while you sit on his lap in public, or trail his hands over your bare thighs without any sexual thoughts behind his actions.

• Michael is under no illusions that he's a tease. He won't even attempt it because he knows it'll be turned on him. In fact, YOU tease him. All you have to do is grab his chin and pull him into a kiss and he's following you around the boardwalk like a puppy. Hugging you from behind and pressing his hard-on into your back.

• Paul likes to think he's a tease, and it's really adorable that he tries. He'll start off real strong but he's easily swayed by your pleas and his own overwhelming need, and soon enough he'll end up begging you.

• Marko, like David, is a big tease, but, like, in the most literal sense. Poking and prodding at you, pulling you into a hug from behind before biting at your neck, pinching your ass to make you jump, etc etc. Just real gremlin shit. He's the schoolboy and you're his crush, get ready to have your pigtails tugged. Doesn't matter if you're in private or in public, he's an equal opportunity tease, baby!

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

• David is mostly quiet. Mostly because he's so focused on the sounds you make and the best way to get more out of you. But partially because he thinks being silent during sex fits his image. He'll occasionally let out a grunt or a curse.

• Dwayne is louder than expected. He isn't screaming, sadly, but his moans are deep and unrestrained. He knows how much you like to hear him, so he won't hold himself back.

• At the beginning of your giant relationship, Michael still holds onto that toxic idea that moaning makes him less masculine. But Dwayne isn't afraid to moan and he's the most manliest man Michael knows. So he drops that trait pretty fast. Is very loud and will get you caught in public.

• When Paul moans, they're very soft, pretty things—just like the rest of him. A lot of "Fuck, babe." And "Just like that."

• Marko is more of a huffer. He'll show his pleasure through panting with a few scattered moans thrown in. Don't be surprised if he giggles every now and then.

W = Wild Card (A random headcanon for the character)

• Contrary to popular belief, David is willing to let you take control; if you think you can handle him, that is. The biggest brat. You'll really have to tighten the metaphorical leash on him. He expects you to slap him around, choke him a little,  scratch him up. If you aren't rough with him, you're getting absolutely no respect and he will make fun of you. What's the point of letting you be in charge if you're too afraid to. Take. Charge.

• Dwayne wishes he could marry you. He's not exactly a traditionalist, but seeing how much love you give him and the boys every day, and how much they love you in turn, can make a man sentimental. And you know what they say: every girl dreams of her wedding day, and every boy dreams of his wedding night. In this case, Dwayne dreams of both.

• Michael is very grateful that he can bring you home to meet his mom. She's been nagging him about not having a girlfriend for years (little does she know there are also 4 boyfriends). And you guys get along, which is a huge plus!

• When his scruff starts leaning towards a beard, Paul lets you shave it for him. Since he can't exactly see himself in the mirror, you're a pretty good solution. And it's not like any cuts you leave behind will last long.

• Marko is convinced you have a favorite among them, no matter how much you insist you don't. He'll do little competitions and ask you who kisses the best and who's the funniest and who makes you cum the hardest. He's honestly fine with not being the favorite. As long as he isn't your least favorite.

X = X-ray (Let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

• Dwayne is the biggest (a surprise to no one) at a whopping 8 and a half inches. He's thick too; all in all, pretty proportional. Definitely something to write home about.

• David is close behind with a nice 8 inches. The tip flushes a soft red, becoming darker the longer he's hard.

• Michael is just about 7 and a half inches. A little left-leaning, with a thin vein along the bottom.

• Paul and Marko are both between 6.5 and 7 inches, but Marko is a little thicker. The only word that comes to mind for Paul is pretty, just like the rest of him.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

• They're all eighteen and nineteen-year-old vampires (and half vampires), you do the math. Your own libido skyrockets to keep up with theirs.

Z = Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep afterward)

• If it's at night, then Michael could be persuaded to take a nap with you afterward. But the rest, not at all. Remember: they're vampires. If it's closer to sunrise, then they're all likely just to sleep with you.

[slasherwife]

Can you do Ash + slashers with an S/o who sits on their slasher whenever theyre sitting? Like "oh your sitting down? Then I'm gonna sit on your lap instead of one of the other empty 5 seats"

oof all these adorable asks i can’t— 💕💕

Thomas Hewitt

Tommy would be too flustered to even realize there were so many seats around him, he also thinks ur way out of his league so he would just be like “!!!!!” 😳💕💕

afterwards he might laugh and get all warm inside seeing that out of all the seats around you you chose his lap 🥺💖 like UWU my babyyyy 😭

after his moment of shock, he would avert his eyes and his blushy face while running his hands up and down your waist and thighs, giving them an affectionate squeeze before holding you 😖💕💕

Jason Vorhees

Jason would be even more blushy than tommy on this one 🥺 because mentally he’s at most a 16 year old boy

he would look down at you drowning in fluttery bashful feelings, before unleashing his gentle side and wrapping himself around you 😭💖

he smiles down on you, emitting those warm infp vibes he gives, and contemplates how lucky he is 🥺💕

also he wouldn’t care all that there were empty seats around him he’s just grateful you chose him imo 💕

Michael Myers

ew affection??? c r i n g e

he would be annoyed as u innocently climb onto him because this man be a BEAST, but ofc he is severely affection starved,🥺

so dont be alarmed when he hesitantly melts into you, wanting to feel you even closer to him and to feel your body heat 🥺💕

he might pretend he’s annoyed that you ignored the other seats and chose him, but irl he thought it was adorable and he will now carry you everywhere 💕

Bo Sinclair

“you just couldn’t stay away, could you?” asshole is asshole. but he does it in a hot way that’s annoying 💖

gets all smug, gets stupidly sexual about it, squeezing your ass just to get your reaction, “was that too hard, baby?” then positions your face at him so you’re looking up into his eyes as he strokes your cheek 🥺💕

he has all the control in this situation, and loves that you constantly come back for more because who can resist this hottie? 😍 he teases you for being so desperate for him you can’t help but ignore all the other seats and come to him 💕✨✨

Brahms Heelshire

becomes stiff, but it’s replaced quickly with excitement that he bottles up very poorly :D💕

he tries to be a gentleman like he’s read in classic books and stuff, but he just ends up getting excited like a child and wraps his arms around you and rocks you back in forth in a strong embrace 😊💕

he’s utterly flattered that you choose to do this every single time he sits and he NEVER complains. he’ll even treat it like a game 🙃💘

it just feeds his ego more when it’s when there’s empty seats around him, turning devious as he sees that you love him that much 😊💕💕

Ash Williams

ash wouldn’t even flinch he’d be like “ah my baby has arrived” uwu 💕 he wouldn’t make snooty comments like bo, but he’d have that look in his eye that you know he’s smug about it 😂💕

he’d be surprisingly sweet, asking u how your day went and asking why you feel so sweet today lel 💕

he’d actually suggest you find another seat, pointing to a spot next to him or across from him, just to see what you’d do haha

if u play along w him he wouldn’t let u leave he’d be like “GODDAM I WAS KIDDING BOO” 😂😂💕💕💕💕

[thesquidkid]

Together we can quiet all the noises

3k of malex fluff post 3x09 (Read on ao3)

Alex woke up slowly, feeling his face buried into something warm. As he came to his senses, he realised his entire body was wrapped against a human size pillow, making him hum in comfort. He opened his eyes, blinking a few times to get used to the light coming through the curtains. Once his eyes were used to it, he met Michael’s soft eyes and warm smile, who was playing with his hair.

Alex had both his arms around Michael’s right leg, his head on his lap, while Michael was sitting against the headboard, one hand in Alex’s hair and the other holding a book, smiling down on Alex.

“Morning,” Michael said softly, not to disturb Alex, “how are you feeling?”

Alex took a few seconds to think about his answer, enjoying the warmth and the comfort of Michael’s alien body and the blanket. The events of the last few days came back to him, still a bit hazy, but clear enough that he remembered nearly everything. He remembered working on the Lockhart machine longer than he should’ve, missing his and Michael’s first public date, hallucinating Nora, their conversation, standing on the ledge, nearly dying.

But he also remembered Michael coming to save him, them working on the machine together and cutting out his father’s piece from it, Michael driving him back home and Alex falling asleep, Michael holding him close.

“Better,” he answered eventually, deciding that he wasn’t good yet, but wanted to work on it. Michael smiled and continued to play with his hair. Alex sighed, making Michael chuckle, but not stop.

He had a pensive look on his face, having put his book down on the bedside table, clearly playing words in his head, finding the best way to say what he wanted. And so Alex waited, neither of them were in a hurry.

After some time, Michael spoke up again, his voice barely more than a whisper, “You could’ve died, Alex.” He took a shaky breath, his eyes never leaving Alex’s, “I only just got you back, losing you - I can’t -” he went off, looking up and blinking the tears away.

Alex, feeling much better physically after a good night's sleep, sat up to face Michael. He raised a hand to his cheek rubbing the tears away with his thumb. “I’m sorry,” he said, matching Michael’s whisper.

“I know,” he replied, “but next time, call me?”

And Alex thought about that. Michael wasn’t asking him to call so he could stop him from whatever brave or stupid plan he had. Michael wasn’t asking Alex to call him to blame or criticise or whatever it is that both of them would’ve done in the past.

No, this time, Michael wanted Alex to call him so he could help. So he could be present by Alex’s side, just like he was when they worked on the machine together. And Alex knew that it worked both ways now. That Michael understood why Alex had worked on the machine for so long, why he had to.

More unspoken words, Alex thought. Except this time, they also spoke words. This time, they asked each other for help when they needed it.

“I will,” Alex replied, a promise.

Their faces were only a few inches away, and even though they had both grown, had started to communicate more with each other, there was still a language they were fluent in.

Whereas in the past it was usually in a hurry, a stopwatch over their heads, counting down the days, the hours, the minutes until they had to separate, now they had all the time in the world.

It was slow, yet still desperate. Desperate for love, fear still running in their veins. But there was hope too. Hope for a future together. Their lips met, moving as one rhythm, hands coming to their hair, a dance they knew by heart, but was still as exhilarating as the first time.

Until a loud rumble came from between them, making them separate, Michael barely hiding his laugh and Alex blushing. He never cursed his stomach as much as in that moment. He leaned into Michael once more, hoping to continue the dance that was just interrupted, but Michael leaned away, putting his hands on Alex’s shoulder and pushing him away.

Alex wanted to be mad, but looking at the love on Michael’s face, he realised that they had time to do all they wanted. And now, he also realised he wanted food.

His stomach seemed to agree once more, making itself heard. This time, Michael didn’t even bother, and giggled loudly, his shoulder moving up and down, and soon Alex was joining him.

When they both caught their breaths again, Michael pushed Alex down, carefully, against the mattress, straddling his hips, before kissing his nose and getting off the bed. Alex’s hand, who had landed against Michael’s naked hip, followed the other man, then fell on the bed, dramatically. Michael simply rolled his eyes at the scene in front of him, smiling at Alex’s pout.

“I’ll get the bath ready for you then I’ll make you some lunch, how about that?” he asked, in answer to Alex’s stomach.

Alex hummed at the mention of a bath, his water bill would be higher this month, this being the second bath he took since Michael took him home from Deep Sky.

“Wait lunch? How long did I sleep?” he asked in amazement, he had gone to bed at merely 6 pm, so this would possibly be the longest sleep he had since - well since forever now that he thought about it, his father having applied the military clock in the house.

“About 17-18 hours? I woke up around 9,” Michael replied with a shrug. According to him, Alex still needed much more sleep, and maybe to never leave the bed where the two could cuddle all day.

Alex turned around, looking at the clock on the bedside table for the first time since he woke up. It showed 11:36 am. So he had indeed sleeped for the longest in his entire life. Maybe he should do that again, if it got him such amazing sleep…

He realised he had said that at loud, when Michael nearly shouted No! with a scandalised face, before turning around to start on lunch.

“Wait!” Alex called out after him, making Michael turn around so fast his neck nearly snapping, “can, uh, can I help you? With lunch,” he added at Michael’s confused look, making him smile.

“I didn’t know you cooked, private,” Michael replied with a smug smile, which quickly faltered at Alex’s expression.

“I don’t, I usually order take out or eat prepared food,” he said, with sadness and a hint of disappointment in his voice. His dad never thought teaching his kids cooking was necessary, and his mom left before he could even have solid memories of her.

Seeing Alex feeling down, and deciding that he could curse Jesse Manes and his shitty parenting all he wanted, right now his focus was Alex. “I always dreamt of giving a soldier orders,” Michael said instead, trying to get a smile out of Alex.

And it worked, “Fuck you,” the other man laughed out. “Oh and, I don’t have much food in my kitchen…” he continued, feeling slightly ashamed of his cooking skills, or the lack thereof.

“Alex,” Michael said, stopping the spiraling and gaining Alex’s attention, “I literally learned to cook in a junkyard, I - we - will be able to cook something delicious,” he replied with confidence, catching himself up. If Alex wanted to help, how much of a catastrophe could it end up being?

In the end, they decided that the bath could wait until after Alex had eaten something, so they got dressed and made their way to the kitchen, where Alex sat on the counter watching Michael open all his cabinets.

He had often dreamt of that moment, when he would wake up next to Michael in bed, and could see him cook something. He had heard a lot from Maria about Guerin’s cooking skills, and wanted to test them for himself.

Michael, after having a look through all the cabinets, stood up and faced Alex. “Okay so,” he said, standing in between Alex’s legs, “I think I overestimated the food you have.”

All while he talked, he rubbed his hands up and down Alex’s body, making him hum and smile, “But, lucky for you, I am an expert in throwing weird stuff together and hoping for them best.”

“Sure, but we will need to go grocery shopping together soon,” Alex chuckled, putting his arms around Michael’s neck and playing with the curls.

“Oh thank god!” he exhaled, leaning his head into Alex’s shoulder, “I didn’t want to offend you, but babe, this is bad.”

Alex felt more than heard Michael’s laugh against his neck, and couldn’t help but join, somehow not ashamed of his cabinets. Michael had reacted in such a way that Alex was at ease, every cell in his body content to just stay in this embrace, to have Michael against him and to play with his hair. However, his stomach once more decided to separate them.

Michael detached himself from Alex and kissed his pout away, before reaching for a saucepan and giving him instruction.

They cooked in a light atmosphere, music coming out of Alex’s phone, Michael occasionally reaching to him to make sure he didn’t overcook anything. They moved around each other with an ease neither knew was there. Michael still didn’t quite know where everything was and would open three cabinets before finding what he was looking for, Alex claiming that he didn’t know enough about cooking to help. More than once they bumped into each other, both reaching for the same spatula, or both heading to check the pasta.

Once everything was prepared, they separated the food into two plates and sat at the table to eat, sitting in front of each other. Lunch turned out delicious - not that Alex had any doubt. They had made Tagliatelle with white sauce and tins of corn and carrots. It was simple, but to Alex? It was the best meal he had ever eaten.

“It’s because you haven’t eaten properly in two days,” Michael had said with a slight blush after Alex had complimented his cooking.

They ate, talking about nothing yet everything. Sharing little stories they knew the other didn’t know. Little facts that didn’t matter over the course of the last decade. But that mattered now that they were both ready for a steady relationship.

Afterwards, Alex went to take a bath while Michael did the dishes. He knocked on the door and opened it once Alex had agreed. He was met with the sight of Alex laying under a slim cover of soap, barely hiding anything, his eyes merely opened, an arm on the edge of the bath.

“I, uh, finished the dishes,” Michael said, trying to print this image in his head forever. Alex, relaxed, happy.

“Wanna join?” Alex asked, with a tilt of his head. This was new territory for the both of them. They had seen each other naked, obviously, but it was always with the rush of sex, and never with something as domestic as a bath.

Michael nodded with a smile and started to take off his clothes, feeling suddenly very self-conscious about his body. Any doubts he had however, flew out the window when he saw the look in Alex’s eyes. It wasn’t a look of pure lust. Of course the want and lust was there, how could it not be between them, but it was also accompanied by something deeper, something that Michael had never dared to imagine. Love. Admiration. Those were words both dropped after their teenage years. After they realised the hurt and pain the world could cause. After they realised that that hurt and pain came from their love.

But there wasn’t any pain in their love anymore. The scars they wore, both physical and mental, didn’t only bring pain and heartbreak anymore. They were also symbols of the battles they fought to get to this exact moment, naked in front of each other, in more ways than one.

And so Michael joined it, and after the awkward shifts, they leaned into each other, Michael in between Alex’s legs, his head bent in an awkward angle so it could lean on Alex’s shoulder while also looking at him.

They got cleaned, but it was less needed as the bath and shower they took the day before, so they simply relaxed and enjoyed the moment.

After getting dried and dressed, they questioned what to do for the rest of the day. Where before they would have jumped on the occasion to head to bed and have quick, intense, sex, this time they were conscious about it. Alex’s leg was still sore from having worn the prosthetic for so long without a break, and he could also feel each of his muscles tense when he moved. So sex was out of the equation for now. And neither felt bad about it. They just needed to figure out what a couple did on a lazy afternoon.

They couldn’t go to the movies, Alex’s brain and eyes wouldn’t be very happy with it all. And Alex mentioned that technically the only date he had ever been on was at a paintball place, so really he shouldn’t be taken into account when making decisions.

And this is how Michael got his idea (not that he would ever thank Forrest for it).

He drove them into town, telling Alex that it was a surprise, and parked his truck on the main square. He opened the door to Alex, who answered with an eye roll and a blush, and led him towards the library.

They weren’t holding hands, knowing that Roswell was still not a very queer-friendly place, and not really in the mood for bigots, but they were walking close enough that their shoulders would occasionally bump. In their own little bubble, they opened the door to the library, and on instinct Michael made his way to the physics and space section, before remembering why he was there.

Today wasn’t about borrowing a book about space or relativity or agriculture. No, today was about giving him and Alex something that neither had growing up.

Ignoring Alex’s confused questions, he took them to the children’s section, passed all the books and opened the glass doors to the games section. He chuckled as he saw Alex start to understand what they were doing there.

“I didn’t even know there were so many games here,” he said in amazement.

“I know!” Michael replied, “I only found out about it cause some kid got lost in the engineering section.”

They separated to browse all the different games, agreeing to start with two games each and see where the rest of the afternoon would go.

The only inconvenience about the room they were in was that it was built for children and wasn’t the most comfortable for Alex. But Michael, having decided that this day was going to be perfect, went to talk to the librarians - who he was starting to know well, coming here to use their computers or borrow books as often as he could. He came back with a smile, indicating to Alex that they were going to make an exception for them, and allow them to take the games to a reading room by the side, where there were bigger tables and chairs.

And so they played. They played Clue (Alex won, but not by much), Milles Bornes (Michael won, Alex insisted he cheated), Timeline (Alex won, Michael blames the high school history lessons), made funny figures in Chrominos, and struggled to understand the rules of Backgammon, before ending with a Game of Trains.

One of the librarians - Christie - had to come tell them that the library was closing in 10 minutes, but she barely broke their bubble of comfort. They tidied all the games and put them back on the shelves, helping a little girl put back a game of Monopoly, and left.

Once in the truck, Michael didn't drive away straight off. Instead, he turned to Alex, sharing all his emotions in a single look. Unspoken words. Alex replied by putting his hand on his arm, “Next time, I will crush you at Milles Bornes,” he said with a smile. Next time. Because there will be a next time, they both knew it.

They didn’t drive back to Alex’s house, still buzzing with happiness and comfort. Instead, they drove to the Crashdown and sat at a booth, enjoying burgers and fries and milkshakes. And they made plans for the next day. They would go shopping together, Michael deciding whatever he wanted to buy. Afterwards they would enjoy each other and the comfort of Alex’s bed. And once they were well rested, they would go to the Pony. Together.

That word rang differently too. They have been seen together across town, and in the Pony before. But back then, they weren’t together together.

Alex paid for their dinner, insisting that Michael had cooked lunch and had the idea for the library, and had taken care of him for the last 24 hours.

As they left the diner, saying goodbye to Arturo, their fingers found themselves entwined, and they walked to Michael’s truck, hand in hand, without a care for the world.

That day, even though it followed a very traumatising event, was one of the best days they ever had. They learned a new dance, and they couldn’t wait to get home to continue it. After all, they had time ahead of them.

[cosmicclownboy]

hi- why don't you like Maria?

Oh lord.

Where do I even begin with Maria.

Season 1

Makes a joke about Alex's secret relationship being with Wyatt and finding it funny- (Wyatt who is an abusive racist dude who commits hate crimes and bear in mind she knows Alex was abused for being gay) IT'S GROSS.

Speaks about Alex's secret relationship guy being his home to Alex and literally feels his hopefulness because it is part of her alien ability and continues to pursue Michael in s2.

Maria (straight) outs Michael to Liz. That's not okay on any level.

When Liz tells Maria to speak to Alex before doing anything she ignores the advice and does what she wants.

She's really smug about Michael picking/pursuing her like she won.

Season 2

Pursues Michael at a funeral in front of Alex without talking to him.

Makes Michael's loved ones husband funeral about a relationship status

Slut shames a random woman who makes out with Michael when they were never exclusive

Enters a relationship with Michael where he has to be exclusive but she doesn't because she doesn't believe he could be faithful. That's reeks of harmful biphobia stereotypes.

Ignores Alex the whole time UNTIL she needs something.

When she appears at Alex's door she says they are even. AKA comparing Alex not telling her a secret that wasn't his to share to her pursuing the love of his life in front of him without any empathy and ignoring the whole time.

Bitches to Alex about Liz and wanting fuck all to do with her. Alex has to remind her Liz has a dead boyfriend and is struggling cause Maria only has Maria vision and lacks empathy for her 'best friends'.

Uses her mom's laptop to get the scope on Alex/Michael's relationship which reads 100% manipulative. She even says Michael is pushing you away and then proceeds to encourage the narrative where Michael pushes Alex away because she suddenly wants Michael. And of course Alex is supportive she recognises he lacks self worth and rolls over him.

Beginning of 2x06 she tries to set up Forlex to get Alex away from Michael. Once again manipulative.

Tries to make Alex feel guilty for being gay in 206 because when she was a kid she idealised being with him and had to come up with a whole new plan. He grew up in an abusive household you know that....It's not okay to say that. You know how much internalised homophobia he has.

When saying he's had good relationships provides only examples of relationships with women......................HE IS GAY.

Asks him if he would change being gay.......jfc.

Alex tearfully saying he dissociates with women because he clearly forced himself to out of internalised phobia, Maria takes it to mean she has a chance. She thinks she's the exception since a touch starved abuse victim liked to be touched by her in high school. That doesn't = consent.

When Alex, a whole ass Airforce Captain tells her it's unsafe to stay at the creepo's place she acts all I am feminist about it and this results in Alex being stabbed and Michael getting whacked on the head.

Earlier in the episode she whinges to Alex about Michael kissing another woman in front of her and how cruel it was and then proceeds to kiss Michael in front of Alex KNOWING how he feels for Michael.

In THAT scene it's clear she notices Michael's emotions towards Alex and is insecure about it. She uses Malex's feelings for each other to her advantage. She's chasing the fantasy of getting with Alex. These are two highly traumatised queer men who struggle to say no because they spent their lives in abusive environments.

Neither Michael or Alex were in a position to consent to sex that night Michael is concussed from a whack on the head . Alex has lost a lot of blood and is completely out of it. And neither would ever initiate that situation. Not to mention the assumption Michael would be down because he's bi is so harmful as a stereotype.

"I think she’s cool with her decision. She wanted some answers, so subconsciously there was an emotional comfort she needed. But she also had a little bit of an agenda. She needed some decisions made about the status of their relationships, so she thought, “Let’s throw everything against the wall and see where it lands.” I think she was just wondering if they made any progress on that front. She said it was OK for their feelings to be out in the open, but let’s just voice them for what they are. As we saw, Michael stepped up and was like, “No, I still love you and I’m with you.” Secretly, that’s what Maria was hoping for. By suggesting a threesome, she’s was basically telling Michael, “Make your choice… and I hope it’s me.” this is what Heather said about the scene. So not only was it coercive and such but she used her best friend like that with no care or empathy whatsoever. It's disgraceful.

The next day both Michael and Alex are confused by what the fuck happened. Alex due to his C-PTSD completely dissociates from the situation and Michael attempts to laugh it off despite him being hella confused. The only person who isn't confused is Maria who is listening to them from inside.

When Michael comes in she turns on the tears just in case he does want Alex afterwards. Bear in mind she is a psychic who can feel everything and she assumed Michael was going to go after Alex. Doesn't that say it all. SHE KNOWS MICHAEL IS IN LOVE WITH ALEX AND VICE VERSA. She does not care, because at the end of the day this is what she wants. She wants to win. She wants to treat Michael like this trophy that she can show off to people I got the great Michael Guerin not a relationship guy to date me.

When Michael wants to have emotional conversations she shuts it down for sex. The entirety of the relationship it has to be her way or the high way. She also recognises fairly on his abandonment issues and plays upon it, reads manipulative.

When Michael who has lost his mom and brother in the span of a few months asks Maria to be more careful about her abilities she doesn't listen. And ultimately breaks up with Michael when she can't get what she wants from him which is a yes man who will do what she says and isn't the idealised Michael she wants.

Season 3

Shits on Michael any chance she gets. She's so mean to him and he goes out of his way to look out for her.

Is dismissive of her own health despite the fact that everybody goes out of their way to help her. Liz is in California working on a way to help her. Kyle is risking his job.etc

Is fine with Liz, her best friend losing the love of her life to get a vision to prevent a murder. A vision she's only invested in because apparently in it she blames herself.

Is fine with Max or Kyle dealing with the guilt of her death had Michael not saved her.

Shoves Michael and belittles him because he's stronger then her. Infers he just sits on his ass and does nothing therefore does not care about anything....rude. There's also a weird superiority complex that her power is more important then Michaels or any of pod squad for that matter.

Creates a situation that is so bad that Kyle risks his doctors licence to give her adrenaline. Just take an ice bath or something there are a 1000 ways to give yourself adrenaline without risking your life and risking others.

Doesn't thank or acknowledge what Liz is doing for her honey has spent a FULL YEAR of her life trying to help and your just like yeah I'll let her soulmate die for my visions.

Emotionally guilts Isobel for not hanging out with her despite the fact she's hated her for two seasons and now has just randomly decided she wants to know......okay

This idea that Maria is suddenly lonely when she's the second of the main cast (first being Kyle) to have scenes with all the mains by Monday. Literally everyone is there at her beck and call but Maria is lonely??? IT DOESN'T ADD UP. Everyone's up her arse 9/10 how is she lonely everyone expresses concern and care for her ALL THE DAMN TIME. She's also narratively never had scenes that give the connotation that she is lonely. Michael has scenes that connotate he is lonely. Max and Alex do too. Maria has yet to have scenes that give the connotation of feeling lonely or depressed.

Maria comparing the alien siblings to her and feeling left out when she acts superior to them and they are literally siblings. Literally every character is somewhat left out with Pod Squad they've lived their lives assuming it's just them three against the world it's not a personal attack.

Maria is 1/8 alien at best so diluted genetically it doesn't show up and somehow she believes she has the capability of the aliens who are 100%. Say you have French DNA you don't expect to speak French suddenly.

This whole Maria never does wrong narrative and it's empowering that she's doing all of this just feels like a crock of shit tbh.

She reads like a 2000's movie mean girl.

All of my bullet points are why I don't like h Maria and it's not biased because I'm a so and so fan. Narratively she just wins up doing shitty things to Michael and Alex the most.

[goodomensblog]

Afterward - Part 17

A Good Omens Choose Your Own Adventure Fic

Here’s how it works:

I’ll write a scene.

At the end of each scene, you’ll be presented with 2-3 options for what the characters will choose to do next.

Comment or reblog to vote for your choice. I’ll count all votes after the first 24 hours after each update is posted.

Read: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13, part 14, part 15, part 16

(#2 definitely won - but #4 was a pretty close second, so we’re doing the classic punch and run!)

Afterward - - - Part 17

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Entropy, rising up, tilts its head and smiles a wide, infinitely deep grin. Pale, ephemeral tendrils squirm where the creature’s head and neck are rapidly reconnecting.

Gabriel has picked up the sword and is twisting it up.

Beelzebub, however, beats him to the punch. Literally.

“Mine,” is all Beelzebub manages, a low, rasping shout. Pushing roughly in front of the archangel, Beelzebub winds a bloodied fist back and strikes.

Their knuckles smack between its eyes - and with a wet sounding squelch, the head which hadn’t yet fully re-attached, flies off Entropy’s shoulders.

This time, however, Entropy seems to retain consciousness, and the head screeches in outrage as it careens across the room.

“Shoo, bitch,” Beelzebub spits.

“My angels,” the head shrieks, rolling across the floor. “Your master commands you! Attack!”

From the top of the courtyard, where tiled roofs curve above stone carved archways, movement draws Beelzebub’s gaze up.

Angels line the tile rooftop, their formidable white wings spread wide. In the place where the angels’ eyes should be, dark, sunken pools hauntingly stare.

From behind Beelzebub, Gabriel makes a low noise of distress.

Beelzebub scans the faces. There are none they readily recognize - Michael and Uriel, at least, are absent. But surely most of the dark eyed angels are - or were - under Gabriel’s command.

“No…” the archangel breathes.

Forcibly ignoring the pain they feel radiating off Gabriel in cold, nauseating waves, Beelzebub shakes their head and, squeezing their hands into fists, cracks their knuckles one by one.

“What are they?” Aziraphale asks, horror lacing his words.

The first angel steps from the rooftop. Where it lands, stone splinters around its feet. From its eyes, black ichor drips, trailing like tears down its pure, celestial skin. It takes a second step, and the floor cracks anew.

“That,” Crowley says, speaking up from the back, “looks like an angel on steroids. Bloody evil steroids.”

Another angel drops. Then another. Gray dust from pulverized stone rises in an ominous cloud.

“I - I have to-” Gabriel is muttering, and Beelzebub can feel him moving behind them, probably making up his mind to do something stupid.

“Yeah,” Beelzebub says, surveying the hoard of freaky angels. “Fuck this noise.”

Turning right the hell around, Beelzebub grabs Gabriel roughly by the arm. 

When he doesn’t move - like the absolute asshole he is - Beelzebub grits their teeth and yanks, violently hauling the lead-limbed archangel with them. When they look up and see that Aziraphale and Crowley are still standing there, waiting, they yell, “Oi! Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum! Fucking move!”

Crowley and Aziraphale retreat through the doorway, but go no further.

Beelzebub is panting, blood from a cut they didn’t even realize they had dripping into their eyes, and the room is tilting as a frankly annoying whine picks up in their ears - but this is no time to pass out, so Beelzebub doesn’t. 

At least Gabriel is finally moving; Beelzebub, all too happy to release him, shoves the archangel through the door. 

Upon crossing the threshold, Beelzebub is hastily elbowed out of the way by Crowley; Aziraphale, bracing a hand on the wall, traces glowing symbols on the floor.

“What’s-”

“That’s why we were waiting,” Crowley snaps.

Beelzebub reflects that if the room were spinning any less, they would have happily smacked that smug look off his face.

Instead, they crouch, bracing their hands on their knees.

Aziraphale straightens up with a satisfied nod. “That’ll do the trick.”

Then Crowley is swinging the door closed. Hand on the handle, he melts the lock. 

“If Aziraphale did what I think he did, we do not want to be here when they cross that threshold,” Crowley says.

“I did,” Aziraphale says with a grim smile.

Gabriel, who Beelzebub thinks is looking more like his usual insufferable self by the minute, claps his hands together. “Then let’s fucking go!”

“Right!” Crowley crows, pointing at Gabriel, “Your illicit sneaking out of Heaven door!”

Beelzebub and Aziraphale turn to look at Gabriel.

“Okay it’s really not as weird as he’s making it sound.”

 “It doesn’t matter-” Aziraphale says with a wave, but Beelzebub isn’t listening.

Blinking rapidly, they frown at the black dots blossoming across their vision. They immediately blink harder because they are not going to pass out; It is a fucking bad time for losing consciousness - and besides, they’d honestly rather die than look weak in front of these morons.

Crowley is turning, leading the way, and Beelzebub starts to step after him - when everything takes a sharp and sudden dip. 

And shit - Beelzebub thinks, consciousness slipping as a roaring white noise fills their ears. Blackness is spreading, sweeping across their vision.

They see outstretched, reaching hands - and then darkness swallows them whole.

Reality narrows to individual, isolated moments.

The press of fine, soft as silk fabric against their cheek.

A long hallway lit by a single flickering light.

Aziraphale, pale with purple bruises beneath his eyes, pulling a tapestry aside - pushing a doorway open.

Crowley’s hands cupped around that strange, blue flame.

Then white light - at the end of a long, dark tunnel.

Beelzebub stiffens, crying out in protest - because they know the saying about light and tunnels, and they straight up refuse to let that prick Death lay those frigid hands on them now.

This is followed by the soft, hesitant brush of fingers over their forehead and a whisper-soft murmur. “Don’t worry. It’s not that kind of tunnel.”

Again, darkness.

And then Crowley is exclaiming, shouting excitedly, and Beelzebub squints their eyes open to glaring sunlight - and a sleek black car, parked on what appears to be a random London street corner. 

When someone swings one of the rear doors open, Beelzebub has a sense of deja vu as they are laid down on black leather seats.

Voices drone, someone shifts beside them, and the car awakens with a reassuring purr; Beelzebub’s tired eyes close.

- - - 

Brushing his hands over the steering wheel, Crowley sits in the Bentley, taking a moment to enjoy the car’s energetic rumble. She doesn’t handle long periods of idleness very well. And though Crowley hasn’t been gone all that long, he imagines it must have been rather demoralizing to have been abandoned on a lonesome countryside road. He’ll have to make sure she’s still in working shape. 

“Just cause I gave you a little vacation,” Crowley says, tapping the dashboard admonishingly, “is no excuse for any slacking off, you understand?”

The car rumbles, and Crowley sighs, rolling his eyes. “See? I leave you for half a day and now I’m getting back talk.”

“Can we please just fucking go?” Gabriel snaps.

A glance in the rear-view mirror reveals the altogether unpleasant sight of Gabriel’s frowning face. 

The archangel is pressed up against the door, his large arms folded impractically in front of him. 

Beelzebub, in the few minutes after they’d been set down, had somehow completely rotated, and now they stretch out, arms flung out in either direction. Their booted feet are kicked up - one jabbing Gabriel’s side and the other shoved up against his face.

The archangel glowers.

From the passenger seat, Aziraphale clears his throat.

Crowley’s attention is immediately diverted.

Aziraphale is battered. Deep scratches scatter over the entirety of his person, and a bone deep exhaustion shows in his overall pallor and the bags like dark bruises gathering beneath his light eyes. 

Crowley has the impulse to stroke a thumb beneath that gentle gaze and burn a miracle to soothe some of the exhaustion marring his skin. 

He doesn’t.

Because he filled Aziraphale’s veins with demon blood, and Crowley isn’t entirely sure Aziraphale won’t come to resent him for it. 

The desperate transfusion had worked. Aziraphale is here. That is what matters. But the fact that the cost of this gamble - the cost of mixing that which was never meant to join - has yet to reveal itself, leaves Crowley deeply on edge. 

“Dear,” Aziraphale says, mercifully interrupting Crowley’s rapidly spiraling thoughts. “We fled the bookshop earlier because we believed we were dealing with a threat who knew us, personally. Entropy does not know us. And I presume that it does not know where I live.”

“...you want to go home, don’t you?”

“Yes I want to go home!” Aziraphale says in a rush, hands folded, his fingers twisting together. “It’s been a really long day.”

Crowley considers, drumming his fingers on the wheel. “I suppose we could ward the hell out of it.”

Aziraphale is eagerly nodding, “I already have a good few around the foundation as it is.”

“Is it defensible?” Gabriel asks.

“Better,” Aziraphale replies. “It’s hidden.”

“Though adding a few defenses wouldn’t hurt,” Crowley adds.

“As long as we get off the damned street,” Gabriel says with a weary sigh.

“That, we can do,” Crowley says, shifting the car into drive. 

“Wait!” Aziraphale says, grabbing Crowley’s arm. “First, we need food, Crowley.”

“....right this second?”

“As soon as possible. You do realize that we should avoid using powerful miracles at the moment, right?”

Crowley glances in the rear-view mirror, only somewhat mollified to see that Gabriel is also staring at Aziraphale with an expression of blatant confusion.

“Er - yes? I mean, we don’t want to go around putting beacons on our heads,” Crowley replies. “But what in the world does this have to do with food?”

Aziraphale is staring at him like he might be stupid - which he’s not. Right?

Crowley checks the rear-view mirror again.

Gabriel is squinting at Aziraphale. “Aziraphale. What are you talking about?”

Aziraphale looks between them, mouth agape.

From the backseat, Beelzebub groans. 

“Angel,” Beelzebub says, cracking an eye reluctantly open, “They’re both idiots. Don’t… strain their brains.”

Aziraphale glances back, relief evident. “You know what I’m talking about.”

“Of course I know what you’re talking about!” Beelzebub replies, and the other eye opens to a menacing slit. “Food strengthens your bloody corporation. You. Are. Living. In. It. So fucking feed it. The stronger your corporation is - the stronger you are.”

Aziraphale is nodding vigorously. “And we are all very injured. Beelzebub especially. A good meal will help kick start our angelic - and demonic - healing.”

“Ah,” is all Crowley manages.

“Honestly, dear. You really didn’t know that?”

Crowley, who will frankly never admit that he played hookie during the body orientation seminar to check out the strange angel he’d seen walking up on Eden’s wall, adjusts his glasses and shrugs. “I’m a demon. What’s the archangel’s excuse?”

“Corporeal bodies are not my department.”

Beelzebub blows a raspberry.

“Since you’re awake, your highness - mind moving your foot out of my face?”

Beelzebub’s only reply is a long, deep snore.

Crowley shuts both of them up by jerking the car into motion.

Food it is!” Crowley says, foot sinking satisfyingly down on the gas pedal. “And I know just where to take us.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The angels and demons have managed to escape Heaven and flee from Entropy. Before holing up at Aziraphale’s bookshop and deciding their next move - Aziraphale insists they get something to eat. Crowley decides the best place to get a couple of angels and demons lunch is….

The grocery store! Crowded around a single cart, they will shuffle round the aisles of the local grocery mart, exploring the strange wonders of fluorescent illuminated human cuisine. 

The Ritz! Sitting elbow to elbow around a pristine white tablecloth, they will be sipping at champagne and making awkward small talk. Probably nothing will catch fire.

The drive thru! Packed in the Bentley, Crowley will drive them all to the greasiest of fast food establishments. With all three speaking at once, Crowley will attempt to order.

Please comment or reblog to vote! :)

Part 18

[kaplanwrites]

02.6 Michael

Part1. Meeting.

For the last 40 hours Tim’s going only on caffeine and taurine from energetics, empty cans of which piles in trash bins +and that probably will go to the chapter where Kon calls Dick to take over the meeting because Tim sleeps exhausted after rehearsing his major defend+

He probably should sleep, but he just defended his minor, and he’s unable to move anywhere himself. He doesn’t want to try to resemble a human being right now, to be a responsible parent to his - beloved, but much too noisy - toddler, to check the fridge for milk and cupboards for cookies. Everyone coax him, so he tumbles down the street to the local bar which is surprisingly more fancy that any bar placed near campus ought to be, and crumples down at the nearest table, bracketed by fellow red-eyed caffeine-overdosed pre-grads and TAs.

After a couple of drinks (Irish coffee, don’t hold on whiskey, double sugar), he spots that one guy at the bar. The guy… he looks exactly like him; the buzz-cut, and wide shoulders, hair black in a yellowish light. He sits at a barstool, shapely legs clad in too-tight bootcuts, and sips on something creamy - is that a milkshake? He turns head to ask the barman something, and as light catches on a thick rim of glasses, so does Tim’s breath. He probably makes some sort of sound, because girls notice his attention, and one of them - Trish, probably - heard that The Guy’s name was Mike, and Mark, who actually lives at the campus, says that they heard that The Guy’s dishes out to cover his tuition.

And Tim’s wouldn’t do that just to relax, but then Mike turns to stand up, and his eyes glint blue, and he even has a slight curl in hair, and Tim _wants_.

It is convenient, really,  no strings attached as they say,  and nothing would happen if he’ll be covert,  and if Tim is capable of anything - it’s stealth.

So after Mike leaves to the bathroom, Tim drops his contact card on his barstool and makes sure to lock eyes, to flash trademarked Wayne’s smile at Mark, when he returns.

***

Part2. Sex.

Mike calls, and they meet at the hotel and they kiss, and Tim stops and starts to backpedal because “he shouldn't be here, he has kid, and Mike - it's Michael, actually, - probably has STD’s, and they argue a bit, and then laugh, because Michael is indignant and Tim’s nervous, and Michael make monthly checkups, and anyways his clients are improbable to carry something, and Tim wonders why he would do it, and Michael wonders why TIM would do it, he’s gorgeous and rich can probably pick up anybody anywhere.

Tim says that people on campus know Mike’s occupation, but no one knows his clients and that what Tim needs.

They kiss some more and gropes each other a little until Tim’s phone goes off, and he needs to go. He pays the whole, and for the room.

***

Second time they’re in a fancier hotel, with decent-sized bed, and it’s midday and Tim wants to watch him strip, and to touch himself, and they fumble on bed, Michael naked, and Tim fully clothed, and Tim fucks him from behind until both of them sated and spent, and kisses Michael shoulders before leaving cash on the table and leaving the room.

Michael’s eyes are actually hazel, but it doesn’t matter.

***

Michael offers to rub his back, or to get a long bath together,  when on a fourth or fifth time Tim actually chooses hotel near city center, fancy and with spacious bathroom - because Tim’s always dressed in at least one layer, and stiff and rigid underneath and Michael  begins to suspect some kind of disfigure under clothes.

They talk, well, Michael talk at Tim as Tim sucks him off while spreading him with fingers, that it will be okay to show anything he hides under clothes, that it will be good to let go, and suddenly Tim gets up with an obscene pop, and Michael’s eyes want to cross, but he soldiers on and holds Tim’s intense gaze as he begins to undress.

And then Michael just stares at the scars that appear with each discarded garment, pale skin crisscrossed with long gashes and peppered with barely visible burn marks, and Tim says it’s sort of fun to have father and two older brothers addicted to extreme, and then he chuckles when Michael's eyes slips to the puckered bullet-hole, and says that that’s the price for charity in Gotham.

And then Michael is too preoccupied with remembering watching on tv a shooting of a  philanthropist teenager,  who then spent two years on crutches,  with the thought of ‘how couldn’t I figured earlier that dark gotham and gorgeous was anyone but a Wayne’, and then he’s too busy getting properly fucked.

***

Tim’s careful not to meet Michael after visible injuries, but he makes sure to visit him every other week. He has ready stories about mountain bikes and rock climbing.

Afterward, he feels more focused, and he lashes out at people (at Kon) less, and, besides, he actually enjoys Michael’s presence.

***

Part3. Wrong name.

He holds a Wayne Tech Gala, and he gives a ticket to Kon, as a truce. He thinks, maybe Kon chooses to go with him.

Kon brings someone; she’s not even a name, she is blond and beautiful, like Cassie, and she is starry eyes, and happy to be here just because it’s luxurious - unlike Cassie.

Tim drowns his bourbon and prays that Ted will manage their little devil for one night. Kon doesn’t even have the decency to look smug, he just shakes hands, and smiles, and visibly relaxes when his plus-one leaves to gossip; and Tim isn't even jealous or disappointed, he’s just angry.

That night he makes Michael fuck him, and maybe he’s moaning the wrong name all the way through.

***

One morning Tim’s in the shower, and Michael’s barely awake, and there are Wayne tech blueprints scattered on the table, and those designs are awesome, and Michael cannot keep his eyes off them until Tim’s out of the shower. And:

‘I'm sorry, the designs of that power source, it’s beautiful, even more than I’ve anticipated’ - ‘You know what those are?’ - ‘You kidding me? I’m in electrical engineering, that’s all we talked about at campus after last ‘expo’’

They speak geek, and Tim tentatively proposes to get him an internship in the WayneTech. They visit once together, and Michael is absolutely enamored with the lead engineer, Cecil Walters.

At the first day of the internship, Michael comes up to him and asks him out to a date later, when he will be able to afford to take Cecil to a decent place. Everybody in the lab is scandalized, except for Tim (who is amused) and Cecil (who think it’s hilarious). Worse: Michael’s absolutely serious.

***

One time Michael comes with bruises in interesting places. Couple others he refuses to come at all. Tim sees him at the campus, with a split lip and marks on throat.

Tim makes Michael’s handsy client disappear, and Michael doesn’t ask questions about his dean sudden retirement.

***

Part 4. Truce.

They speak, mostly after sex, and Michael says that he’s going to lose this job. Tim frowns on this phrasing but keeps silent. Michael keeps explaining, that he was doing it to get through college, and it was nice and easy money and that once he’s finished, he wouldn’t need that anymore, especially with WT internship. And anyway he already got rid of most of his clientele, but Tim was always welcome to call, and is still, but only, like, a booty call. For free. Because Michael liked Tim’s dick that much, and also was somewhat addicted to this hotel’s jacuzzis’

‘So it’s not about Dr. Walters?’ Tim asks, after.

Michael looks up incredulously from where he’s pulling his socks on.

‘Huh, nah, it’s not about him yet. When I’ll finally get my hands on that genius of a man, no jacuzzi in the world would be able to separate us’

Tim shakes his head and actually laughs.

***

Tim calls him the next afternoon, and it’s unusual. Michael checks if he forgot something at the hotel, or in the car, but Tim’s frighteningly careful with that. They meet in the half-empty bar, and Tim says, that he wouldn’t be able to keep Michael’s company during long nights anymore.

Michael turns his smile away to the window, and Tim again astonished of the striking resemblance - the rounded jaw, thick neck - Michael’s bathed in the evening sun, haloed curly hair, and eyelashes golden in the slanted beams.

‘Tell me it’s not about you’re turned off by the free sex,’ he sips contentedly his latte, ‘And about your blind guy’.

Tim’s brow pitches, and then he pushes to put a smile on, cold and fake. ‘Why do you think he’s blind?’

‘One should be positively blind not to see a guy that hot under one’s nose. He’s that second dad to your kid, isn't he?’

Tim remembers a photo in his wallet, with two of them, Eli and Kon, and nods. ‘Yeah… and he... He basically forbade me to keep seeing you.’ He chuckles, the smile genuine now. ‘He actually caught me red-handed yesterday’.

‘Huh,’ Michael shakes his head. He wasn’t sure how those relationships worked; he was sure that Tim was too busy for anything between his kid and his job, and his mad brothers and this thing Michael and Tim has. Had. But apparently, Tim also managed to nurse this crush on the other dad - presumably the straight one. ‘So, did he got jealous?’

Tim nods, then shakes head ‘it’s not like that, it’s…’ He shrugs.

‘...complicated.’ Michael finished for him, taking cliche from his mouth. ‘Well he better be good for you in bed, or I will need to step up again, and you know, I was going to get serious with our department head.’ Michael huff's, pretending to be exasperated. Tim chuckles again, now mostly for the joke’s sake.

‘Tim, you know I would know that you’re not having any, we’re going to work in the same place in two months’

‘I’ll be fine, geez. And it will be Mr. Wayne two months from now, so you better get used to it’

Michael rolls his eyes and finishes his coffee in one gulp then hops from the barstool, leaves a tenner on a bar for their coffees. They shake hands, half-awkwardly, then Michael half-hugs Tim.

‘See you later, Mr. Wayne. And Good fuck.’

[mikeyhatesit113]

forever and never: Chapter 12

My Toyota Matrix speeds down the highway, leaving the New York City skyline behind us in the rear view mirror. Janie sits in the passenger seat, admiring the engagement ring I had given to her just hours before in Times Square.

Ahead of us, the sun sinks slowly toward the horizon. Everything about that day had been perfect, and it was sending us off with a beautiful sunset. I felt proud as Janie smiled genuinely at her ring, knowing in my heart that I had treated her like a true princess that day.

“It’s beautiful,” she says. “I love you.”

I look over at her with a smile as wide as the Brooklyn Bridge itself.

“I love you too,” I say, pride swelling in my chest.

“Forever and ever,” she says.

“Plus a day,” I whisper.

2 Years Later

Janie and I step onto our front porch step, anticipation building in my chest. I had not been home in more than 3 weeks, and I had no idea what awaited me on the other side of the front door.

I had spent sleepless nights at my grandmother’s house, mental images torturing me during the night. Wicked animations produced by an imagination hell-bent on punishing me. Images that took place in the very dwelling I was about to re-enter for the first time in over 21 days.

Janie opens the door, and I take in the scene before me.

The smell hit me first. The scent was unfamiliar, as if something else had inhabited the place since my abrupt departure.

Stale cologne?

What was more, the furniture had been rearranged. The kitchen looked different, decorated with additional chairs and flat surfaced stands.

It was at that moment when I noticed that Janie was studying me, awaiting my reaction to the many changes to the place I had previously called home.

This, however, did not look like home. This was a foreign place, accented by a foreign occupant who was hiding in plain sight.

But what, or who, I could not put my finger on.

I forced a smile, hugging Janie. Though I did not recognize this environment, another part of me desperately wanted to call it home again.

Janie gave me a tour, which proved to be an orientation into her new world. A universe she had constructed in my absence, but a galaxy I was almost certain that she did not build alone.

“Wow,” I mumbled as we trudged up the stairs to the bedrooms. Brock’s room looked almost untouched, but James’ room yielded a big difference.

There was now a ball python resting in a tank beside his TV.

“Who’s snake?” I asked.

“Steppenwolf’s,” Janie said anxiously. “He brought it as a gift for the boys,” she quickly explained.

“He stayed here?” I asked, a familiar irritation arising in my chest, despite my best efforts.

“Only when the boys wanted him to, for a sleepover,” she replied.

“Oh,” I said. I immediately felt trapped again, like I was going against everything I had tried to stand for. I felt outraged. I felt like I had been violated.

I felt sick.

“And uh, where did he sleep?” I asked.

“Downstairs on the couch,” she said. “He didn’t stay here often.”

“And where did you sleep when you went to his house?” I asked.

“On his couch or in a spare room,” she replied as a matter-of-factly.

I wanted to believe her. I needed to believe her. It was the only way this could work.

“Ok...” I spoke, trying to shove her truth down my throat.

I hoped to God that he didn’t see the inside of our bedroom, which in fact, had also been transformed during my absence.

My brand new queen-size bed was long gone, currently locked up in a dark storage unit. In its place was a twin bed with a frame that creaked, and a mattress with springs that groaned. Additionally, the right side of our room was lit up with a red light that glowed from another large reptile tank which housed a lizard.

That night, I slept warily beside her in that crimson-lit room. I laid awake, wondering what I didn’t know. Wondering what she wasn’t telling me. Wondering if I was making the right decision.

I certainly didn’t have the support from my friends and family, who were incredulous that I returned to her embrace.

“I just want your support and friendship right now,” I texted my friend one day. “You got it,” he wrote back.

His response was not what I was looking for, but did he have the right words to make me feel like I was doing the right thing?

No one did, but in the effort of leaving no stone unturned, everyone’s opinion could not matter.

This was my journey, and no one else’s footsteps or words could complete the distance for me. I had to do it myself, whether it was 3 days, 3 weeks, or forever and ever, just like we had always promised eachother.

Logistically, the tricky task was moving the right amount of stuff back home to Janie and I’s place. I was not ready to empty my room at my Grandmother’s house, nor did I touch my storage unit.

They had been safe zones, and as happy as I was to be back home, I was still rather uncomfortable. I wanted to take it slow, if there was a such thing for a married couple.

Of course, there were other things returned. Janie drove with me to my grandmother’s house one Sunday afternoon to grab one of the things she had missed the most; her Lancer.

In the Lancer’s absence, her father had bought her a $300 mid-1990’s Oldsmobile that had an oil leak problem. It did not have a 6-disc CD player, but it did have a cassette player with cracked vinyl seats.

Call it vintage appeal, if you will. A time machine back to the 1990’s on 4 wheels.

I remember handing Janie the car key to the Lancer and her excitedly hopping in the driver seat. “I love this car,” she said, taking in the interior all over again as if it were the first time ever.

When the boys came home from their father’s house that evening, it was the reunion I was looking forward to most. I hugged them both, telling them both how much I had missed them. As far as I was concerned, I was back for good. And they’d never feel that pain again.

I did have unfinished business, however. I had seen enough photos of the boys sporting fedora hats, indicating that Steppenwolf had bought them their very own wacky hats. I did not appreciate these photos, so one afternoon, I found his Facebook.

I simply sent him this:

:)

It wasn’t long before he answered me.

“Hello?” he responded.

I couldn’t resist myself.

“I want to thank you for trying to take care of a family that wasn’t yours, and I hope you kept the receipt from whatever costume shop you bought those ridiculous hats from.”

“That purple sports car will never fill the void.”

“How does it feel to be an empty old man?”

“What’s wrong, Steppenwolf? Answer me.”

Steppenwolf did not respond, and I was blocked shortly thereafter.

Janie, however, was not happy that I had attacked Steppenwolf. When I told her about what I had sent him, she told me that she already knew I had done so, and that she just wanted me to leave it alone.

Nothing had happened between them. He had been just a friend.

Upon our reunion, Janie and I agreed to participate in marriage counseling. One October evening, our pastor showed up to our home and ate a nice dinner with us. Afterwards, with the cool, Autumn air flowing through the screen door near the kitchen table, Janie and I sat across from each other as our pastor looked on from the side.

We had each written down our concerns on a piece of paper, and it didn’t take long before the dialogue spun out of control.

In my endeavor to overlook so much and ignore so many little details, I could not bring myself to believe that she hadn’t lied to me. That she hadn’t kissed one of my best friends.

That she hadn’t betrayed me.

That I wasn’t her fool.

I guess in the end, even though I felt worthless, I owed myself some semblance of the truth.

I felt the conversation turn against me, and our pastor was soon siding with Janie about my paranoia. He hadn’t lived the nights I had, and he hadn’t seen the dark shadows drift in and out of our lives for the past 2 years.

Specters of betrayal. Phantoms that she denied ever existed.

Ghosts and goblins that haunted the life I thought we’d build.

Secrets that wouldn’t stay dead. Rotting corpses that wouldn’t stay buried.

“Michael,” our pastor chuckled. “You have these...construction crews...in your head,” he spoke. “And they build things out of these thoughts you have,” he said, laughing softly. Janie sat beside him, smirking at me.

I’ll never forget the smug look on her face as she stared at me, enjoying the fact that another human being had taken her at her word.

Nothing happened. He’s angry. He’s paranoid.

I couldn’t take it. I had tried to suppress it, bury it, destroy it, even...but the rage had returned. I stood up abruptly from my chair, anger coursing through my veins.

So many friends and family had contributed to my mental health over the past weeks, and this is how I repaid them? This is how I rewarded myself?

Being mocked by my pastor and my wife during marriage counseling?

“You sit there,” I bellowed, pointing a finger at her. “Laughing at me, looking down on me from your pedestal? Trust me, hunny, I’m looking down on you. I have nothing for you.”

I went to walk away, but my pastor called me back to the table.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Ekim,” he said. “Where are you going? Get back to this table.”

I returned to the table slowly, staring at Janie. Her smirk was gone, replaced by a poisonous look of revulsion. I echoed her emotion.

We truly were toxic.

Of course, that counseling session was the start of the downward slope. More odd occurrences around the house sparked more questions and suspicions.

Like the Earl Grey Teabags on the counter, and the Syracuse hoodie I found in the wash basket one morning while I was folding clothes.

Janie was not a tea drinker, nor was she a Syracuse fan. Janie wasn’t home at that time, so I texted her a picture of the hoodie with the simple question, “What’s this?”

“Uh, a Syracuse hoodie,” she responded.

“I get that. Why do you have a Syracuse hoodie?” I texted.

“My family lived in Syracuse for a little bit when I was a little girl,” she texted back.

This was a blatant lie. Her family had never lived in Syracuse, much less another county.

Janie and I hobbled on, but our legs were giving out. The fighting soon made a vengeful comeback, and our tempers boiled over one rainy day.

I struggled with the lies. I struggled with the stories. I struggled with the person I had become. I hated him. I hated what I saw in the mirror. I hated his guts.

I hated what I did to Jay, now that I was at some capacity to understand it years later.

My mood became tense, and the suspicions only increased.

In the kitchen one day, we locked horns. Janie was making dinner when an argument started. It would be futile to try to tell you exactly regarding what, as I cannot remember due to the violent maelstrom we were trapped in. The reasons for conflict and discord were abundant and vicious. Pick one.

After a venomous word exchange, Janie slammed the casserole dish down on the stove top, cracking it. I turned away and marched out the front door into the pouring rain. I unlocked my car, sobbing as I flung open the door and sat in the driver seat.

I had not noticed Janie following me, and she came into my view as I shoved my key into the ignition.

“Where are you going?” she pleaded.

I didn’t plan to say it, and to be honest, I didn’t even know I felt it like I did.

But it came from the heart.

“I fucking hate my life,” I cried, looking her in the eyes. She stared back at me pitifully, the cold rain drops falling on both of us as we took each other in.

Who were we? What had we become?

How had our house of cards collapsed like this? We thought we were the exception.

We hobbled on.

One sunny Saturday morning before Halloween, we were ready to go to a pumpkin patch. However, before walking out the door, I noticed that James was apprehensive.

Everyone else had walked out to the car, and I seized the moment to address James alone.

“James, what’s wrong?” I asked, walking up to him and kneeling down.

“I’m afraid you’re going to leave again,” he said, looking at the ground.

I was taken aback, but I was encouraged all the same.

“James, I love you, your brother, and your mommy very much,” I said. “I love you, and I’m not going to leave you,” I assured him, pulling him into a tight hug.

“I promise, I’m here for good.”

After Halloween, we saw another November 1st arrive. Our anniversary, a day we hailed for years as the day we found eachother.

A day, 5 years earlier, that changed both of our lives forever.

A day I had progressively become more and more ashamed of.

I gave her the gift I had gotten her, a flashy trinket with the engraving, “Forever and ever”.

As soon as she opened it, I could tell she was expecting more. Another disappointing gift on another day we had no reason to celebrate.

Little did I know, that November 1st would be our last.

This is where I’m going to ask you to dig in your memory bank and pull out a date. A date I asked you to remember many chapters ago.

A date with more significance and karma than you could guess.

November 4th.

Welcome to the End.

“Passion or coincidence, Once prompted you to say, "Pride will tear us both apart". Well, now pride's gone out the window, Cross the rooftops, Run away... Left me in the vacuum of my heart.

What is happening to me? Crazy, some'd say. Where is my friend when I need you most? Gone away.”

Duran Duran “Ordinary World”

NOTE: Though this is my side of the story, including my own personal recollections and opinions, the reader should not consider this note anything other than a work of literature. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

[foreverfangirlalways]

The Astronomer and The Florist (Chapter 6)

Summery: Anxiety over feelings, dissing Michael, and FLIRTING!!!

Ships: Analogical & Royality

Warning: really cheesy flirting and a shared hatred for Michael

-let me know if I need to add more warnings-

----

Logan worked diligently until his phone went off. He looked over at his phone and saw that there was only 15 minutes until he was able to go home. He also saw that Virgil had just texted him.

Logan looks down at his map, and figured he could complete it tomorrow. He was so filled by anger and hatred that it was already 3/4 of the way done.

Logan packed everything up, and then headed for the door. As soon as he was outside he check to see what Virgil texted him.

VIRGIL: Hey Logan. I hope I’m not bothering you at work, but I was just wondering what type of container you want a bouquet put in?

LOGAN: Preferably a toilet or something that would hurt when I break it over his smug, overconfident, insufferable head.

Virgil didn’t respond, and Logan started to wonder if he should have been less harsh. Then his phone deemed.

VIRGIL: Patton said no to the toilets, so how about an ugly vase? That way you don’t feel bad for breaking it???

Logan busted out laughing, instantly growing more fond of Virgil.

LOGAN: That sounds wonderful! I’m sorry, I had a bad day at work. I went to go get your Plus 1 Card for the party, and Michael was there. He said some other rude things that made me upset and then he insulted and made comments about you, and I almost punched him.

VIRGIL: Oh damn Lo! I’m sorry you had such a crappy day, but please don’t get fired on my account. So if you did, I might be able to convince Patton to hire you at the flower shop!

Logan chuckled at that as he walked into his living room. He sat on his couch and realize that he never told Virgil about Professor Sanders.

LOGAN: Actually, I might have a job lined up already.

VIRGIL: Oh? Do tell

VIRGIL: Does the job have anything to do with the ‘thank you’ bouquet?

LOGAN: Yes, as a matter of fact it does. After we had stopped texting last night I contacted my old Astronomy Professor. I told him about what you help me realize, and he said that he is retiring and he’s going to ask the board on Friday if I can be his successor!

VIRGIL: That’s awesome Logan! I’m glad I could help, but please don’t credit me too much. All I did was suggest it.

Logan chuckled at Virgil’s modesty.

LOGAN: Virgil, without you I never would have contacted Professor Sanders, and I never would be able to give Michael his ‘fuck you’ bouquet.

VIRGIL: lol

VIRGIL: This Michael guy sounds like an asshole though

LOGAN: Oh, Michael N. Oshow is the King of assholes

VIRGIL: Wait, I know that name...

Virgil looked over at Patton, who was trying and failing to look like he isn’t reading over Virgil’s shoulder.

“Hey Pat, does the name Michael Oshow ring any bells?”

Patton thought for a minute, and then raised his hand.

“Oh, I know! That’s Elliot’s ex!”

“Ohhh!” Virgil exclaimed, realization covering his face.

VIRGIL: THAT IS ELLIOT’S ASSHOLE OF AN EX!!!

Logan reread the text, trying to think of a time when he overheard Michael talking about an Elliot. Coming up with nothing, he decided to ask Virgil about it.

LOGAN: Um, who’s Elliot?

VIRGIL: Elliot is this really sweet friend of mine who dated Michael. Michael turned out to be a complete douche and treated Elliot awfully. Luckily, with a bit of help, Elliot was able to figure out that they relationship was toxic. Elliot told me that Michael is still a little bitter because Elliot broke up with him, and not the other way around.

LOGAN: That’s truly awful! Since you already know about Michael, and how he can be, if you don’t want to go to the Party anymore I understand.

VIRGIL: Ha! You can’t get rid of me that easily! I don’t care of Michael will be there, I just want to go with you.

Logan smushed his face into a pillow, not caring that no one could see him blushing. He was happy to stay smothering himself until his phone went off again. He quickly picked it up and read the text from Virgil.

VIRGIL: that is, if you still want me to go?

Shit!

LOGAN: Of course I do! Nothing would make me happier, I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable.

VIRGIL: Pshh, I can just punch Michael for you. I’m sure Elliot would love it too, as long as you caught it on video *wink wink*

Logan laughed at Virgil’s antics. LOGAN: are you suggesting that I record you assaulting my bosses nephew?

VIRGIL: Not when you put it like that! That sounds awful!

VIRGIL: I want you to record me punching a guy who is a jerk to you and an asshole ex to a good friend.

LOGAN: well, that actually sounds like it would be amusing.

VIRGIL: Yeah, but how about we stop talking about Michael and start talking about us.

Logan didn’t respond as fast, so Virgil went back over his last text. He then realized something.

VIRGIL: I’m sorry! That sounded awfully presumptuous of me, please don’t be mad!!!

After a minute and a half, Logan started texting back. So Virgil deleted the 5 paragraph apology he had written out, but still copied it, just in case.

LOGAN: Sorry, I was making something to eat. And it’s not presumptuous of you at all. I gave you a bouquet of flowers that meant ‘thank you’ and ‘I like you’, and then proceeded to ask you out on a romantic outing. You said yes, so naturally I wouldn’t mind talking about an ‘us’

Virgil stared at his phone, his mouth hung open. Patton giggled at his expression.

“You better close your mouth or you’ll catch flies!”

Virgil closed his mouth and started texting Logan again.

VIRGIL: You mean that?

LOGAN: Of course. Naturally, I would like to get you know you a bit better first, but I think that you are an attractive, sweet, intelligent, and caring person. And know this after only two days. I would love for our relationship to grow into something more in the future.

Virgil was full on blushing at this point, and smiling like a doofus. He started texting again, and Patton snuck a picture of him.

Patton sent the picture to Logan with the caption-

‘Look how happy you make him! ’

Logan open a text from Patton, who’s number Virgil had given him yesterday as an precaution.

It was a picture of Virgil, smiling one of the most gorgeous smiles Logan had ever seen, with a faint blush across his cheeks. Logan read the caption and Felt an overwhelming sense of happiness erupt in his chest.

PATTON: oh, by the way, you break his heart and all use Roman to find whatever brings you the most joy and all destroy it.

PATTON: I hope you have a nice night and stay safe!

Logan reread those last texts from Patton multiple times. Patton seem like he couldn’t hurt a fly, and now he had Logan slightly terrified of him.

Logan swallowed, and then opened a new text from Virgil.

VIRGIL: I would like that too! I’m super excited to spend time with you at the Party tomorrow, and maybe next time we could go stargazing??

VIRGIL: You could show me the stars from Mind Palace Meadow!

VIRGIL: IF YOU WANT!

VIRGIL: or we could just go get coffee 🤷‍♂️

Logan smiles at his phone, think of just how adorable Virgil is. He knows he has only known hind for two days, but it feels like so much longer.

LOGAN: Why not both? After I get my whole job thing situated, I can show you my favorite spot in the meadow, we’ll go stargazing, and then we can get some coffee afterwards. Or before, whichever you prefer.

Virgil full on squealed. Like, legit squealed. Patton was so shocked that he fell off if his stool.

After making sure Patton is ok, Virgil told him how Logan basically just asked him out on a second date. But, one that felt like it would be considered the first date.

Patton jumped up and down and hugged Virgil. He then sent Virgil home to get some rest!

(Read: He sent Virgil home so he could fangirl to Roman privately.)

Virgil laughed and headed out the door. He then got a thing on his phone, reminding him that he never texted Logan back.

LOGAN: i’m sorry, was that too much too soon?

VIRGIL: NO!

VIRGIL: Sorry, I’m walking home and forgot to text you back. I would love to go stargazing with you. We could get coffee before hand and then go eat breakfast afterwards.

Virgil made it all the way home and into his bedroom before Logan texted him back.

LOGAN: Excellent.

LOGAN: It’s a date then.

Virgil dropped his phone onto his bed and then squealed into his pillows, feeling like a teenage girl but not caring in the slightest.

Taglist-

@five-falseh00ds-ph0nated

@dragonwithproblems

@sanders-sides-with-quinn

@aleiimm

@yikesdodson

@kawaiikat54

@thefingergunsgirl

@nerdycupcake559

@softestvirgil

@teacupfulofstarshine

@impatentpending

[icyharrington]

Is It Wrong? (Michael Langdon X Reader)

SO! a couple months ago, @langdonsrapture and i had some... interesting conversations about stepdad duncan and stepbrother michael, and i ended up agreeing that i’d write a stepbro michael fic if she wrote a stepdad duncan fic. and she wrote her stepdad duncan fic, so..... i present to you, STEPBROTHER MICHAEL! i am so sorry for this foolishness.... (also, this is going to be a multi part series!!) 

plot: michael langdon is a picture-perfect fuckboy, and, lucky for you, he’s also your stepbrother. how will you survive?

warnings: inappropriate relationships (I MEAN OBVIOUSLY), fuckboy michael, fem!Reader, high school au, drug mentions, alcohol mentions, fingering, cunnilingus, dirty talk 

word count: 6k 

tagging some people i think might be interested: @langdonsrapture @avesatanormalpeoplescareme @wroteclassicaly @langdonsinferno @americanhorrorstudies @sodanova @alicecooper19 @ccodyfern @starwlkers @duncvn @xtheinevitableprophecyx

i.

The summer before your senior year of high school, your life was abruptly separated into two parts: before Michael Langdon, and after Michael Langdon. Up until then, your life had been peaceful- maybe a little boring, mundane, but peaceful all the same. You’d had a painfully average life with painfully average grades and a painfully average social life, but there was nothing to complain about, living in your modest high-ranch with your father in the middle of the suburbs.

And then your father met Miriam Mead Langdon, a slightly eccentric but nice-enough woman who oftentimes frequented the same grocery store he did. You hadn’t had a problem with Miriam; you were pleased to see your father happy after having been single for so long, ever since your mother passed away years before. No, you didn’t have a problem with Miriam- it was her son, Michael, that you couldn’t fucking stand.

Michael Langdon was everything you hated- cocky, rude, a smart-ass, spoiled. Everyone who met him seemed to fall under his spell, charmed by his smooth talking and boyish good looks, and so he always seemed to get whatever he wanted. There was no question of whether he was attractive, with soft waves of blond hair and admittedly beautiful baby blue eyes, paired with plump pink lips that always seemed to be curled into an infuriating smirk. Girls swooned over him, including your own friends (which you’d gagged over), and boys fought for his approval and friendship. It was beyond nauseating.

When your father had announced that he and Miriam were engaged, you’d been forced to swallow your distaste for the boy who, soon enough, would be your stepbrother. In June they were married, and soon afterwards, Miriam and Michael moved into your father’s home. Michael got the once-vacant guest room down the hall from your bedroom, and within a few days it had become an entirely new place; he’d plastered the walls with posters, depicting everything from horror movies to half-naked girls to metal bands. The top of his dresser was strewn with random things he’d thrown there: an empty Jack Daniels bottle, AXE body spray (because of course), an enormous glass-blown bong, a half-empty pack of Marlboro Reds, designer sunglasses. The entire room reeked of weed, sometimes drifting down the hall and into your room, but for some reason your father never mentioned it (which you were sure he would, had it been you who was stinking up the house and not Michael).

That entire summer, you were forced to witness Michael getting away with things you could never dream to: sneaking in girls at all hours of the night (no headphones were good enough to block out the scarring noises that left his room on these occasions), stealing your father’s expensive liquor from the glass-paneled cabinets, leaving the house at 1 am and coming back home after sunrise. It seemed that he was able to talk himself out of anything, and if you didn’t hate him so much, you might have even said you envied him a little.

The only upside was that you were graduating high school this year; the both of you would be off to college in the fall, and then you’d never have to see his stupid, smug face again. Or, at least, almost never.

That thought was the only thing that kept you from losing grip on your sanity; like a prayer, you’d tell yourself: only a few more months.

ii.

“Michael, I don’t know why you’re being so difficult. Just take your sister to school.” The even voice of Miriam filled your kitchen as you glared at Michael, who was slumped over a bowl of cereal- your cereal- at the kitchen table.

“My sister?” he repeated through a mouthful of corn flakes. You gagged dramatically, hoping the gesture caught his eye. “You guys got married not even four months ago and now I’m suddenly expected to act like she’s my blood relative?”

You rolled your eyes, frowning when he reached for the cereal box.

“Believe me, the feeling is mutual,” you muttered, grabbing the box away before he could take more from it.

“Michael,” said Miriam, her voice tinged with warning, but you knew she wasn’t actually going to do anything. Not to Michael, her precious, perfect baby boy who apparently could do not wrong. “You’re going to the same place. It only makes sense for you to drive her.”

“Whatever,” he griped, standing up to grab his backpack off the counter without bothering to put his dish away. Just as you’d expected, Miriam took his bowl and placed it in the sink without a word. “C’mon.”

You followed him to the front door, watching as he retrieved his ring of keys from the back pocket of his black skinny jeans.

“I don’t understand why you can’t just get a ride with (best friend’s name),” he said irritably.

“Because we’re no longer speaking, that’s why.”

“Is it because of-“ he paused, flashing you a shit-eating grin, cocking one eyebrow at you knowingly. Dickhead.

“What do you think?”

“Aww, come on, you’re still mad about that?” he chuckled, pulling his sunglasses off the front of his shirt and sliding them on.

“Yes.” You trailed behind Michael onto the porch, slamming the door behind you loudly. He dug his thumb into a button on his keys, and on cue his sports car- because of fucking course he had a sports car- let out its usual cheery beep as it unlocked.

“You mind getting in the back?” he asked you, tossing his keys up into the air idly and catching them before opening the driver side door.

You scoffed. “Um, yes, I mind?” You opened the passenger door defiantly to find the leather seat strewn with CDs, food wrappers, a math textbook which you highly doubted he used, and- you wrinkled your nose- was that a box of fucking condoms? Yep, condoms, Magnum XL with added lubrication (you seriously regretted taking the time to read the box).

“Ew, Michael,” you said, snatching up the box before tossing it into the back as though you might contract a deadly disease if you touched it for too long. “Very discreet.”

“What, was that the wittle virgin’s first time seeing condoms in real life?” he teased, slipping into the front seat and turning the key in ignition. You picked up as much of his junk as you could before throwing it haphazardly into the back, earning a wince from Michael.

“Not that I have anything to prove to you, but I’m not a virgin,” you lied.

“Riiiight.” He switched on the radio, screwing up his face indecisively as he flipped through the stations.

“No, seriously,” you said, getting in the passenger’s seat and shutting the car door. You considered putting on your seatbelt, but thought that might be something Michael would tease you about, so you refrained.

Why did you even care what he thought?

“Okay, then, who’d you do it with?” he said, reaching into the glove compartment to retrieve a crushed pack of cigarettes. He pulled one out and stuck it between his teeth, rotating his body as he searched the floor of the car for a lighter.

Your lips turned down in disgust. “Can you not do that right now?”

“Uh, it’s my car,” he snapped, and you retreated. He found a lighter, flicking it on and off presumably to test if there was any fluid left, and then he lit his cigarette. He inhaled deeply, letting the smoke unfurl from his nose, before his face lit up once more with a mischievous grin. “Oh right. Who was it that you had sex with, again?”

You pressed your lips together, annoyed that he’d remembered. “You don’t know him.”

You couldn’t see his eyes due to the fact that they were covered with tinted lenses, but you were sure he’d narrowed them suspiciously in your direction at this. It was so obvious that you were full of shit, and you knew it. “I know pretty much everyone who goes to our school.”

“He doesn’t go to our school.”

“Uh-huh,” he said, unconvinced, but you were grateful when he didn’t press on further. He rolled down the window, bringing the cigarette to his plump lips as he backed out of the driveway, hardly bothering to glance over his shoulders. You weren’t entirely sure how he hadn’t been in a car accident yet. Probably just dumb luck, which Michael always seemed to have an abundance of.

You stared out the window for a while, arms crossed in front of your chest as you attempted to avoid the smoke that Michael made no effort to shield you from. The morning sun shone through the window and bounced off Michael’s effortless mop of blond waves, just slightly overgrown, which he’d attempted to neaten with the smallest hint of hair gel.

He looked like something from a movie, you decided, with his leather jacket and laid-back stance, reclined against the back of the seat with one hand resting on the wheel. You couldn’t help but notice his sharp, angular jawline, clenching slightly as he craned his neck to look at the road, and for a moment you almost caught yourself… admiring him.

You shuddered. Absolutely fucking not.

You were halfway to school when Michael decided to break the silence. “So you and (b/f/n) are really done being friends?”

“I mean, I very clearly asked her not to fuck my brother and she did anyway, so yes, really.”  

You saw the vaguest hint of a smirk play at the corners of his lips, his stump of a cigarette dangling out from between them, and you fought back the urge to backhand him.

“So since you’re no longer friends,” he said, putting his cigarette out on the steering wheel and discarding it outside, “you won’t have a problem with us fucking again, then?”

Of fucking course. You should’ve known better than to believe he actually had any sort of interest in what went on in your life.

“I hate you so fucking much,” you murmured.

“I know,” he said, seeming pretty pleased with himself. Why the fuck did your father have to choose the mother of the worst goddamn person in the world to get married to?

Michael pulled up to the school and into his front-and-center reserved parking space, which he’d allegedly won year-round access to in some kind of charity raffle (though you had a sneaking suspicion it had more to do with the fact that every staff member at the school was practically up his ass and gave him whatever he wanted). Pulling the blinder down and sliding open the attached mirror, he examined his reflection for an unsettlingly long period of time before turning to you.

“Do you mind, like, not speaking to me when we get out of the car?”

You let out a huff as you stormed outside, swinging your backpack over your shoulders with exaggerated motions that you hoped were noticeable. Then, still not entirely satisfied, you flipped him the middle finger. From the driver’s seat, still entirely calm and composed, he laughed.

God, you hated him.

iii.

How you’d wound up getting a date with one of Michael’s fuckboy friends was beyond you.

You’d been stranded at school, because of course Michael had ditched you after you’d made him wait all of thirty seconds after the final bell sounded. Next thing you knew, a boy, whom you recognized as one of Michael’s friends, approached you as you wandered aimlessly by the front of the school- you’d exchanged the expected pleasantries (oh, you’re Michael’s sister, right? he’d asked, even though it wasn’t even a question, considering he was at your house almost every weekend) before he’d offered you a ride home, which you’d accepted perhaps against your better judgement.

On the drive home you’d made surprisingly easy conversation, and when he finally pulled up in front of your house, he stopped you before you got out of the car.

“I’d love to take you out sometime,” he’d said sweetly. “How about this weekend?”

Apprehensive as you were, you realized what a prime opportunity this would be to get Michael back. Also, he was pretty damn cute, with prominent dimples and curly brown hair and tanned skin. So you’d accepted the offer, and subsequently arranged for him to pick you up at 8:00 that Friday.

You couldn’t wait for Michael to find out.

iv.

“So how was school?” asked Miriam, shoveling a pile of mashed potatoes onto her plate with an unnaturally friendly grin plastered across her face. You always dreaded family dinners- the forced conversation, the fact that you had to pretend to get along with Michael, the awkward periods of silence as everyone quietly chewed on their food. To you, it was a nightmare, but your father insisted on having “quality family time” every night of the week, and so everyone was expected to be around the kitchen table at 6:00 sharp, no exceptions.

Even Michael wasn’t able to get out of the dinners; he’d attempted every excuse in the book, but your father had refused to let up. Tonight Michael had claimed that he had plans to study at the library- an obvious lie, even to your father, who truly thought Michael was some kind of golden boy; you’d reveled in the dejected look on his face as he’d grudgingly sat down across from you, unable to get his way for once in his charmed life.

“Fine,” you and Michael said in unison, responding to Miriam’s question.

“You kids always say that,” said your father. “Did anything interesting happen? Come on, there has to be more than one word to describe how your day went!”

“Well,” you said slowly, glancing up to see if Michael was paying attention; it didn’t appear that he was, his head resting in the palm of his hand, elbow settled on the edge of the table as he twirled and un-twirled his spaghetti on the end of his fork. You decided to proceed anyway. “I actually got asked out on a date.”

Michael’s head shot up to look at you, eyes wide. “No way. By who?”

You scowled at him. “None of your business.”

“It’s one of my friends, isn’t it?” He seemed pissed, perhaps a bit more pissed than you’d expected, and you were curious as to why he even cared so much.

“Maybe,” you said coyly, taking a sip of water. This was even more satisfying than you thought it would be, getting under his skin, and you made a mental note to try and piss him off more often.

“A date?” your father said, eyebrows furrowed in a stern expression. You weren’t exactly the most popular with boys, and so he wasn’t yet used to the prospect of his baby girl being taken out.

“Mhm,” you said, meeting your gaze with Michael’s and flashing him a barely-detectable wink. Goddamn, did it feel good to finally have the upper hand.

“Well, that’s exciting,” said Miriam. “He’s a very lucky guy.”

Michael still appeared to be beside himself. “Which friend was it? Was it Jacob? Matthew? Chris?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“(Y/n), I’m serious,” he said, balling his fists up on either side of his plate so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Okay, what the hell was his problem?

“Oh, so it’s okay for you to run around with my friends as much as you want, but if I wanna have fun and go out with one of your friends, it’s not allowed? Grow up, dickhead.”

“Language,” scolded your father. You ignored him.

Michael’s nostrils flared, and for a fleeting second, you almost thought he looked cute, all riled up and angry like this. The second the thought crossed your mind, you shuddered, willing it away as quickly as it had come.

“This is different,” said Michael, giving you a pointed look that said, you know what I’m talking about but I can’t say it right now because our parents are sitting right here.

Still, you weren’t actually sure you did know what he was talking about.

“No, it’s not. You’re just mad that someone’s finally giving you a taste of your own medicine,” you spat, abruptly jumping to your feet and picking up your half-full plate of food. “I have homework to do,” you said to your father, not giving him a chance to protest as you hurried over to the sink and dropped your plate in.

/

You’d just gotten settled on your bed when Michael barged into your room, startling you as he burst through the door without warning.

“You know he’s gonna try and fuck you, right?” was the first thing he said, somewhat smug as he leant against the doorframe to look at you.

“You don’t even know who I’m going out with,” you said as dismissively as you could manage, barely looking up from the Youtube video you were watching.

“If it’s one of my friends, he’s gonna try to fuck you, believe me.” He waited for you to react, and when you didn’t, he let out a condescending snort. “Have fun explaining to him that you’re a big fucking virgin.”

This caught your attention, and you averted your eyes up to your stepbrother, his hair just starting to fall from its hold, soft curls clinging to his forehead and neck. He looked so much more innocent like this- sweet, even, dressed in his plaid flannel sleep pants and plain white t-shirt rather than his usual all-black ensemble. He had one toned arm hooked in front of his chest, long fingers wrapped around the bicep of his opposite arm, his muscles rippling slightly with each movement of his upper body. You licked your lips, mouth suddenly going dry.

“What the fuck is your problem?” you asked him sincerely, as if he might decide to drop his act and actually explain to you what was upsetting him.

“I don’t have a problem. You know, excuse me for looking out for my little sister.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his pajama bottoms for added emphasis, slumping his shoulders dramatically.

At this, you laughed, full and genuine. What a load of shit.

“First of all, Michael, I’m a month younger than you. And second of all, we both know you don’t give a fuck about me. So cut the shit.”

He sneered. “Whatever. I hope you like getting fucked and dumped.”

With that, he turned on his heels, disappearing into the darkness of the hallway and leaving you alone and, quite frankly, confused.

v.

You were in the midst of straightening your hair on Friday night when someone began pounding urgently on the bathroom door. You didn’t have to see the person on the other side, though, to know exactly who it was.

“What do you want, Michael?” You eased the iron down on a chunk of your hair, taking extra precaution not to accidentally burn yourself.

“You’ve been in there long enough,” he said, voice muffled by the barrier of the door. “I need to shower.”

“You showered this morning, dumbass,” you said, setting down the straightener for a moment to apply some eyeliner along the band of your upper eyelashes. You weren’t exactly well-versed in the art of makeup, but considering tonight was the night of your first real date, you’d decided to do some experimenting with the little makeup you owned.

“I have to pee,” he pressed on. You had been in the bathroom for a long time, enjoying yourself as you got ready and listened to music in only your underwear, but in all honesty you were having fun pissing Michael off.

“Too bad.” You brushed some light pink blush onto your cheeks, leveling your head back and forth in the mirror to make sure it wasn’t too much.

There was a scraping noise as the door swung open- that lock had always been faulty. Your arms flew up to your nearly-exposed chest, and your face bloomed deep red as Michael’s pale eyes dropped downwards towards the smooth expanse of your chest. His mouth fell agape before he shut it again, taking a step back, and you could’ve sworn that he, too, was blushing. Or at least it looked that way. It could be the crappy bathroom lighting, you supposed.

He quickly composed himself, poising an eyebrow at you.

“You own a matching bra and underwear set?” he mused.

You shifted, wishing he would just fuck off already, all at once feeling very insecure in your pale pink set that you’d purchased on sale at Victoria’s Secret a few days before. It was your first ever “nice” set of lingerie, and even though you weren’t necessarily planning for anything sexual to happen on your date, you’d thought that tonight would be the perfect occasion to wear it.

“Uh, yeah?” you said, hoping you came off as nonchalant as possible.

“Did you buy that just for tonight?” he asked you with a mocking twinge to his voice, eyes flashing venomously. Your skin prickled in embarrassment, and you looked away.

“No,” you said, picking up the hair straighter again and clamping it around another section of your hair.

“Aww, is tonight the night? Finally getting rid of that v-card?” You focused on your reflection, knowing that the cocky expression no doubt plastered across his face would only serve in making your blood boil.

“Will you just fuck off?” You shoved his firm chest with your free hand, hardly stirring him at all. He snickered, lips twitching at your attempt at being assertive.

“Have fun tonight,” he said in a singsong tone. “But just don’t expect some kind of amazing romantic experience. He’ll probably never call you again once he blows his load inside you.”

Before you could retaliate, he slammed the door shut, and you could hear him laughing to himself as he retreated to his bedroom down the hall. You could still smell his cologne, lingering in the air, even once he was gone.

All at once, a pit formed in your stomach.

vi.

The date was fine, until it wasn’t anymore.

Michael’s friend had arrived at 8:00 on the dot, wasting no time before he began showering you with compliments- he’d remarked that you smelled amazing, making a point to bring his face close to your neck and inhale deeply, which you’d giggled in response to. He’d gushed over how well your maroon sweater flattered your skin tone, eyes just barely ghosting over your cleavage.

First he’d taken you to a diner. Nothing fancy, but you still appreciated the gesture all the same. Over pancakes you’d discussed your plans for after high school, among other things, and you’d been pleased to find how well you both got along.

After dinner was when things had gone downhill. Instead of driving to the local bowling alley, like he’d told you he would, you’d both somehow ended up on the other side of town, parked outside of an abandoned supermarket.

Here we fucking go, you thought to yourself as he shut off the car and stared at you expectantly.

“So,” he said lowly, leaning in towards you while one hand slipped down the side of your seat, pushing down the lever to recline the back. “What do you wanna do now?”

“I thought we were going bowling,” you deadpanned. Perhaps you might have considered doing something sexual with the boy, had he not pulled some shit like this, but now there wasn’t a fucking chance.

“Mmm,” he said, and you cringed at his attempt at sounding sexy as he pressed his lips to the side of your neck. “I think I know a different game we can play.”

You lifted your shoulders up, the suddenness of your motions jerking his head back. “I think you need to take me home.”

He knit his brows, face falling, as he sat upright again. “Are you fucking serious?”

“Very much so,” you retorted, folding your arms in front of you.

“You’re a fucking tease, you know that?”

“And you’re a colossal fucking douchebag.”

You hated that Michael had been right about something, and you most certainly weren’t looking forward to explaining what had happened when you arrived home. You felt stupid, naive, but knew you had nobody to blame but yourself. Your heart sank- there was no way Michael would ever let you live this down.

The drive home was completely silent, and the boy didn’t wait for you to get inside before he sped off into the night. Not that you’d expected him to, after he’d revealed himself to be such a complete and utter fuckboy.

It was barely 9:30 when you arrived through the front door, trying your best to make as little noise as possible so as not to alert anyone of your arrival. The second you’d shut the door behind you, the first tear fell- you hadn’t even realized you were on the verge of crying, but now tears were flowing freely down your cheeks. You wiped your eyes with the back of your sleeve, inadvertently staining the fabric with eyeliner, and you let out a second choked sob at the sight.

You reached down to take off your boots, creeping up the stairs with as much stealth as you could muster. The last thing you wanted right now was for Michael to approach you, especially not while you were vulnerable like this.

Sniffling gently, you padded across the wood flooring to your bedroom, gritting your teeth in concentration as you tiptoed past Michael’s room. Your fingers had just barely brushed your doorknob, however, when you heard Michael’s voice behind you.

“Back already?”

You nearly had a heart attack right then, crying out when his voice cut brashly through the silence. You whipped around, no longer worried about preserving your pride, tear-filled eyes squinted in frustration.

“Yep, I’m back. And before you ask, yes, you were right. He was a fucking asshole. Go ahead and laugh, I don’t give a shit.”

He seemed surprised, the amused look on his face faltering ever-so-slightly. “Told you so.”

He tilted his head, leaning his weight onto his shoulder which rested against the doorframe. It appeared like he wanted to say something else, and you raised your eyebrows at him.

“You know, uh, you might feel better if you smoked some weed.” He pointed over his shoulder into his room. For a moment, you were speechless. Was he—inviting you to hang out with him? “I have some good shit. If you wanna smoke some with me.”

You blinked in disbelief. Was this some sort of sick joke? Something about the way he looked at you, though, told you that he was being serious. Giving him a weak half-smile, you patted away the remainder of your tears with the edge of your sleeve.

“You know what? I think I will.”

vii.

Lying on your back, you watched Michael’s color lamp fade from color to color with bated breath, entranced with the hazy display. The world was so much more beautiful like this, you thought, vision blurred around the edges with a soft glow.

You’d never been high before, but after taking one hit from Michael’s bong (and getting laughed at for coughing so hard), you were gone. Michael was just as stoned as you were, his bloodshot eyes drooping at the corners, lying next to you with his hands folded over his chest.

It was probably the first time the two of you had ever gotten along. You’d talked for what felt like hours- about what, you could hardly remember, but your stomach muscles ached from how hard you’d been laughing all night. Maybe Michael isn’t such a dick, after all, you’d thought in passing.

You turned your head over to Michael, whose porcelain skin was bright pink from the light of the color lamp, and without thinking you reached out and touched his cheek.

“What are you doing?” he asked with a smile, full lips curving upwards on one side, voice raspy and thick.

“Your face is pink.”

“So’s yours.”

You both stared at each other before erupting into hysterics, and then, out of nowhere, Michael’s lips were planted hard against yours. It happened so unexpectedly that it took you a moment to register what had happened, but your lips had already begun to move fluidly against his before the thought processed in your mind.

You whimpered, grasping at the front of his t-shirt and twisting the fabric in your palms, his tongue sliding past your teeth and into your mouth. You could taste his favorite cinnamon gum, the flavor melding seamlessly with that of stale cigarettes, and your breath hitched as he rolled on top of you, propping himself up with his arms on either side of you.

You panted breathlessly beneath him, lifting your hand to the back of his neck and pulling him back down towards you. You craned your neck to meet your lips with his again, your teeth clashing noisily as he deepened the kiss. When he pulled away, a silvery string of spit stretched between your mouths.

What the fuck was happening?

“I knew it,” he mumbled against your jaw, sending vibrations through your body and straight to your cunt.

“Knew what?” You writhed as his torso pushed against yours, feeling the hard protrusion in the front of his flannel pants against your thigh.

“That you’re a virgin. You can’t even kiss properly.”

You gaped at him, heart racing when he brought one hand to wander underneath your sweater, gripping your right breast roughly. You mewled at the possessiveness of his touch, sinking your teeth into your lower lip, and he smirked.

“So sensitive,” he remarked. He pulled down the cups of your bra and tweaked your nipple before massaging it roughly with his thumb, earning him a breathy moan from the back of your throat. “Mm, you like having your big brother touch you, baby?”

You nodded fervently, the ache of your cunt intensifying now, his head moving to the crook of your neck to plant sloppy kisses along your throat. “This is what you wanted all along, isn’t it? What you touch yourself thinking about, late at night when you think nobody can hear you.”

Your eyes widened, gasping slightly when he attached his lips to your neck and began sucking a bruise onto the tender stretch of skin. He brought his hand out from under your shirt, running his fingertips along your bottom lip, and obediently you opened up for him.

He slid two of his fingers into your mouth and over your warm tongue, pressing down as he gathered your saliva on the calloused skin. He bit down slightly on your neck before swiping his tongue over the freshly-formed hickey, relieving you of the small bit of pain he’d caused.

“M-michael,” you whined, once he’d pulled his fingers from your mouth. He shifted himself so he was resting on his side beside you, bringing his wet fingers down to your pelvis and undoing the button of your jeans.

“You want your big bro to make you cum on his fingers? Hm?”

The vulgarity of your words sent a fresh wave of arousal between your thighs, and you groaned.

“Hm?” he repeated, moving his hand from the waistband of your jeans to your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“God, yes,” you breathed. At this point, you were too far gone to think about how goddamn wrong this was. You’d never felt this way before, never been so turned on, and there was nothing in the world that could make you want to stop now.

He exhaled sharply in what sounded like a slight chuckle, and he returned his hand to the zipper of your jeans, pulling it down and shoving his hand into your underwear in one swift motion. You melted at the feeling of his damp fingers moving down the smooth layer of hair along your pubic bone, forming small circles over your clit once he reached it.

“Fuck-“ you exclaimed; all his experience with girls must’ve really paid off, because he knew what he was doing- carefully he pulled back your hood, exposing your pulsing clit, and with his middle finger he tapped lazy patterns on the bud.

Your stomach clenched as he dragged his fingers along your slit, spreading the abundant wetness there and sending shivers down your spine. Parting your lips, he pressed one finger to your entrance experimentally, kissing your shoulder almost comfortingly as he eased it inside.

“So fucking tight,” he rasped, sinking his finger further inside you with a lewd squelching sound. It was your first time being penetrated, and it burned as you felt your walls being stretched out, but within seconds the discomfort was overtaken with pleasure. “My little sis is so wet for me.”

He began pumping in and out steadily, your hips rocking against his hand instinctively, and it wasn’t long before he added a second finger; your jaw unhinged at the intrusion, your thighs spreading further to welcome him inside.

“Michael,” you moaned, eyes rolling back when he quickened his pace, repositioning himself so he could thumb your clit with his free hand. He tilted his head up, biting your swollen lower lip and pulling it towards him, toying with your clit so intensely that it was almost too much.

“You wanna cum, baby?” His hot breath warmed your cheek and desperately you bobbed your head up and down.

He slipped his hand out from between your legs, resulting in a disappointed groan passing your lips. Taking hold of the denim material clinging to your hips, he worked down your jeans and tugged them off, leaving you in only the pale pink lacy thong he’d seen you in earlier.

It was crazy, really, how drastically things had changed in a matter of a few hours.

He crawled down the bed and nestled himself between your legs, spreading them once he’d removed the thin scrap of fabric that was your underwear. You were overtaken with goosebumps as the air hit your throbbing core, his lips brushing teasingly over your inner thighs. You bucked your hips up and he snickered, pushing your pelvis back down on the mattress with one hand.

“You’re so cute when you’re needy,” he purred.

You would’ve shot him a look of distaste, had you not been so worked up.

Slowly, he dragged his tongue up your slit, your hand immediately flying down to tightly grasp at his mess of curls. He glanced up at you from underneath his eyelashes, eyes heavy-lidded from both lust and the THC in his system.

“Tastes so fucking good,” he said, swirling his tongue over your sensitive clit. You twitched, tugging at the root of his hair perhaps a bit too hard, grinding your hips up against his face. Latching his lips around your bundle of nerves, he sucked ruthlessly, sliding two fingers past your entrance for a second time and thrusting them deep.

“That’s it, cum for your big brother.” His words reverberated against your cunt and you cried out, threading his soft hair between your fingers.

He applied even more suction to your clit, turning his fingers inside you and curling them expertly to brush against your spongey inner walls.

It didn’t take much more of this for you to cum, the coil in your stomach snapping without warning. You cried out in ecstasy, your narrow walls tightening around his slender fingers, abdomen tightening as your orgasm flooded throughout your trembling body.

He didn’t stop until you fell back limply into his pillows, chest rising and falling and eyelids fluttering. Finally he pulled away, wiping your juices from his mouth with the back of his hand, a devious grin situated across his lips.

“And to think, all this time I thought you hated me.”

All you could do was roll your eyes.

[sylwritesstuff]

006) Heaven (1910)

Part of the Light to Dancing 100x100 List.

Rating: PG13 (language)

Featuring: One of my many many ideas on when Aziraphale was created and how he and Crowley fit into the whole Fall thing. 

----

He'd had stranger thoughts, in his opinion. He gazed skyward or, more accurately, Heavenward, and considered the errant thought. It was very possible. It would certainly explain why he hadn't Fallen and why Crowley didn't quite carry his demonic nature as strongly as the rest did. Why he was allowed a bit of kindness and why Aziraphale was allowed a bit of... 

Well, Crowley had called a bit of a bastard but Aziraphale preferred to think he had a touch of mischief. 

In any case, his conclusions helped him with an issue he'd been ignoring since the beginning but had truly been grappling with since the Second World War. He, an angel, loved a demon. And part of him had been waiting to Fall ever since. He'd waited for the cracks to form, for his wings to blacken with char. 

And yet... 

And yet. 

"Seen something we should be worried about, angel?" Crowley's eyes narrowed. "It is you, isn't it?" 

"Yes, my dear, of course. I was merely contemplating."

There was a moment, Crowley staring at him as if trying to see through him. He even pulled down his glasses. Aziraphale merely smiled at him. He had nothing to hide. "Right," Crowley finally said, dropping onto the bench. It was more of a sprawl, really, the way he took over the entire space as if someone would dare join them. 

Aziraphale inched closer until his shoe touched Crowley's boot. Crowley shifted a little, his only sign of surprise, and the angel's small smile warmed. "What were you contemplating, then?" Crowley demanded. Had Aziraphale not known him so well, he never would've noticed the slight gruffness of his tone. 

"The ineffable plan."

That snapped Crowley out of it. He groaned. "Come on, Aziraphale. I thought we weren't gonna talk about that anymore."

Aziraphale lifted his brows. "Whatever gave you that idea?" 

"The fact that I don't wanna talk about it anymore."

"Oh... Pish-posh."

"'Pish-posh?'" he echoed incredulously. 

"It means-" 

"I know what it bloody means. Don't say it to me. You always talk like-" He stopped dead when Aziraphale simply laid a finger over his lips. It took a full three seconds - Aziraphale counted each of them - for Crowley to lean back in shock. "That- Aziraphale, that was actually rude."

"Yes, it was. It did seem a bit necessary, though." Instead of sitting back up and placing his hand in his lap, Aziraphale laid it on Crowley's leg. "I've also learned that a bit of... temptation is necessary. Now and again."

"Ngk."

Wonderful. Aziraphale smiled brightly. "You know I didn't come into being after the Fall, don't you?" 

It was another three seconds. "Wot?" 

"I know you and I never met. I didn't meet any of the angels until afterwards. God said I was an angel, gave me all the details I suspect She gave to everyone when they were created, and then said I was to go to Eden. She only said that I must stay until She called me back up. She would have a gift for me."

He paused, waiting to see if Crowley was actually paying attention or still focusing on the fact that the angel was touching his thigh. "The flaming sword," he said, solving that mystery. 

"Precisely. I did stay as I was told. I watched the sign go up on the very tree you complained about when we first met and I found a nice spot of dust when asked. It became Adam, you see, and I was quite proud of that. I still am even though God rather quickly decided She should make a better model using some spare piece of Adam and then Eve was born. I enjoyed them very much, you know."

"I know. What's this got to do with the insufferable plan?" 

"It-" Aziraphale sighed at him. "Ineffable."

"It can be both."

"Now don't go around poking fun at the Almighty."

"Poking fun at you."

Aziraphale decided to ignore that. "Now whilst I was in Eden, I began to hear the battle. The humans couldn't go over the wall, as you know, but I liked to walk it at night. I've always enjoyed looking at the stars."

"I know that too."

Aziraphale squeezed his thigh to say two very important things: 1) You know me very well, my dear, and I like that about you, and 2) Shut. Up. "As I was saying, I heard the battle. I was very concerned, obviously. There were only my fellow angels, God, and these two humans about. Not counting the animals. But I did as I'd been told. I stayed in the garden and I waited to be called. I didn't want to leave Adam and Eve behind. They were so... innocent, then. Naive, really. I didn't want them to be hurt.

"Finally, I was called back up. I finally met the other angels and, to be perfectly honest, I was shocked to find I didn't like them. Not one of them."

Crowley cocked his head. "Even then? You always acted as if you liked them."

"It was the right thing to do. We were all angels. God had yet to tell me about the Fall. But the others did. Michael especially. Adored bragging how they'd kicked Lucifer right in the face and sent him and his followers down beneath the Earth. It was a new place called Hell."

Crowley sucked his teeth. "Right. I remember that. Uriel blinded him and Gabriel yelled something stupid. Then Michael swoops down and there y'are. War's over. Everyone fell hard and I just... Well, I didn't have much choice. I was going anyway. Knew that."

"That's something I wondered. Did you fight in the war?" 

Crowley wrinkled his nose. "No. Why would I want to go and do something stupid like that? I watched from a respectable distance. Not my fault all my friends were on the losing side, but down I went anyway."

"Were you told to?" 

Brow furrowing, Crowley stared at him. "I just told you all my friends were on the losing side. Not my friends anymore, obviously. Lucifer became a right tosser the moment he changed his name to Satan and all the rest decided to get their revenge or whatever. I was never really down for it."

"Crowley, please, were you told to Fall?" 

"Not in so many words, no. It was just kind of expected. I'd asked the same questions that started the fighting even if I didn't participate in that bit. All the angels were prats and the now-demons were just as bad suddenly. I didn't care about the humans up here, but being in the middle seemed a lot better than being in Hell."

"So would you say... that you made the choice of your own Free Will? Just as I've discovered that I gave my sword away of my own Free Will? Twice now, mind you. I've chosen Earth over Heaven twice. And I haven't Fallen."

Crowley sneered. "Right. Yeah. Look a bit more smug about it."

"No, my dear, you don't understand. When we were created, what were we told about Free Will?" 

Crowley let out a long-suffering sigh as if he was tired of talking about the past. Aziraphale didn't blame him, but he did inch a little closer. Their knees touched. "We were told we didn't have it. What's the point of-?" 

"But don't we?"

"Don't we what?" 

"Have Free Will. I suppose as a demon, you could say that your lot stole Free Will and that's why you fell."

"Well, duh."

"No, no, no. Pay attention, Crowley. I am not a Fallen Angel."

"I know that. Stop rubbin' it in, you..." Aziraphale saw the moment it clicked, Crowley tipping his glasses down to give him that narrow-eyed stare again. "You think angels were designed with Free Will, then told we didn't have it. You think God planned the bloody Fall?" 

"Well, you can't very well have good without evil. And, I think, you can't live a very full life without the knowledge of both."

"They should've eaten the apple."

"They were always supposed to eat the apple, my dear. You're my apple."

Crowley sucked in a sharp breath. "S'cuse me?" 

Aziraphale scooted closer. Crowley had to adjust his legs so their sides could press flush together. "Out of all the intelligent beings in Heaven and Earth, you and I and the humans didn't fight. You took your Free Will and made a responsible decision and then you came to the garden and did the right thing. You've always done the right thing by me. Haven't you?"

Crowley grunted. Aziraphale decided it was an agreement. "There, you see? You're my apple. When I received the sword, God said 'Beware the snake in the garden.' I've been bewaring ever since, but... Well, what did you say on the wall? Not very subtle. Yes. I suppose I am very much slower than you are in some things, Crowley, and this very much appears to be one of them. But I've decided I should take a bite."

Oh, wait, no, that sounded- "A metaphorical one, I mean. I- I'm not actually going to bite you."

"Why not?" 

Aziraphale huffed, unamused by his little smirk. His speech was basically ruined now. May as well just say it. "I love you. And, I think, whether or not I knew it, I always have."

"And, ah, you think that's part of the ineffable plan?" 

"I don't know."

"Wot."

He spread his hands, beaming. "I don't know, my dear. It isn't my business to know and it isn't yours. We're here to make choices and take our sides. I've taken Earth's side and, just as importantly, I've taken ours. I don't know the ineffable plan, but I know I love you."

"And you tell me that on a park bench?" 

Aziraphale leaned over, kissing his cheek. The lenses on his sunglasses cracked and the angel only smiled. "It's a beautiful day. I thought it would be rather romantic."

"Oh, don't start thinking about romance. We've gotten on just fine without all that."

Aziraphale brought a quick miracle, fixing his sunglasses. "You saved my books from a bomb."

"That- That wasn't romantic. That was-" 

"You made Hamlet extremely popular."

"You liked it. It doesn't really matter like-" 

"Saved me from a French guillotine."

"What was I supposed to do? Let you get all discorporated?" 

He looked like he was going to crawl right over the back of the bench. Aziraphale kissed his cheek again. "Brought me chocolates for my store opening and, even though I don't know how, I do know you were the one who convinced head office to forego my returning to Heaven."

"Well, I- That-" 

"That was very sweet of you."

"Stop that," Crowley protested. 

"You mischievous darling."

"Oi!"

Aziraphale kissed him again, soundly this time and right on the mouth. Crowley made some sort of indecipherable sound that only made Aziraphale giggle. "I suppose it's good I didn't tell you before the Apocalypse. Your brain seems to have been turned to porridge."

"Mush."

"What?"

"The expression. It's turned to mush."

"Hm. I prefer porridge."

"You would."

They sat silently for a few seconds, Aziraphale smiling as ducks swam across the pond. Clouds continue to roll across the bright blue sky, and Aziraphale's halo stayed intact. He wanted it to. 

Crowley's stayed broken because he wanted it to. "I love you too, y'know."

"Yes. I'd hoped."

"So did I."

[fictional-lover01]

Michael Myers NSFW alphabet

A/N: Artwork belongs to @irageneveart

A: aftercare- this boy is a steel machine, he rarely shows emotions or any form of expression; but he’ll always put you first. He loves you even if he doesn’t show it, so...he’ll do cuddling mostly but on the rare occasion he’ll take a bath with you to relax.

B: Body part (his & yours) - Ngl, he probably really enjoys his hands 😉 bc they’re just that delicious size where it can wrap around your neck and his strength with definitely leave bruises all over. As for you, I believe he enjoys everything about you (hence why you’re alive and w/ him) but if he had to pick a part I’d say eyes. I feel like since he’s also expressing little to no emotions he loves to see that love you have for him that’s just shining, he loves to see how happy and comfortable you are with him through your eyes; ya know like the eyes are the key to the soul kinda thing.

C: Cum- I swear to everything that I love; this man LOVES to be able to cum inside you. Like tell me otherwise. To me I think he’d feel so smug/proud that you’re his and wants to prove it constantly so he likes to cum in you as a way of “marking his territory” that and I think he’s got a breeding king tbh.

D: Dirty Secret- tbh I can’t really think of any but ima make a guess and say if he isn’t wearing his mask yank on that hair, tug and just run your fingers through it. It’ll make him feel content trust meh. Also drag those nails(even if you dont have much) down his back, he’d enjoy the feeling.

E: Experience- boy has been locked up and hasn’t really expressed any sexual desires in any (healthy) form. So even though he might know what sex is and how its done, you’ll likely lead the first time.

F: Favorite Position - Depends, if he’s feeling a more romantic atmosphere between you two and he’s not fueled by adrenaline he’d probably fuck you in missionary or the lotus position. The positions are more romantic and allows him to hold you close to him( which probs makes him want to cry out in happiness bc he’s never been shown love). However, if he’s riled up for any kind of reasons (teasing/killing spree/etc) he’d take you standing up, doggy, or missionary as well. With standing it’d allow him full control, he could hold you in front of a mirror, against a window, wall or just standing straight up with your legs either up iver his shoulders or grasped tightly in his hands or even around his waist. As for doggy, this position is for when he is in beast mode and ready to see you whimper and cry for him and just become putty just for him. Missionary would allow close contact but he’d also be able to just fucking fold you and make you cry out all night.

G: Goofy - Michael is not a man to joke....or at least in a humor sense while fucking you. He would keep it serious in a way where he radiates;

Be a good Girl/Boy

Im in control

Reward or Punishment

You’ll be nothing but putty in less than a minute

(Like you cannot tell me Michael doesn’t just scream Daddy)

H: Hair - Boy has probably (most likely) never shaved or trimmed in his life (maybe). So I’d say he has a bush down there but I would assume it wouldnt be outta control ya know what I mean? Also he’d likely start trimming it here and there when he wasnt out killing and bc he has a S/o so he doesn’t want to look like a total mess.

I: Intimacy - As he had never been loved truly, the fact that you’re willingly loving him both ohysically and emotionally he’d want to have you close to him as much as possible. He’ll hold you so damn close even afterwards (considering he never shows his emotions its also a way to express to you his adoration for you).

J: Jack off/masturbation- Nope. He’s aware that he can do it when you’re out and not home but tbh he’d just wait till you got back or he would go out to find you and either bring you back or find a secluded place to fuck you.

K: Kink-

DADDY

Hair tugging

Rope/light bondage (for you)

Choking

Spanking

Teasing

L: Location - He’s a killer, he doesn’t care where you two fuck; but he’d likely prefer at home or outdoors in the wooded areas. And he’d fuck you anywhere it does not matter. Though he does enjoy it being at home where he can make you scream all he wants with no problems and anywhere in the house too.

M: Motivation (turn ons/gets em goin) - Just you, your smile, your laugh, your body just everything about you.

N: NO - No toys for either of you. It just doesn’t feel right to him. And no dominating him, he’s a big guy so he just can’t see or ever imagine you taking control of the situation.

O: Oral (Receiving/Giving)- Down for both, prefers giving bc he enjoys seeing you wither away as he’s eating you out. Not to mention if you start pulling on that hair of his or even start to close your thighs around his head whooooo boi....you’re in for a treat.

P: Pace - He will start slow and it’ll be fine and dandy then he’d start picking up the pace. But it all depends, sometimes he’ll start fast then slow as a way to tease you and keep you from cumming.

Q: Quickie (Y/N) - Always down but its only when you two are busy(mostly you) or out in public. He’d rather having you in his grasp at home or somewhere he can spend however long as he wants though.

R: Risk (Game 4 experimentation?) - He’s probably down for anything at least once.

S: stamina (How long can they go?) - He has yet to die so I believe this man can go for as long as he wants. All night? Prepare to not walk for a couple days. A couple hours everyday? You’re gonna need help around the house. An entire day? Say goodbye to all the task you had to get done and say hello to your bed cause 1) you wont be leaving it and 2) you won’t be able to move after that. If you pass out or anyhing of the sorts Michael will continue on non stop till he feels like he should so uh, ya good luck with that.

T: Toy - No. plain and simple no for both on you and him, he feels it’s saying as if he’s not enough for you when in reality he can wreck you and keeo you that way for a couple days to a week.

U: Unfair (Tease level) - SUCH A MASSIVE TEASE. Bitch will tease you throughout the day even until you’re dragging him to the bedroom or wherever. But if you tease him just be prepared for punishment, keep teasing and you’ll lose all feeling in your legs and hip.

V: Volume (How loud are they/You) - He won’t be loud, grunts here and there but otherwise he’s focused on making you scream till you lose your voice.

W: Wild Card (Random HC) - Michael is a jelly boi, so much that if anyone; female or male looks at you in a way he doesn’t approve of they will die. Of course you will have to make sure he doesn’t keep killing people who just look at you or even breath the same air as you.

X: X-Ray (Size?) - Big Boi = Big dick. Michael might not have grith but he has length, and that in itself is enough to have you keen.

Y: Yearning( How high is their sex drive?) - Having been locked up and kept aware from any sexual attention, after the first time between you and him it’ll be alot to handle. Like ALOT cause he’ll be focused on you so his sex drive is pretty high, it all just depends on how he’s feeling.

Z: 💤 (How quick they fall asleep) - Since he did destroy you he’ll rest for a bit before doing the chores you were gonna do, or he’ll just stay in bed with you, eyes roaming over your figure for a bit before actually falling asleep.

[justlightlysedated]

no one asked for, 30 “that was unexpected” + kylex

***

Kyle doesn't realize that he wants to throw his hat in the ring in the war for Alex Manes’ heart until Alex laughs long and loud and unselfconscious at something that Michael says and Kyle realizes with an uncomfortable jolt deep in the pit of his stomach that the war is almost won.

Watching Alex fall Omar's charms hadn't been a fun experience, at least until Alex had taken a step back, telling him that he wasn't ready for a long term thing. Omar said he would wait as long as Alex still wanted him around.

Watching Michael aggressively pursue Alex afterwards in a single minded way that exploded into an argument where Alex reiterates that he doesn't want a relationship right now, especially not with the only person he can't ever seem to be on the same page with, was also something that had filled Kyle with a dread he wasn't sure exactly why he was feeling.

Watching the two of them fight over Alex had been an experience, only because of the face that Alex made when it happened. A little pleased smirk at the edges of his mouth like he can't believe that what's happening is happening but he doesn't mind it, that never fails to send a thrill down the back of Kyle's spine.

The only times it felt like a kick to the stomach was at times like these when Kyle was forcibly reminded that he's not the only one who has over ten years of history with Alex.

Alex smiles at Michael, eyes soft and glazed, and doesn't pull away when Michael leans in closer.

Kyle thinks that maybe it's time to take Alex home.

He leaves the glass of water on the table and walks over to where Alex is sitting, giggling at something Michael is whispering low in his ear.

Kyle clears his throat and smiles in the face of Michael's glare and Alex's bright eyes.

“Sorry to interrupt the giggling, but I think it's time for all good little Manes’ to go to bed.”

Michael's mouth pinches uncomfortably and Kyle tries not to feel smug about it.

“Actually,” Michael says and drops his arm around Alex’s shoulders pulling him in tighter. “I was going to take him home.”

Before Kyle can interject with how much of a bad idea he thinks that is, Alex speaks.

“It's okay, Guerin,” he says and pats Michael on the cheek. “I made him stay sober so he could drive.”

Alex leans in and presses a kiss to Michael's cheek, and Kyle feels the dread pooling in the pit of his stomach making him feel like he might get sick.

Alex pulls back and freezes like he just realized what he did.

Kyle watches as they stare deep into each others eyes and the feeling that it's too late gets worse.

Alex shakes his head a little, pulling away and gives Michael a confused smile before he's moving sliding out of his seat and leaving.

Kyle follows after him and doesn't think about the way that Michael still hasn't moved.

Kyle doesn't really plan what he's going to do.

He just reacts.

Alex stumbles a little and catches himself on Kyle's shoulder and smiles when Kyle wraps an arm around him to steady him.

Kyle uses the momentum to push Alex back into the side of his truck.

Alex looks up at him eyes startled, brow furrowed in confusion, at least until Kyle leans in close, bracing himself with hands on either side of Alex's hips.

Alex swallows hard and his eyes drop to Kyle's mouth in a way that is not at all subtle.

“I need you to do something for me, Alex,” Kyle says, lowering his voice and leaning in even closer until their noses are just barely brushing.

“Uh huh,” Alex says, sounding out of breath in a way that sends a shiver down the back of Kyle's neck.

“Yeah,” Kyle says and shuffles his feet closer until his knees are pressed against Alex's. “Just, consider all of your options before you make a decision,” Kyle's voice goes hoarse and he sees Alex shudder and feels his hand come up to grip against Kyle's arm.

“Options?” Alex breathes more an exhale of air than an actual sound, and Kyle feels a surge of heat go down the back of his neck when he notices that Alex hasn't looked away from his mouth.

Kyle tilts his chin, sliding a hand to the side of Alex's neck and Alex inhales sharply.

Kyle kisses him, a soft press of lips and Alex makes a small soft sound against his mouth, fingers tightening against Kyle's arm.

Kyle slides his fingers to the back of his neck, and Alex pushes into the kiss harder parting his mouth to Kyle's who traps Alex's bottom lip in the cradle of his mouth and kisses Alex harder.

He pulls back with a soft slick sound and pulls his bottom lip into his mouth as he opens his eyes.

Alex's eyes are still close, but he blinks them open softly and stares at Kyle like he can't believe that he's real.

“That was unexpected,” he says sounding a little dazed, but not at all like he minds.

“So you'll think about it?” Kyle asks and his gaze drops to Alex's soft red shiny lips, and feels another surge of heat at the fact that he was the one to make his mouth look like that.

Alex swallows hard and he looks at Kyle with wide eyes, blinking at him seriously and then his gaze drops to Kyle's mouth and he licks his bottom lip.

“Kiss me again,” he says more of a demand than a question.

Kyle doesn't need to be told twice.