#seeing michael so done with everything is precious to me

[shynrinn]

Michael after everyone finds out their secret relationship with Dagon.

D: angel, it's fine--

M: no, it is not fine...! This is not how I--WE planned for things to turn out!

everyone is shocked, (except maggie and nina) I mean who would imagine a wanker getting a love life

[michaelsfavgirl]

fast learner

Pairing: Michael Jackson x fem!reader

Synopsis: (related to/continuation of innocence) After taking your virginity and focusing solely on your pleasure, Michael hasn't asked for anything in return, leaving you doubting your ability to please him due to your inexperience. Determined to return the favour you ask him to teach you how to give him a blowjob.

Tags: smut, oral (m receiving), dom!michael, sub!reader, first time giving, lack of experience, implied age gap, huge pp, coming untouched, multiple orgasms, fingering, cheesy ending.

Word Count: 3.4k

Requested: yes/no

Author’s Note: lipgloss dupe (there’s a part where I wanted to write that so bad but thought it’d ruin the moment so I’m telling you here)

Links: navigation | masterlist | taglist

It's been a few weeks since Michael introduced you to the pleasures of the flesh. Over this period, your hunger for each other has become insatiable. Who knew sex could be this good? Not a day has gone by without his hands on you, making you cum over and over again until tears roll down your cheeks, and he knows you’ve reached your limit.

He’s been oh so gentlemanly and giving. It wouldn’t be far-fetched to say he’s been eating you out on an almost daily basis. Especially when your poor cunt is sensitive from all the loving and stretching, he just gently laps at your pussy, his warm tongue making you leak more of your sweet juices into his mouth, all without asking for anything in return.

And that’s exactly what’s been gnawing at you. Compared to how experienced he is in the bedroom, you feel slightly embarrassed. He’s always the one doing all the work, always making sure you cum first, ensuring you don’t lift a finger. As much as you love it, it’s starting to make you feel inadequate.

You want to make him feel good as well, but oddly enough, he hasn’t hinted at you giving him oral in any way. How strange. Aren’t men supposed to be obsessed with it or something? It makes you wonder if he thinks you’re incapable of satisfying him since you’ve never done it before. This sends you into a spiral of overthinking.

While this turmoil brews inside your head, Michael, who’s been lying next to you on your shared bed, notices your furrowed brows. Instantly, he pulls you closer to him, your head on his chest and his hands gently caressing your back. Softly, he presses a kiss to the top of your head and whispers, “What’s on your mind, sweetheart?”

Feeling heat rise in your face, you contemplate how to tell him. As soothing as his hands are, they do little to calm your nervousness. You open and close your mouth multiple times before sighing and saying it bluntly, “You’re always doing all the work in bed and... and it makes me feel like I’m not doing enough to please you too.” You close your eyes and focus on the low sound of the TV instead of the silence coming from him.

Michael’s hand pauses for a moment before he shifts, gently tilting your chin up so you’re looking into his eyes. His gaze is soft, filled with understanding. “Oh, baby,” he says, his voice tender. “I love making you feel good. That’s how it’s supposed to be, I wasn’t playing around when I promised to take care of you always.” he smiles and adjusts his body, ready to continue watching the television but you’re not gonna let this go so easily.

“But…” you start, feeling a lump form in your throat, “I want to make you feel good too. I feel like I’m not contributing enough.”

Michael smiles softly. “Sweetheart, you do, seeing your pleasure, feeling your body respond to me—that’s everything. You don’t need to worry about doing anything more.”

“Yeah, but other couples—” you start to argue, but he cuts you off.

“I don’t care what other couples do,” he says, his tone firm but still gentle. “You’re too precious to me. What kind of man would I be if I made you get on your knees for me, hm?”

“But I want to learn how to do it. Teach me,” you say, while looking at him earnestly.

“Another time,” he replies, turning his head back towards the TV.

“What? No, Michael!” You knit your brows together, determined to gain his attention back. You whine and beg, slightly shaking him, trying to get a reaction.

“Please, please, please!” You dramatically clutch his shirt. A minuscule smile crosses his face before he turns up the volume, drowning out your adorable pouts and begs.

“Uh, how dare you? You’re silencing women!” you say, making him laugh genuinely, his lively chuckles ringing through the room. You take advantage, quickly grabbing the remote and turning the television off.

“Please, Michael,” you plead, giving him your best puppy dog eyes. He rolls his eyes playfully, looking at you for a few seconds, wanting to see if you’ll falter. But no, you seem very sure about this.

He caves. “Alright, fine, but just know that this won’t be a frequent activity for you.”

Smiling triumphantly, you start to get off the bed. He stops you with a gentle hand. “Stay on the bed. I don’t want your knees to bruise.” You blush and lay on your stomach comfortably, watching as he stands at the edge of the bed right in front of you.

Michael's eyes darken with a mix of desire and tenderness as he looks down at you. “You’re sure about this?” he asks, his voice low and husky.

You nod eagerly, your eyes sparkling with determination. “Mhm.”

He shakes his head as he sees you impatiently staring at his crotch. “Alright, baby. I’ll guide you through it.”

Michael stands at the edge of the bed, his presence commanding from this angle. Your eyes are fixed on him, anticipation and hunger mixing in your gaze. He begins to undress, his movements slow and deliberate. When his trousers finally drop to the floor, your breath catches at the sight of his girthy, long cock. He’s even more impressive up close, his thick shaft swaying with his every move, begging for attention.

The sheer size of him makes you salivate, but also brings you back to earth, making you nervous about how you're going to manage to fit him into your mouth. Michael notices the flicker of anxiety in your eyes and gives you a reassuring smile, though his teasing nature shines through as he begins to stroke himself lazily.

His hand moves up and down his shaft with a deliberate slowness, knowing full well how it's driving you crazy. You can already feel the wetness pooling in your panties as you watch him, your body reacting to the sight of him pleasuring himself. He pulls back the foreskin that was covering half of his swollen tip, revealing more of the glistening precum that has gathered there.

Michael steps closer, his cock just inches from your face. He swipes a finger through the precum and looks at you with a playful glint in his eye. "Open your mouth," he instructs, his voice low and commanding.

You obey, your tongue sticking out as you wait, your body trembling with anticipation. He places his finger on your tongue. “Suck,” he says seductively. You do so shyly at first, your tongue swirling around his finger as the taste of him makes you whimper, your eyes flutter shut in pleasure.

He watches you intently, smirking as he sees how lost in it you are. After a moment, he reluctantly slides his finger out of your wet mouth, which is immediately followed by a whine from you, already missing his taste.

"I've got something better for you to suck on," he teases, his words making your cheeks heat up. You look up at him, your heart pounding in your chest.

"First, however, I want you to wrap your hand around it," he says gently. Seeing the slight apprehension in your eyes he gives you a soft smile of approval. You tentatively reach out, your hand wrapping around his thick shaft. You marvel at how warm and heavy it is in your hand, the veins pulsing against your soft palm.

“It’s heavy.” You blurt out of of nervousness and as soon as you do you slap yourself mentally.

He chuckles heartily, “It’s all for you.”

Michael's large hand wraps around yours, guiding you as you stroke his meaty cock. "Just like this," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. You feel him swell in your hand, his cock growing fully hard. His guidance helps you feel less nervous, his hand moving yours in a steady rhythm. But then he pulls away, leaving you to stroke him on your own.

You glance up at him, a little panicked, your movements becoming clumsy without his steadying hand. He coos softly, reassuring you, "It's alright sweet girl, you're doing well, go on."

His words bolster your confidence, and you continue to fist his lengthy cock. With each stroke, more precum leaks from his bulbous glistening tip. You so badly want to lick it, but you know you need to be patient. Thus you suppress those needs by rubbing your thighs together, the slight friction making this much more bearable.

"A little faster," he instructs, his voice a gentle command. You nod obediently and pick up your pace. The weight of his heavy cock makes your arm burn, but you push through, mesmerized by the way his foreskin slides over his swollen tip with every motion.

Feeling emboldened by his groans, you give his cock a gentle squeeze. He curses under his breath and smirks, praising you, "Look at you, baby. Didn't even have to tell you to do that."

“So good at this,” he murmurs and throws his head back, “knew you would be.”

You smile shyly, continuing your ministrations. Your hand starts to spasm from the effort, him being the attentive lover that he is, he slows you down, taking your hand off his shaft. Realising what's coming next, you lick your lips in anticipation, your thighs pressing even closer together.

He starts you off slowly, his voice gentle. "Give it a little kiss," he says, his eyes dark with desire. You lean in and softly press your lips against his glossy tip, pulling away you’re left with the remnants of his arousal shining on your lips.

"A few more."

You kiss around his tip, your lips brushing against the sensitive skin. The warmth emanating from him makes your pussy drool. Unable to resist, you give it a hesitant lick. He groans, a deep sound that sends shivers down your spine. "Someone's getting bold," he teases.

You pull away and turn your head to the side bashfully, reaching out, he cups your face gently. "Oh baby, it's alright. Here, open your little mouth."

You part your lips, your heart racing. He holds his cock, guiding his swollen tip to your mouth. Your tongue flicks out, licking the tip of his cock. You sigh at the delicious taste of him, savoring every drop of precum that oozes out. The salty-sweetness leaves you craving more, and you press your tongue against the slit, coaxing more of that deliciousness to the surface. He winces slightly from the sensitivity but lets you continue, his hand resting gently on the back of your head.

Your eyes flutter shut as you lick his tip, lost in the pleasure of tasting him whilst stimulating your clit at the same time. Suddenly, you feel him softly patting his bulbous head against your tongue, drawing you out of your reverie. You open your eyes, clouded by lust, and part your lips wider, tentatively taking him into your mouth. Your lips stretch around him, feeling the warmth and the firmness.

With just the tip in your mouth, you already feel your throat contracting, and breathing becoming much more laborious. He tenderly soothes you, his voice gentle and reassuring. "Shh, youre okay. Try to breathe through your nose…relax."

You nod slightly, focusing on his smooth voice. As you follow his words you feel the pressure disappear and breathing become easier. Curiously, you slowly begin to suck on his tip, the wet noises making you feel a little embarrassed. Michael watches you intently, ensuring you're not straining yourself too hard. He lets you explore at your own pace, his desire for your pleasure evident in his eyes.

You look up at him, your eyes wide and innocent. You whimper around his cock at the sight of his head thrown back, silent pants escaping his lips. You bob your head back and forth, his tip already stretching your mouth full. He shudders, the evident inexperience driving him wild. Without thinking, you try to take more of him in, struggling as his girth overwhelms you.

Michael immediately snaps back to attention, pulling you off him firmly. "Just the tip, sweetheart," he scolds, his tone stern. "Don't ever try to take more, don't want you to choke."

You pout, protesting, "But I want to-."

He cuts you off, shaking his head. "No buts. You can barely take the tip. I don't want you to hurt yourself."

Rolling your eyes, you take just the tip back into your mouth and continue to suckle. The taste and feel of him make you crave more, but you obey his instruction. Michael watches you closely, trying his hardest not to buck his hips and fuck your sweet mouth. He reminds himself that it's too early for that, and he wants to take care of you.

“Take your time, I wanna savour this.” He looks down at you with lustful eyes. He never thought seeing you pleasuring him would turn him on so much.

Just as you start to feel more confident, your teeth accidentally graze his sensitive skin. Your eyes widen in shock, and you try to pull away to apologize, but he holds the back of your head steady, keeping you in place.

"Do it again," he commands softly, his voice a mix of pain and pleasure.

Uncertainly, you press your teeth against his skin and give him the softest bite you can. As soon as you do, he moans, his cock twitching in your mouth. You raise your eyebrows in surprise, not expecting him to be into something like this. If his fat cock wasn't stuffing your mouth, you'd definitely be giggling.

Encouraged by his reaction, you continue sucking, occasionally using your teeth to gently graze his skin. Each time you do, he moans louder, his hips twitching involuntarily. The knowledge that you're driving him crazy fills you with a heady sense of power. You lose yourself in the act, your own arousal building with each moan and groan that escapes his lips.

Michael's hand unconsciously tightens in your hair, guiding your movements as you suckle and nibble on his cock. "Such a fast learner," he praises, his voice thick with desire.

You hum around him appreciatively, the vibrations making him groan. Your lips stretch around his shaft as you suck eagerly, lost in the sensation and taste of him. Internally, you scowl at the reminder that he won't let you do this very often. He's so protective, always concerned about your comfort and safety. But you want to please him, to show him how much you crave this.

Unbeknownst to him, you keep rubbing your thighs together, adding more pressure to your throbbing clit. The friction sends jolts of pleasure through you, making you more desperate for release.

Michael's pants grow heavier, and he warns, "I'm close." You can see the wheels turning in his head, debating whether or not he should pull out. Before he can make a decision, you grab onto his thigh, your eyes pleading with him not to.

His gaze softens, and he nods, letting you have what you want. "Alright, baby. You can have it."

Determined to make him proud, you wrap your hand around his stiff cock, trying to stroke it in time with your sucking. He chuckles through his breathy moans, saying, "You're so eager to please."

He pulls your hand off, not wanting you to put in more effort than you're already putting in, and starts fisting his cock on his own. Although your jaw begins to ache, you fasten your pace, needily bobbing your head up and down. You watch his gorgeous face, his hair sticking to his forehead, as he tries to keep his eyes open to look at you. As he nears his orgasm, he can't help but gently buck his hips, the pulsing head hitting the back of your throat deliciously.

Your eyes flutter as you let him take control. Your body shakes as your weeping clit begs for release as well. "I'm coming," he manages to say, his voice strained with pleasure.

You feel the hot ropes of his creamy load filling your mouth. You moan around his cock at the taste, eagerly swallowing every drop. He keeps flooding your mouth, the sheer volume shocking you. The sensation drives you over the edge. As you rub your thighs harder together, hitting that sweet little spot you feel your orgasm wash over you in tides. Your hands clutch the sheets for support as you shake slightly, which makes his thick milky cum spill from the corners of your mouth and down your chin.

You do your best to swallow it all while riding out your own high. When he finally pulls out, you look spent—eyes half-lidded, breathing heavily, the bottom half of your face wet with his sticky cum. You look absolutely beautiful.

Michael gazes at you with a mixture of awe and tenderness. "You did so well for your first time," he praises, though his words go in one ear and out the other as you catch your breath. You turn over and lay on your back, staring at the ceiling. He cups your face, gently cleaning off his seed off your mouth. "Hey, sweet girl?" he asks, a hint of worry in his voice. "Was it too much?"

You shake your head but don't say a word, still lost in the lingering pleasure. He notices how tightly shut your thighs are and raises an eyebrow in curiosity. He parts them slowly, watching how they tremble.

He shakes his head, realization dawning on him. "Oh, you naughty girl," he murmurs, slipping his warm hand under your panties and feeling the slickness between your folds. "Didn't expect you to cum from just sucking my cock."

You hide your face bashfully while he slides his fingers through your wetness and feels your clit still pulsing with need under his fingertips. "Let me properly take care of that for you." He slips your panties off, exposing your slick, puffy pussy. His fingers gently part your folds, feeling how slippery and sensitive you are.

Michael's touch is gentle but confident as he explores your cunt. "I’m so proud of you," he whispers, his fingers circling your clit at a teasingly slow pace. You whimper, your hips bucking against his hand.

"Please," you beg, your voice trembling with need. "More."

Michael obliges, how can he not when his precious girl did such a good job pleasing him. He slips two of his long finger into your entrance and pumps them in and out of you. His thumb moves to circle your clit, sending waves of pleasure through your body. You moan loudly, your hips moving in time with his thrusts. The sensitivity from the last release helping push you over the edge once more.

"That's it, baby," he murmurs, kissing your temple, his voice low and husky. "Cum for me again." You feel the tension building in your core. Your breathing becomes ragged, your body trembling with anticipation. With a final thrust of his fingers, you cum hard, your body shaking with the intensity.

Michael watches you with a satisfied smile, his fingers still moving inside you, prolonging your pleasure. "You're so beautiful when you cum," he says softly, his thumb brushing against your clit with less fervour.

You ride out your orgasm, your body finally relaxing as the waves of ecstasy subside. Michael slowly withdraws his fingers from your quivering hole and brings them to his lips, licking them clean. He leans down, kissing you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth. You can taste yourself on his lips just as much as he can taste himself on yours.The mix of your essenes making you moan softly into the kiss.

When he pulls back, he looks into your eyes, his expression tender. You snuggle into his embrace as he lifts you and walks towards the bathroom for a much deserved bubble bath.

© michaelsfavgirl 2024

Taglist: @theladyinmoscow @yeriminist @yeaiamme2 @helloaugustmoon @cinnamoncunt @theladyofmylife @minekarina @kionaaa @theskinniestjackson-denny @leociinta @graciegizmo3184 @theasexual-jackson @mrsmikaelsxn @fallinlovewithevil @armasbw @b3rk1ey @sirusxx @maybe7tommorow @falllovesomemichealjackson @moonuoi @iconsmjj @michaels-nonbinary-child @veavixen @elthoughtzos

[harunayuuka2060]

Michael: *has presented to MC (angel) the ring that contains the fragment of their soul*

MC: ...

Michael: I spent a considerable amount of time acquiring this. *smiles* Thankfully, my friend Solomon had helped me out.

MC: ...

Michael: What are you waiting for? Don't just stare at it. Wear this ring so you would be able to receive your punishment.

MC: *nods* *allowing him to slide the ring onto their finger*

Michael: *waiting for it to take effect*

MC: ...

MC: Thirteen will never forgive you.

Michael: Ah. There you are. You've been gone for so long, but I see your personality hasn't changed a little.

MC: ...

MC: What have you done?

Michael: Isn't it obvious? I've turned you into an angel after you have abandoned your mortal body in Devildom.

MC: ...

MC: *smiles, seems taunting him* I never expected that I would interest you a lot for you to trouble yourself this much.

Michael: *smiles back* Yes. I won't deny it. Besides Solomon, your existence is also interesting.

MC: ...

MC: You should be aware that I would not hesitate to take my own life.

Michael: You do and the brothers will be in danger. You might not be aware of this, but the other you residing in their household is of an evil being.

MC: Evil being? Hm. I don't think so.

Michael: An optimist, are we?

MC: *lightly chuckles* *then stares right into his eyes*

MC: I'm a little bit disappointed with Solomon, but he must've been desperate too so I would be able to forgive him.

MC: But you? *smiling* You shouldn't have created another me when the other one is still in existence.

Michael: What are you talking about?

MC: I who no longer belongs to the world... *the ring started to shimmer*

Michael: *his eyes widened*

Simeon, Raphael, Luke, and the other angels: *have heard an explosion*

Luke: Wh-What's that?!

Simeon and Raphael: ...

Simeon: It's where Michael is!

Michael: *has staggered out of his room*

Simeon and Raphael: *runs to him* Michael!

Michael: Oh, you two... *coughs*

Simeon: What happened?

Raphael: *immediately understood what's going on when Michael gave him a glance*

Michael: It was a failed experiment.

Simeon: I see. You've got us worried.

Raphael: Simeon, go and inform the others that there's only a minor accident. And that they have nothing to worry about.

Simeon: *nods* Will you be alright on your own?

Michael: Yes.

*As soon as Simeon had left*

Michael: Raphael, go and find that human. They must be still around somewhere.

Raphael: *nods* *then went on his way*

Michael: ...

Michael: *smiles* You're really dangerous.

Luke: I hope Michael is fine. That was a huge explosion. *has been told by Simeon to return to his room*

Luke: *the moment he closes the door*

MC: Luke.

Luke: !!!

Luke: *quickly turns around and sees MC standing in the middle of his room*

MC: *smiles* It's been a while.

Luke: ...MC?

Luke: ...

Luke: *runs to hug them* *then cries*

MC: I miss you, Luke.

Luke: *being unable to answer as he continues to cry while hugging them*

Thirteen: WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS, SOLOMON?! HOW COULD YOU BETRAY US?!!

Solomon: *has stayed silent after she found out about what he did*

Thirteen: MC... They have given what remained to their soul as a present for me-! Why would you steal it from me?!

Solomon: ...

Solomon: I miss them, Thirteen. And I will take every chance I have to be with them again.

Thirteen: You bastard-! *slaps him across the face*

Solomon: ...

Thirteen: You have no respect to someone's soul! And you didn't respect MC! *is on the verge of tears*

Solomon: !!!

Solomon: ...

Solomon: *accepted everything she said to him*

Solomon: *smiles bitterly* I'm a selfish human, Thirteen. You don't have to forgive me. But I'm begging you not to take their soul back.

Thirteen: ...

Thirteen: Why would I listen to you? That's a gift to me, Solomon.

Thirteen: A precious gift that none of you should have touched.

Lucifer: MC...

MC: *standing in the middle of the castle grounds while looking at the sky*

Diavolo: Have they finally returned to us?

Barbatos: ...

Barbatos: No, young master.

MC: *as if hearing Barbatos, turns their head at their direction*

MC: *lets out a tired sigh*

Lucifer, Diavolo, and Barbatos: !!!

[tooloudamind]

I know that the fateful Final Fifteen of Good Omens S2 has been analysed to death and that there have been countless metas about the same (of which I may have missed some, so please direct me to any that may help answer my questions), but I'm still wondering what else Aziraphale could possibly have done at the end of S2 other than accept the Metatron's offer. I do interpret GO2's ending as being somewhere between “Aziraphale regressed completely to his S1 mentality” and “Aziraphale pushed Crowley away on purpose as part of his game of 4D chess”.

As we saw, the Metatron enters the bookshop apparently just in the nick of time, when Michael is making (empty? did Aziraphale have any way of knowing that, until the Metatron butted in?) threats of erasing Aziraphale's name from the Book of Life. I find this transition extremely jarring, as most of you probably did— what important part of the conversation did we miss, after Gabriel and Beelzebub and the other demons left, for us to jump directly to Michael re-asserting her earlier resolution of Extreme Sanctions? When did Crowley become sprawled over, almost immobile in Aziraphale’s armchair? Were Aziraphale or Crowley going to do anything about the threat that was currently being made to Aziraphale's life? These are all things that make my plot brain itch. But if there’s any purpose for this abrupt turn of events, it’s to emphasise this— Aziraphale's existence as he knows it is coming to an end (the “precious, peaceful, fragile existence” he had carved out with Crowley— which Crowley himself had called fragile for a reason), and there’s nothing he or Crowley can do about it. He is at a crossroads, and it is at this point that the Metatron approaches with a coffee— and makes it clear to Aziraphale as to exactly which options are available to him.

Even so, Aziraphale's first reaction upon hearing that he was to be appointed as Supreme Archangel was to say, right to the Metatron's face, that he didn't want to go back to Heaven (which btw, S1 Aziraphale could never. I'm so proud of my bby for coming this far) He really only seems to become amenable to the offer when the Metatron brings up the possibility of re-instating Crowley— and even then, we don't get to see Aziraphale's reaction in the moment, only the excitement that he later projects towards Crowley. When Aziraphale all giddily tells Crowley that he, Aziraphale, might have misjudged the Metatron— it probably is less because he’s getting something like a gold star from Heaven and more because Crowley’s getting the gold star, so to speak. I’ve been seeing about how Neil wrote in the flashback that GO2 started with, after he wrote the ending and realised there needed to be a reason to care— and the revelation that Aziraphale really did know the angel that Crowley once was, does put everything about the ending into more context (so that’s just brilliant). We know that Aziraphale has seen Crowley at his most carefree, and that Aziraphale was also always the one who was more cautious about Heaven. Many have theorised that in Aziraphale’s eyes, Heaven’s greatest failing was that it sentenced Crowley, of all angels, to Fall— Crowley, the once-angel whose inherent goodness wasn’t extinguished even when his essential nature as a demon forbade it (or at least, according to the propaganda that Aziraphale has been fed for all his existence)— and I do think it might have been the first in a long, long row of dominoes that were set to fall.

When the Metatron made his (clearly insincere) offer to undo Crowley’s Fall, Aziraphale might have clung onto it as a glimmer of hope that Heaven was indeed capable of righting its wrongs. Why would Aziraphale have reason to suspect that Crowley would react as badly as he did? From his point of view, and even from that of the audience, Crowley had always seemed at odds with his apparent demonhood and the fact that he even had to Fall. From Aziraphale’s point of view, Crowley won’t have to pretend to be a “bad demon” anymore— he can just do good (and be with Aziraphale), openly, without fearing for the consequences. Yet, even when the Metatron sends Aziraphale off after their little chinwag, he still doesn’t match the enthusiasm with which he confronts Crowley. Had he psyched himself up for the sole purpose of appealing to Crowley? (… ouch.) And Aziraphale has had a listening problem all season, often distracted from whatever Crowley’s trying to say, but here it comes into play worse than ever. Crowley reiterates that they’re “on their own side” to Aziraphale in the most explicit way he has since the bandstand in S1, but this seems to fly over Aziraphale’s head almost entirely, with Aziraphale then proceeding to make exactly the same offer to Crowley except in terms of the Metatron’s newly proposed status quo. It’s as if Aziraphale didn’t want to consider any other possibility where Crowley and he could continue being together— or couldn’t.

I think that Aziraphale really wanted to make the best of a bad situation, and for Crowley to come with him, emotional baggage be damned. (Otherwise, he wouldn’t have tried so hard to stop Crowley leaving.)

And a bad situation it is— let’s lay out all the cards on the table, shall we? Aziraphale and Crowley were left alone by their respective ex-employers only because they’d scared both sides enough with their body swap shenanigans. The implied precondition, of course, is that they wouldn’t further meddle in the business of Heaven and Hell— confirmed when Gabriel and Beelzebub are explicitly given this ultimatum, and they decide to fuck off together and find their freedom in Alpha Centauri. Meanwhile, Aziraphale and Crowley have already exhausted their first, and only, strike— and Michael seems to have found another threat that seems dangerously effective. (Really, though, for all Aziraphale thinks Crowley could even bear to return to Heaven as an angel— does Crowley think Aziraphale will ever be content leaving the Earth and its denizens to the tender mercies of Heaven and Hell? Have those two ever been able to go without sticking their noses where they’re not supposed to, for all Crowley pretends not to care? Heaven and Hell already had more reason to chase down Aziraphale and Crowley than they ever had for Gabriel and Beelzebub.) They were at the end of their road, and Crowley knew it as well as Aziraphale did— except Aziraphale was in denial the entire season and Crowley revived his fantasy of them running away together that he only ever brings up when they’re literally in an end-of-the-world situation. Did the Metatron threaten Crowley? He might have— but the question is, does he even need to do that?

The Metatron isn’t negotiating. Michael may not have the authority to edit the Book of Life, but if that authority does rest with anyone, it’s with the Metatron. This isn’t a choice that Aziraphale can merely walk away from, and he knows it. Who would choose death over coffee, if given the choice— if that can even be called a choice? “So predictable”, as the Metatron says.

Still, after Crowley kisses Aziraphale back to his senses, Aziraphale is on the verge of throwing all caution to the wind anyway. The Metatron divulges to him for what exactly it is that Heaven is taking Aziraphale back into its clutches, and Aziraphale exchanges a single, vulnerable look with Crowley which could say a million different things— You were right—I wish you were with me—or is it just a goodbye? And then he gets in the elevator anyway, and flashes the creepiest smile we’ve ever gotten from Aziraphale during the entirety of the show. To me, this is the demented expression of a not-man who is realising he has absolutely nothing to lose.

Personally, I think that Heaven won’t know what hit them.

[eccentrcks]

WIP Wednesday

I’m pretty sure someone tagged me before @sergeiravenov, but I count find them in my notifications. 😭 anyways, thank you so much for the tag and I’ll do three pieces of my girls.

Gone Through Time

Marlene can still smell the stench of death through her nightmares and hallucinations. A rather familiarized smell, but that was something she hated. Especially if it involved him. I’m sorry, Anthony… she wanted to hold him close to her and apologize profusely for being the cause of his death.

“It wasn’t your fault.” His hallucination form would try to console her. It didn’t do much, in fact, seeing him this way just made it worse. Covered and blood with a metal shard shoved into his sternum. His bashed head caused from the impact of falling just made her go through a bad spiral as her PTSD was triggered badly.

She gagged so much after sobbing hard while yanking on her own hair. Even thrown back about five decades in the last, his ghost still follows her.

Her moments of pure vulnerability mostly happened in private. Completely overwhelmed after holding all of this pain in after repressing all of that grief and all.

Dane was right. Her eyes showed more grief and pain more than her face, she needed to keep this under control so no one can detect her true identity at the CIA. She didn’t had her antidepressants on her, not that they’ll do any help, yet the man insists she gets it together.

“Don’t let Adler catch onto you. He’s already suspicious enough. Just say the word and I’ll get one of our own to deter him off your tail.” He insists.

Marlene shook her head in refusal. “I can handle that asshole by myself, just… just let me do this. I’m sorry, it’s just a panic attack. I’ll make sure it won’t happen again.” She’s Mylene to them, not Marlene, they only see a typical linguist among them. Not the real her.

Dane bit his inside cheek and gave her a look when she said that. Something tells him that she’s telling that to herself instead of him.

The Collapses of Three Facades

Teresa felt numb when finding out that she was pregnant. She was already responsible for three lives who are so precious that were given to her by someone who genuinely trusted her. A part of her wasn’t sure who exactly the father is, but some part of her says she already knows.

Does it really matter at this point? They were nothing more than friends with benefits and both made sure that it was nothing more. Although Teresa was painfully aware that he wanted a big family of his own someday with someone whom he trusts and actually loves.

And she’s positive that it wasn’t her.

There was no room to get pregnant on this job. She was far from done and this revelation is nothing more than an obstacle. No one would approve of this, neither her mother, or them, and if they were to find out about her little escapees. He would be dead.

So no, Teresa knows this is way too risky for the two of them. Her soft brown eyes glanced at the box of morning after pills and gulped. Surely it won’t hurt that bad, won’t it? She can handle some bad cramps, but not the emotional impact of killing her own unborn baby.

Distortion and Clarity

Jane lost feeling to her fingers and continued scurrying away while cradling her left injured hand. Breathing heavily as she continuously looked over her shoulder.

Not sure if she can wear anymore rings after this.

Everything doesn’t feel right and it was suffocating her. She can feel herself twitching and almost hyperventilating. Everything was loud again. Michael wasn’t here to comfort her this time, no, she needs him, he always knew what to do compared to everyone else.

It wasn’t long before she slipped and fallen into a puddle of blood in the dark hallway…the texture was thick, that she almost gagged, and the clumps certainly didn’t helped her sensitive sensory, then she realizes there was more than just blood.

Jane was completely shaking when she lifted her bloodied hand to see hair tangled with her fingers and the sight was enough for her to actually vomit this time.

Tagging: @efingart, @revnah1406, @alypink, @adlerboi, @welldonekhushi, @walder-138, @alexxmason, @ravsbloodbunny, @starcrossedspirit, @rosebarry16, @kaitaiga, @sleepyconfusedpotato, and you 🫵 (the tag list is small because it won’t let be tag others for some reason-)

[pabit]

good evening. my best wishes to you, and habit’s recovery.

i also see you made cookies. do you like to bake?

Ah. A question about me, hm? I’m flattered - no one else usually gives a shit.

Say, why don’t I tell you all a little bit about myself? I’ve got the time to type.

—

Hundreds of lives ago, our mother taught Michael how to bake when we were ten years old. Michael got really good at it, so I also decided to pick it up too. I would practice making bread in the middle of the night and rob him of sleep so he couldn’t practice during the day. I thought it would make me feel as good as it did for him, especially if I was better than him at it. Well…

After dying in that life, we start all over again somewhere new as always. One summer- we're about 15 years old and just wandering aimlessly on the beach while we talked and enjoyed the sunshine. Then we started bickering over something so stupid I didn't bother to remember what it was. We're just throwing around petty insults and then I say, "I bet you couldn't bake a cake even if the only ingredient was shit."

We stop walking and Michael goes, "well duh, I don't even know how to bake." I didnt say anything for a moment, and Michael continues humorously, "but I bet I could still bake a better shit cake than you!”

I couldn't keep up the bickering after that...even though Michael remained cheerful, I just felt this horrible, aching sadness; like a hole had opened up inside me.

We went home without further argument.

Just the life prior Michael had been an amazing baker in his own right. It made him happy. I may have hated it before, but it was true. Now he knew nothing, straight back to square one, completely unaware of this fact.

Except I knew, and I felt terrible because...well, I could still remember how to bake. I've never forgotten. But Michael would have to relearn everything, including the things that helped us both survive the darkness we were stuck in.

How awful is that? Never being allowed to keep even the most innocent of memories, only for me to be the one stuck with them all. What am I supposed to do with that? Let it all go to waste?

15 year old me was pretty fucked up by this awareness for sure. I kept going over it in my head trying to make sense of things, and what I concluded was this:

My job is to protect Michael's happiness, not rob him of it for myself and do nothing with it. I felt like I stole something precious from Michael that day. I was a selfish fool; being “better” at Michael never actually made me happier in the grand scheme of things. So…

I decided I'd continue baking, from that life onwards, in honor of the memory Michael lost. I’ll hold onto it for him. I had the power to make him a little happier, even though I felt like I could only bring him pain.

Despite the tall cunt and despite my own destructive tendencies, I still managed to leave a tray of Michaels favorite treats by our bedside at least once a week.

So you could say I enjoy baking…but only because I know how much it makes other people feel better. I get nothing else out of it. It’s taken a long time to not be bitter, and I’ve done a lot of fucked shit because of it, but I’ve learned how to channel it into something positive now I think.

—

Anyways, that’s my story about the baking thing. I have many stories, but I should probably leave it at that for the moment.

Habit looks to have stopped shaking so much, but still hasn’t touched the cookies. Rude I say - my cookies are freaking awesome. I’m going to put my phone down and try talking to him again soon. -P

>>

[tarttheart]

PRECIOUS LOVE CHAPTER 10: JAMIE TARTT x YOU

summary: you finally make some progress.

word count: 960 words

warnings: language

-

chapter 10: to be a better man

It took three days for you to think that maybe you deserved better. It started with Michael pulling you into a big hug when you told him you did not think it was going to work out. He went on to reassure you that there was a long line of fit footballers you could choose from because you were, in his words, “fit as fuck”. Then, the multiple messages from Rebecca and Keeley reminding you that you were brave and amazing. Finally, there were the flowers from the De Bryunes as a little cherry on top with a strongly worded reminder about what a wonderful person you were after you messaged Kevin and Michele a sincere and heartfelt apology for being so unavailable.

So, you decided it was time to properly invest in getting better. You had had enough of a go on your own without professional help and it had gotten you nowhere. Sure, you had travelled heaps around the various regions you had been assigned to while away and done some self-care as you had initially grieved. That had been great but then, hyperfocusing on work thereafter had definitely been counterproductive. While it was great that you finally had some semblance of a social life now, calling it progress was a bit of a stretch given you had been processing for four years albeit somewhat half-heartedly.

Seeing Dr Sharon was hard. There was a lot she had needed to set right in the initial sessions. There were a lot of tears and days spent holed up at home trying to grapple with all that had come to pass. But, as the sessions wore on, you could feel some light coming back into your life and the light at the end of a very long, very dark tunnel.

Slowly, you allowed yourself to be around more things football-related. First, it was Nelson Road for an actual in-person appointment with Dr Sharon. Dr Sharon suggested it and you were not about to shy away from the challenge after making as much progress as you had. Although you had spent the better part of 15 minutes hyperventilating outside before stepping foot into the facility, what mattered was you did. Sessions expanded to having lunch and drinks with Keeley and Rebecca in Rebecca’s office. Sure, part of the reason you had had lunch with Rebecca the first time was because you had heard ruckus in the locker room and seen players streaming out as you had started down the stairs so you had retreated to Rebecca’s office for safety. Yes, it might have been rooted in fear initially but being able to be at Nelson Road was progress in itself.

Then, you started attending games with Rebecca and Keeley. The first time, Richmond were playing Aston Villa away and you happened to be in Birmingham to visit a client. Given the meeting was scheduled for a Friday, you had decided to extend your trip to Sunday to give yourself a little bit of breathing room between train journeys. But, that was where the breathing room ended. The other director had taken to you and decided to make a weekend out of it with you as their unwilling partner (something about a bad breakup and ideal girls’ trip).

You: HELP PLEASE. She was chatting to me from outside the cubicle.

Rebecca: Oh god.

Keeley: don’t hate me babes but

Keeley: what about coming to the game?

You: can I sit in the back and scroll through IG the entire time?

You: you know what, doesn’t matter. She is trying to book us in for costume karaoke. I’m in.

You had originally said you would sit in the back and ignore everything going on but were quickly sucked into the spirit of it all. How could you not? It was an exciting one with Richmond kicking a goal to win it all in the last two minutes of the match. Being in and amongst it all had brought back memories, fond memories of attending Man City matches with the De Bryunes as an extra set of hands for the children. You realised in that moment that football was not as painful a memory as you had thought it would be now. So, when the next opportunity arose to join Rebecca and Keeley in the box, you took it and you remembered that look of pride the two had as they pulled you in for a hug when you had agreed.

Taking the step to actually joining in the team celebrations and being around the team took a little more. You had started making regular appearances around Nelson Road and at matches, enough to spark speculations amongst players about your identity. Did Keeley have a new investor? Maybe Rebecca’s personal lawyer?

Jamie sat in the locker room, overcome by a weird feeling of almost deja vu after catching glimpses of you in the hallways. He always managed to dodge you before you caught sight of him, thanks to the recent agility training he had been keeping up but seeing you stirred something within him nonetheless. He remembered the way you laughed and squealed whenever they won. He remembered the way you always hugged him when he needed it. He remembered how you would give him a thumbs up whenever he looked mad about something and how it made his frustrations disappear if only for a second.

“Oh, that’s who you’re talking about. Guess she must know Keeley and Rebecca too but she’s neither an investor nor a lawyer. She works with Michael,” Colin explained one day.

“Whatever her name is, she seems like a good bottle of Nebbiolo. Elegant, understated, well-liked and very, very good.”

Fuck Richard and his perfect fucking analogy, Jamie thought to himself.

-

< chapter 9 | master list | chapter 11 >

[kamiversee]

SPARE AN EAR M’LADY👂🤺🤺 I came with some song suggestions:

Geto -> Partition by Beyoncé -> OKOK THIS SONG HAD BEEN FROLICKING IN MY MIND WHEN I READ CHAPTER 6 where geto was teasing the hell outta the reader in his driver’s car omfggg (also this song is fitting for the fun short lived fuck buddy relationship the two had because their tension was HIGHERRR than the temperature of my broke for shit thermostat on Monday & Thursday mornings) || Honorable mentions: Don’t Tell ‘Em by Jeremih & Like That by 1600j (This last song can also be for Sukuna cause sometimes he’s kindaaaa 😫😩)

Gojo -> Passionfruit by Drake -> Now this song.. mmm well I chose this song because its lyrics and overall tone parallel the gradually falling relationship between gojo and the reader. As the reader grows closer with choso, gojo painfully watches from afar. Yet, he lets it happen, silently remaining on the side and loving from a distance of a relationship that is slowly fading with each fleeting minute, especially with the list being finished. Fading that had been caused from the barriers placed more so by him because of his avoidance to explain his reasonings and motives with the list, refusal to remove the reader from completing the list, and the obvious distance between them as a resultant of the chaos from it all. In the end he can regret and reflect upon everything as many times as possible, but the aftermath of such actions are irrevocable. He comes to be aware of it, but it crashes down on him at once. Whatever happened, happened, and the reader went through messy time periods of pain and suffering, not to mention is still left to confusion since she never was given a proper answer to why she, out of anyone else he could’ve picked, was the one who had to clear the entire list alone. In that blurry midst is where she found choso, and he became to her the man that gojo longingly desired to be. To be the face to catch her smiles and looks, to hold her close, to kiss, to comfort, to get lost in her voice, to be the subject of her attention and adoration, to make her heart skip a beat or two, to share his life with, to be one with. God, he missed the opportunity for it all. At this point, this was his chance at liberating her… even if it killed him on both the internally and externally to let her out of his life. There’s only so much he can do. It’s bittersweet but genuine, knowing how gojo wants the best for her, seeing the damage actually done only in hindsight. What is more saddening is the fact that had he approached her normally from the beginning, he had the potential to already win her heart and affection since she liked him too. They could’ve been together and he could’ve bared his infinite love all to her in a way that didn’t have to hurt them both, but that route is may now just only left to the spiraling world of endless what ifs and imaginations. Nonetheless, his heart, unrequited or not, remains burning eternally solely for her.. even if alone. (My heart may or may not be trembling rn as a gojo girlie—fuckkk‼️⁉️💔💔💔 #STILLWANTHIMSOVERYBAD) || Honorable mentions: 3005 by Childish Gambino, Aphrodite by Rini, Because of You by Ne-Yo, Not Around by NOVA, & Is It A Crime by Sade

Choso -> Butterflies by Michael Jackson -> The love choso has for the reader had struck me as something tender yet mesmerizingly elevating. The essence of this song portrays exactly that with how smooth and catchy the tune falls on the ears of the listener. Personally with MJ being one of my favorite singers, the way he delivers this music makes me feel the same way as when I read a precious moment between choso and the reader. It’s of a sweet and passionate quality. In a way, it’s distinguishably special; essentially what choso feels whenever he is around her. His mood is almost always lifted when she’s alongside him and it shows in his words and expressions. Hell—so much so that he got a tattoo on his body to remember her by, a tangible declaration of his unwavering love towards her. He was even contemplating getting it initially on his NECK! HIS NECK I SAYYYY 🗣️ Even through stressful times, he couldn’t muster the will to not love her. Stuff he didn’t dare share with anyone (rightfully so), he was willing to tell the reader, being transparent, which means a lot to her. Now, I’m not glazing him to say he’s perfect as no one really is perfect in this story, but when put into perspective after everything and everyone, he’s ultimately well suited for the reader. He’s in love with her to the core, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. So yeah, this song naturally sprouted into mind ^^ || Honorable mentions: Raining Love by KYLE & Get You by Daniel Caesar

- 🧠

THE GASP I GASPED.

First off, I love you. Music is my heart and SOUL and istg the world is lucky I’m not a musically talented person BC IF I WAS…

Anywho, thank you for these songs & eloquently put breakdowns 🥹 the descriptions are beautiful, I agree with every song listed here AAAAND. We have a similar music taste so Ilysm.

AND PASSIONFRUIT IS MY FAV DRAKE SONG OF ALL TIME SO THTS KINDA CRAZY😭 I’ve said it before but I think a lot of what I listen to comes out in my works pretty often so the fact that you found songs tht I was listening to as I wrote majority of these chapters is just so amazing to me <3

Again, the descriptions & correlations are perfect, you’re amazing, Ily.

[sad-ghost-of-garbage]

Ivy Act IV

Author: SadGhostofGarbage

David x G/N reader and Michael x G/N reader

Warnings: MDNI! TOXIC relationships, DARK fic, swearing, cheating on a partner, torture, mental manipulation, pet names, David calls himself daddy but like he’s not wrong. Mentions of sex. Reader having insecurities. 

This is another Dark chapter, so read the warnings.

Act IV FALL 

You hoped you’d dream of a blizzard.

Even with closed eyelids you could feel how bright your surroundings were. With furrowed brows you struggle to keep your eyes open with the bright white light surrounding you. After managing to get your eyes adjusted, you take a look around. You were sitting under an oak tree, but everything else was a blur due to the flurries of snowflakes falling from the sky. 

A blizzard indeed.

You couldn’t see anything past the sheet of white surrounding you, everything felt blurry, foggy even, and that didn’t feel like it was from the snow. Despite the storm you find yourself standing in you still feel as though you were on fire. Panic starts to creep into your body, taking over your system until you’re shaking and on your knees. Hyper-ventilating you try and calm yourself down, but nothing is working and you still feel like you are boiling from the inside out. You were going to go insane; when you saw it. A slight shadow in the distance. Trying to wipe your tears so you could get a better look, but you were in so much pain that focusing was difficult. The shadow got bigger until It was right in front of your face. Barely managing to look up you are met with a crystal clear view of David’s face. He looks at you with a look of expectancy and question. His gaze fills your gut with guilt and shame.

“Why?” His voice was piercing yet melodic. You wanted to ask him what he meant, but you knew. You knew the moment your eyes met his, he was disappointed in you. New tears welled in your eyes as you feel every bit of guilt and shame for your actions. You swore  you’d never regret your time with… Michael, but in this moment you felt terrible for causing pain to the beautiful blonde in front of you. “I love you y/n, and this is how you respond? By stomping on my love, spitting in my face?” Crying openly you try to tell him you’re sorry that you didn’t want to hurt him, but you don’t get a word out. “Save it. I don’t need to hear excuses.” He grabs your jaw and jerks it back and forth a bit before running a covered thumb over your lips. “I need you to do something for me, can you do that?” You manage a sort of nod, because his grip on your jaw does not loosen nor do you get the impression he wants you to speak. “Good, now I need you to make a choice, I shouldn’t really trust your judgment after the last decision you made, but to be fair Michael coerced you into making a really stupid decision. For this however I am going to tell you now, you’re mine. I don’t care what Michael said. You. Are. Mine.” The way he says Michael’s name is like he is spitting bile from his mouth. It contains no hatred, yet there is a rage that can’t be masked. “So no matter what you choose, you're mine. But how we get there is up to you kitten. I am going to make sure you never need another person, never want another. Any and everything you need will come from me. You can admit your rightful place is here by my side or you can fight. Be warned kitten, if you fight I will make the pain you experience when I alter your mind excruciating. I will make you see your precious Michael as he torments you, I will not spare a single gory memory of what he's done to you. Now. Choose.” Michael had done terrible things to you, no matter the reason, you couldn't remove that from your mind. Michael had hurt you. Every time you closed your eyes you saw Michael. Not the sweet loving Michael who made flowers blooming in your chest no, you saw the monster that he warned you he was. You could feel his hands burning your skin as he broke your bones, could feel the liquid fire every time he sunk his fangs into your flesh and tore chunks off. No longer could you think of him as anything other than anguish. Your heart didn’t call for the warmth, as you knew it brought only blistering pain. David’s icy blue eyes sent chills over your body leaving behind a cool numb, and god it was comforting. You knew you fucked up, you had betrayed David and yet he still saved you from Michael. He still loves you after everything you’ve done to hurt him, he still wants to take care of you. And you break down sobbing, gripping at David’s coat, stuttering out, apologizing and begging forgiveness. David’s facial expression is neutral as he says,

“I need to hear you say it.” Looking up at David you know what he means. Part of you is screaming, telling you to run. This is what Michael warned you about, the predator that Michael is adamant that David is. But it hadn’t been David who lost control and nearly drank you dry, it had been Michael. The half of you that was still in love with Michael was fighting, screaming at you to listen, telling you this was wrong. But you couldn’t care, you just wanted to fix your mistakes. You wanted the cold comfort that David had always given you. With a shaky breath and as much courage as you could muster you made your choice.

“I’m yours David.” The smile that erupts on his face filled your heart with everything you were missing. The joy you feel as he pets your hair, as he looks at you with pride shining bright in his eyes. And in that moment you knew you’d do anything for him to always look at you like that.

“Good kitty, now let daddy make everything all better.”

Taglist: @britany1997 @henhouse-horrors​ Thanks for the support babes! Again if you want to be tagged in the Ivy fic or any of my TLB fics just ask :)

[magicthatmustbelove]

Right Back Where We Started From

From: "Reviere"

A follow-up to the "Best Of Joy" imagine in which Y/N and Michael are unintentionally expanding their family at 51 and 45 and must break the news to their five other kids.

Note: This is the one and only This Is It Era imagine that I have done and will ever do. Just wanted to post something a little joyful on today in an alternate universe where June 25th never happened.

TII Era

Link to original imagine: https://www.wattpad.com/941880667-reverie-michael-jackson-imagines-best-of-joy%E2%9C%A8

“You fill up my senses, 

Like a night in the forest

Like the mountains in springtime

Like a walk in the rain

Like a storm in the desert.

Like a sleepy blue ocean

You fill up my senses

Come fill me again,”

You pulled the flannel blanket up to your chest with a contented sigh, the glow of the fire kept you warm but couldn’t compete with the warmth you felt in your heart, watching your beautiful family. 

Your son Mikey sang the John Denver tune beautifully as he strummed his guitar. There was no doubt he’d inherited his musical talent from his father. Clair and Sean gently swayed in their chairs while your twin girls, Wendy and Eliza were tucked on either side of Michael’s lap. Your dog Hooter slept soundly under your chair. 

You tried picturing the small baby that would be here in the next seven months and how they’d fit in among the diverse personalities of your other kids. 

It had been days since you’d discovered that you were pregnant with your sixth child at forty-five years old but it still didn’t feel real. It was such a huge risk to take. You hadn’t had a newborn in the house for nearly eight years and you were sure you were completely done having babies.   

Life has thrown you a curveball; a sweet, precious little bundle of joy. 

Michael had taken the news very well but you had yet to tell your kids that the family was expanding. Your eldest, Clair, was headed back to college in the morning so you and your husband figured it was the perfect time to give the news. 

You catch Michael's ardent gaze, the glow of the fire highlighting his handsome bone structure. You grin, extending your hand to hold his. 

“Our kids are so amazing. We’ve got such a great family,” you whisper. 

Michael smiles before gently kissing your knuckles. 

“Our new edition is gonna make everything perfect,” He replied. 

Mikey had set down his guitar and the family loudly applauded. You suddenly find yourself tearing up, hot tears streaming down your face. 

Your hormones have been in overdrive lately.

“What’s wrong, Mom?” Mikey asked, squinting through the fire to see your tearful reaction. 

Your husband grins, leaning over to rub your back.

“I’m fine,” You assure your teenager. “It’s just such a beautiful song. It always makes me cry,” 

Clair smiles as she pushes her long curly hair away from her face.

“I admit, it was beautiful. I didn’t know you had it in you, twerp,”

She playfully punches her brother’s arm.

“It was excellent, son,”  Michael complimented. “Keep practicing that guitar. Who knows, maybe one day we could work on something together,” 

A big grin stretches across your son's face, pleased with his father’s approval. 

You smile and push the blanket off your lap. 

“Who wants s'mores?” You ask

Your kids’s faces lit up from the youngest to the oldest. 

“Me! Me!” The twins cheer. 

Hooter barks, joining in their excitement. You giggle before turning to Michael. 

“Sweetie, will you help me get the stuff for the s’mores?’ 

Your husband nods. 

“Of course, baby,” 

He gently scoots the twins off his lap before helping you out of your chair. Truthfully, you needed no help at all getting the ingredients for the snack but your nerves were on edge, worrisome about how to break the news to your kids.

You open the cupboard, your eyes landing on the bag of marshmallows at the top self. Before you can stretch on your toes to get them, Michael effortlessly grabs them. 

You heave a heavy sigh. 

“Baby, what’s wrong? Are you feeling okay?”

A small grin tugs at your lips as you retrieve a box of graham crackers. 

“I feel fine, Mike. I’m just nervous about telling the kids about the new baby,”

Your husband grins. 

“I’m sure they’ll take it well, Y/N. The girls would love a baby brother or sister,”

You break a square off a Hershey’s bar, sighing as you nibble into it. 

“That’s because they never had one,” you reply, matter-of-factly. “Our older ones have already gotten the experience. It’s not like this is our second or third child, Mike. This is number six,” 

“I come from a large family and we never complained when Mother was havin’ another baby,” Michael shrugged. “Our kids will be fine,”

You sigh again. 

“I sure hope so,” 

The kids had grown restless by the time you returned and you figured you’d wait until they’d stuffed their mouths to break the news.  You were roasting marshmallows for your third s’more, your kids entertaining themselves with a twig branch duel when you decided you couldn't take it anymore. 

You glanced at Michael, giving him a knowing look.  

“Hey gang!” he calls softly, whistling to get their attention. “Time out for a moment. Everybody sit down. Your mother and I have something we wanna tell ya,” 

Your children got the last bit of giggles out of their system before plopping down in the chairs. Wendy rushed up to you and you grinned before pulling her into your lap. A silence fell among the seven of you and a worried expression settled on Clair's face. 

Your husband stood and grabbed your hand as you took a deep breath. 

“Your dad and I,” you started slowly. “We're going to have another baby. I'm pregnant,” 

Your oldest let out a sigh of relief,  a hand pressed to her chest. 

“Oh mom, you have no idea how nervous you made me,” she grins. “I'm happy for you and Daddy,” 

Your youngest son's face twists into a confused expression. 

“But you and dad are so old,” Sean muses. “How did that even happen?” 

“Same way you got here, son,” Michael replies. 

You giggle and Sean pulls a disgusted expression. 

“Ha! Good luck!” Mikey turns to his brother with a laugh. “I'm going off to school next year while you get to be on diaper duty,” 

You shoot him a stern glare.  

“I mean, congrats Mom and Dad,”

You hug Wendy to your chest tighter with a smile. 

“I know it might seem unfair with school and teenage life and Daddy just starting to be home again, “ You speak, glancing into the eyes of each of your babies. “But I promise. Nothing is gonna change. We’ll still be our strong, loving family unit,” 

“Can we get a little sister?” Eliza questions while bouncing on Clair's knee. 

Michael smiles. 

“We'll get whatever God blesses us with, Princess,” he replies. 

You smile at your husband, suddenly never loving more than you did at that moment. 

A weight feels like it's been lifted off your shoulders. The news had seemed to go over well. All that was left was surviving the ups and downs of the next seven months but with your family at your side, you knew you could survive anything.

✨

[ludinusdaleth]

I think I'll go for 4, 5 and 24—dealer's choice as to which of Artagan, Ludinus or Ira (or any npc, really. They don't get enough love.)

oh you have no idea the can of warms you've opened, lol.... i will happily do all 3!

this got so long i actually had to put a read more:

4. If you could put this character in any other media, be it a book, a movie, anything, what would you put them in?

artagan - it isnt media per say but i really want to set him loose in our own reality and see what he'd do (there have been some hints i think, if half-jokingly said, that hes been here - boy do i think about that often.)

ira - we really should just let him star in his own horror movie. you could put him in a guillermo del toro film, and no one would bat an eye.

ludinus - i want to see how lud would react to faerun. a world so close to his own, but where the weave of magic is directly controlled by a god. there is an odd dichotomy in that faerun is more controlled than exandria and yet breaking that universe's laws are infinitely easier, and i think he would fall into obsession with that.

5. What's the first song that comes to mind when you think about them?

so.... im gonna (un)ashamedly plug my playlists for them here.... please ignore that they can go as long as twelve fucking hours.... ill try to narrow down specific songs that REALLY hit about them, though.

artagan - "within you" by david bowie, from labyrinth, is a perfect fit. not only is arti based on jareth but the song's meaning directly ties into him & jester. jareth is terrified of being nothing more than a lost concept, a lost celebrity crush made fae king, as sarah is metaphorically maturing. "how you turn my world, you precious thing/You starve and near exhaust me/Everything I've done, I've done for you/I move the stars for no one..." i mean, c'mon. "family of me" by ben folds, "celebrity status" by mariana's trench, "lapis lazuli" by the oh hellos, and "due west" by kelsey lu also really hit as arti songs for me.

ira - "mad iqs" by i dont know how but they found me is a really good song for ira's hatred of ludinus. "a mask of my own face" by lemon demon is self explanatory and far too specific, due to his fascination with ashton's mask of him, with the song mentioning "dancing with all the bells". he would go wild for and try to emulate "thriller" by michael jackson or "i cant decide" by the scissor sisters.

ludinus - if i did a speedpaint of lud, id set it to "science fiction" by church of the cosmic skull. "and all the people, they stood on their chairs, and they stared, at the man with the silver hair/taken the findings of the science man/raising his hands to the air!/so he's making the minds up of the millions, and they'd never deny that he's right/cause he's taken a prize of many a size/if ever he dies he'll have a tombstone of a very high height". "brutus" by the buttress is ABSOLUTELY a ruby vanguard trio song and i even used it in my art of them before. "all history is vengeance" by brad derrick from the eso soundtrack is what goes through my head at the malleus key. "blood upon the snow" by hozier & "never look away" by vienna teng also really work for him. i think "survivors guilt" by emily axford (yeah, prism) also has lyrics FAR too tailored to him - "i see you in my dreams/young, and brave, and pre-calamity/i will tell you a story/i will be the voice you lost too soon/because even in your absence, even in your death/im still your moon".

24. What other character from another fandom of yours that reminds you of them?

(i wouldnt say im in the fandoms for all of these, but)

artagan - i think it somewhat obvious he's based off of jareth in labyrinth - his voice is basically david bowie's singing voice. to a lesser but still strong degree he's very much marvel's loki, down to the voice - if, honestly, an infinitely better take on the trickster god. as a past extreme loki fan the pipeline is there for sure.

ira - ashley said she & matt based fearne's story off a guillermo del toro film and i can see that in many fae this go-round, especially ira. he is basically a doug jones character. it's very easy to compare him to creepypastas like the russian sleep experiment or slenderman, too.

ludinus - he has some heavy similarities to emperor belos of owl house, vyrthur of tes, prince nuada from hellboy, and other characters who fit the archetype of a white-haired, ancient, pale elven (or elven passing) man, from a different time, who murders & (in some cases) colonizes to exact vengeance on gods, humans, or similar entities he feels have destroyed those around him. characters clearly in the wrong but who do bring up important topics of the endless cycle of brutality they were caught in, mixed with their privelege in every other circumstance. he also reminds me of mannimarco of tes. they look exactly alike and both shadow run an empire, somewhat in cahoots and yet at odds with a balding white haired pale human man within that same empire. oh! and fëanor from the silmarillion.

thanks for asking! sorry this is so long, floodgates are opened when i discuss men i wish were my fictional partners, lol.

[breathenbounce]

SITTING IN DARKNESS

I have said to many people I know and even on the show, that this is the best I have been feeling for a while. It's actually the happiest I have ever been. I have learned how to love myself and the skin I am in, not carry the burden of things that I have done in the past, and just be eternally grateful for the life I have and the opportunities that come with it.

However, anyone who practices knows, we live in a state of impermanence. We say to ourselves our sadness won't be forever; however, some forget that goes the other way as well. Happiness doesn't last forever, as I have hit a depressive block.

Usually what anyone, including me once upon a go, we try to shake off the pain. We try to distract ourselves from it. Maybe we eat an unhealthy but tasty snack or meal. Maybe we go on a crazy shopping spree. Maybe people watch porn. Anything to escape all that pain inside.

In yoga, we're told to sit with the feeling of a pose. Don't shake it off. The mat translates to life. We do one thing, that's how we do everything. This is true when it comes to heavy feelings. One of the things I always talk about on the show is how the bad choice is usually the easiest. All the vices and distractions I listed are very easy things to do and they're the band aid to the bigger problem. So, what is the hard choice?

Like in yoga, we sit with that feeling. We observe how we feel and notice everything. It may not happen right away, but with practice and work we absorb the feeling and then let it go. I know I make it sound really easy, but it's definitely tough. That is why practice is required. Also, patience, and compassion.

The patience needs to be there in order to be mindful about what's happening and understanding that you don't just get to shake it off and its gone. You have to absorb, feel, witness, and then let go. You also need to have compassion for yourself because what you're going through is shitty most likely.

When we learn to sit with the feeling, we develop strength. We learn the art of perseverance and resilience. These are two important skills to master. Both take time to learn, but perhaps you can do other things to deal with your feelings. You can journal what's going on, meaning you are giving the sadness a name. It's like the sadness is your baby and you have to embrace it. Why? Because it's all part of the human experience. We breathe, feel, eat, sleep. It's all part of it. We feel emotions, we dream up thoughts and it is through this we take actions. Either we run and eat the ice cream, or we sit and meditate and observe how we're feeling.

I used to choose option one, but I have been working on option two and it is helping me deal with my brain says and the shitty sad feeling. Nothing comes easy. You have to practice, and practice makes progress. Not always as fast as you'd like, but the progress comes.

It's just remembering always no mood stays that way forever. Life is so precious and impermanent. We just have to ride shit out sometimes, but we must also the victories and the wins. The clock swings left to right. The yin and the yang. One day after the next.

Just try to live the best you can and don't worry. You can talk to someone about depression. If you don't have anyone, call 988. That's what I did this week. I felt better.

And I want to see you all feel better.

Much love; namaste

Michael

[warningsine]

A few thoughts on last night's UnREAL — and the unfortunate path the show has taken since a promising start to season 2 — coming up just as soon as you stop by my office in five minutes...

On paper, last night's UnREALcouldn't have been more unfortunately timely, as the story featured a black man getting shot by cops after being pulled over. In execution, though, the Romeo incident typifiedseason 2 as a whole: just another crazy thing that happened without the proper setup or fallout.

In that initial review of the season, I alluded to the introduction of Coleman as the one disheartening aspect of those first two episodes. Not only has Michael Rady never been particularly interesting in the previous shows I'd seen him on, but the network putting Coleman in charge of Everlasting, after only one episode of the Chet vs. Quinn dynamic, which itself came right after only one episode of the new Quinn/Rachel dynamic, suggested a show that couldn't stop itself from adding more characters, more storylines, and more conflict, even though it already had plenty to spare. There was probably at least a half-season just in Rachel dealing with being the new Quinn, and Quinn being the new Chet, and that was tossed aside almost instantly for something new, which was itself abandoned for something else, and on and on. Crazy things keep happening because someone — whether Lifetime execs or  Sarah Gertrude Shapiro, who directed last night's episode, and is running the show on her own this season after Marti Noxon's departure — has decided that this is UnREAL's brand, and if they can't keep finding ways to top themselves, people will lose interest.

But everything keeps happening so quickly, and without any proper dramatic foundation, that none of it matters at all. Darius has barely even registered as a character, and it's telling that once the episode cuts away from the shooting scene, we don't see him again. His reaction to his cousin getting shot ultimately is irrelevant to what the show is really interested in: the battle for control of Everlasting, the Rachel/Coleman/Adam triangle, and Rachel's deteriorating mental health. Those could all be fine subjects for the show to be interested in — the last one, and what Shiri Appleby has been doing with it, is basically the only part of the season of late that feels up to the standards of what the show did a year ago — but doing a Black Lives Matter story as a throwaway to fuel the ongoing conflicts at the show is just in bad taste. Either explore the idea thoroughly in this fictional context — including a whole lot more legal/public aftermath from the incident, from Darius's reaction to the cops confiscating all of Rachel's precious footage as evidence — or don't do it at all.

Pat Riley once coined the phrase "the Disease of More" to refer to the way that, after a winning season, players on a team can start looking out for themselves (seeking more points, more money, etc.) rather than each other. But TV shows can suffer a similar Disease of More, where they keep trying to top the things they've done before, piling incident on top of incident until it's all numbing. When everything is shocking, nothing is, and when nothing is properly set up, everything feels flimsy. It feels like someone looked at Mary's death last season — probably that year's shakiest moment — and decided, "Okay, that's our show."

I was really happy when Constance Zimmer and the series' pilot script got Emmy nominations last week. Season 1 was a genuinely great season of TV. But the current one has me very worried.

[casspurrjoybell-27]

In a Heartbeat - Chapter 24 - Part 1

*Warning Adult Content*

Vince

I had skipped the subsequent doses since my time in the basement.

Although everything felt out of whack, it was safe to say that I could shift.

I had practiced three times since then, all of which Xavier stayed to watch in case anything happened.

He had also taken it upon himself to keep the pills on him so I didn't feel the need to take it.

As much as I wanted to down some pills, I knew everything could go back to normal as soon I finished dealing with Michael later on today.

The shifts were still painful but I had slowly gotten accustomed to it and my wolf was probably enjoying this way more than I had.

I could tell Xavier wasn't enjoying it but I could care less.

He needed to see that this needed to be done in order for me to stop Michael.

"We have an hour," Xavier said as we headed to the RCPP.

"The Betas will stay at the pack boundary line. I'll have Dwaine and Lucas with us."

I hummed as we entered the building, a few of the staff greeting us.

Some got us refreshments as we headed to the small conference room.

As they stood there expectantly, I frowned.

"Can you give us some privacy?"

They hurriedly ran off, leaving us the pitcher of water.

Xavier grabbed some water before turning to me.

"You think you'll be alright if it comes down to a fight?"

"Is that concern?"

I nearly laughed.

"You didn't look happy that I had shifted."

"As much as you annoy me, I don't trust Michael if he becomes the Alpha. He's too unpredictable."

"That won't happen," I told him.

"Over my dead body will he become Alpha."

I couldn't help but notice how eerily quiet the forest was as we approached the clearing.

Even the bird calls and chirps of smaller animals had all but vanished.

Xavier and the others followed close behind as we finally got a glimpse of Michael in his human form.

With that signature smug look, he almost appeared bored standing there with his arms crossed.

I was expecting his whole posse to show up, or at least a couple of loyal rogues he snagged along the way but it was just him.

A part of me half-expected Simon to be there as well, like some kind-of hostage situation.

For some reason, seeing him all alone gave me a strange feeling in my chest.

I blamed it on the lack of meds but a part of me still wondered.

"Where is he?" I demanded.

Michael's brow rose, as if in curiosity.

He scoffed.

"You think he'd wanna be here? To witness me kick your ass?"

"Where is he?"

"I didn't promise you to bring him here. You think I keep tabs on him? That's your job, not mine."

He rolled his eyes.

"Besides, you think he'd be dumb enough to show his face around here? You're truly dumber than I thought."

"I haven't seen Simon in months," he explained.

"But that doesn't mean I could kill him if you hadn't shown."

I snarled, wanting to punch him square in the jaw but Xavier held me back.

Unamused, Michael spoke..

"You haven't changed, Vince. Father's rage still flows within you. Never thinking, just doing. No wonder history is repeating. You must be making him real proud, aren't you?"

The sarcasm that dripped in his tone made me want to break his neck.

Without Xavier, Dwaine or Lucas here I probably would have too.

"What do you want?" I growled.

He sniggered.

"You know, I thought a lot about things. I could make things real simple. Kill Simon, kill your precious pack mates. Maybe even kill Sarah the same way you killed David. An eye for an eye kind of thing, you know? But what better way to get my revenge than take what you love. You don't love Simon, you could care less about your packmates, I don't think you even really love Sarah either. But since you act and think so much like father, there's one thing I know the both of you love more than anything."

Every second, the urge to attack him grew exponentially but nevertheless, I held my tongue.

I already knew where he was going with this.

"You two love power. Crave it and I know you don't want to give that up, which is exactly why I brought you here. Granted, I didn't expect you to bring a whole crew but even I know that you respect tradition. After all, it's not the first time our family has fought for the Alpha role before," he glanced at Dwaine, who clenched his jaw.

It was a sore spot for him, considering our fathers, brothers had fought for the Alpha role a long time ago.

"You won't win," I spat.

"We'll see about that. Shift," he commanded with a smirk.

He crossed his arms, waiting for me to follow.

Reluctantly, I grit my teeth before shifting just as I had done this morning.

It was still painful but a hundred times better than the first time.

"I'm impressed," he scoffed.

"I figured your wolf would've died by now, given all those drugs."

"Shut up," I said.

He huffed before shifting as well.

Xavier, Lucas, and Dwaine stepped off to the side, watching with bated breaths as Michael stood tall in his wolf form.

His wolf looked jarringly similar to our fathers, pitch black with piercing gold eyes.

The only difference was the white splotch on one of his back legs, the same splotch mother had.

In the back of my mind there was a slight fear that maybe I wasn't as prepared as I thought I was.

After all, Xavier was right to say that he was unpredictable, a real mystery.

We didn't know what kind of tricks he had up his sleeve.

But I wasn't going down without a fight.

But it appeared Michael was relaxed, almost mockingly too calm about the situation.

His tail resting in a relaxed state with his ears up and relaxed as well.

It was the same attitude he carried in my dream, I could just picture that stupid smirk on his face.

I growled, lowering my upper body, my tail in an alert position.

He didn't seem to care as I approached him slowly.

'If you wanna fight, then let's fight,' I snarled.

[petalsmooth]

When you read a long thread about how they dislike Polin and if up to them Penelope would be "independent" alone etc. etc (pretending they want this because they care about the character)...and how they hope another storyline overshadows their story like the Featherington's overshadowed Kate/Anthony and end up with tags for Kanthony.

Way to prove what everyone thinks of your fanbase as being true and invalidate EVERYTHING you said about Polin.

The Featherington's did NOT overshadow Kate and Anthony. Kate and Anthony had the most screen time. The damn triangle overshadowed your precious couple. That isn't Charithra's fault either, she did her job. It's the former showrunner and others who signed off on the plot.

It will never cease to amaze me why that fanbase continues to embarrass themselves claiming the Featherington's impacted in ANYWAY their storyline. They were around in season one you know and Daphne and Simon's story did quite well. Luke, Nicola and the Featherington characters had nothing to do with the mess that was Anthony proposing to the wrong sister while the sister he actually loves denies her feelings most of the timeline and then insists he keep the engagement when he is looking for a way out.

As for a story overshadowing, it isn't going to happen. As bad as that story was, it still was the main plotline. As will be Colin and Penelope. Nothing will overshadow that. Except maybe a Whistledown reveal to the ton but that is part of their story too soo...

However if people enjoy other stories that cool with me because I'm hopeful I will too. Unlike these nutcases, I actually like the Bridgerton's and Will and while I don't love Portia and Prudence (because their characters thus far haven't been lovable) they serve their roles as antagonists/villains/comedic relief well depending on what they are given to play.

When I say I don't love them btw, mean the characters. I LOVE the actress playing Portia. But like with Marina, she hasn't presented herself yet as a person I could like. I can understand certain motivations driving choices made, but that doesn't mean I have to LIKE you. There are some other characters that do things I may not agree with, but show more conflicted feelings about what they've done. Portia and Marina for the most part never rarely have done so and usually just when caught out. It isn't the same thing.

The first time I felt anything actually real from Portia was the last episode of season 2 when she makes it clear Lord Featherington trying to ditch her daughters was a line not to be crossed. Even if she doesn't always (often) treat well, you did finally see her a mother for one.

And I want Francesca to marry John because I personally like her story with Michael and you can't get to that one without the one with John. Which may sound horrible as means he dies, but this is fiction. Not real life.

And I like seeing Cressida constantly upstaged given the way she acts and Lady Danbury although really I hate the sl from Queen Charlotte for her with Ledger so I'm less enthused because of that....and I love Queen Charlotte and so forth. Personally I think some people need to get over themselves, realize you can love all the characters and otherwise shut the hell up about their narrow view of a Kanthony hour only. Because you will never have that. No "couple" fan ever will.

[playhousemassacrez]

Your takes on Susie and Elizabeth are absolutely PRECIOUS! Though, since I also saw an older ver of Liz-does she happen to survive or become humanoid at all in your AU?

Aaaaaaaaah! Thank you so much! I’m glad you like them!

So about that older Lizzy, allow me to explain:

So Elizabeth’s soul was split into two; one was her true self, who was always kind and energetic, despite her bratty and spoiled nature, and an evil side, like her father, William. Both souls were still inside Circus Baby until the good Elizabeth was freed.

She then joined her baby brother, Evan, and best friend, Charlie, up in heaven where she would be explained by Charlie about what her father has done before her death. After Elizabeth was told everything, she began to hate her dad with a passion.

But both Elizabeth, Charlie and Evan didn’t want to be in heaven while Michael was struggling to survive against his dad, so they hatched an idea.

Elizabeth, Charlie and Evan all knew about how the other victims were still alive after returning from earth, so they decided to do that, but instead of becoming Humanoids (a human version of the canon Animatronic but still being made of bone, flesh and blood), they wanted to return to earth as themselves.

1. Charlie missed her dad as much as her dad missed her and her older sister, Marianna, who’s this version of The Puppet/Marionette.

2. Elizabeth and Evan forgave their older brother immediately after they heard about him keeping their stuff like a hoarder to remember the good times they had before their father murdered Charlie, but they wanted to know if he really changed.

So, both Elizabeth, Charlie and Evan returned to earth as angelic entities that almost look to real to be true. No halos, no wings, no problem. The kids went their separate ways and headed off on their journeys.

Elizabeth and Evan took shelter in Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza for the night so they can continue their quest to find Michael in the morning, but that was until Freddy saw them. He immediately knew who they were and hid Elizabeth and Evan until they were ready to see Michael again.

So Freddy mostly took care of Elizabeth and Evan until one night, everyone, except Toy Bonnie (whom I named her Bonbon cuz TB is a girl in my AU), Goldie, The Puppet, Poppy and the Toy Story gang, went berserk, thanks to their souls returning to their bodies after they found out about Evan and Elizabeth living inside the pizzeria.

After Toy Bonnie, Goldie and The Puppet stopped Cassidy and freed everyone, Elizabeth and Evan run into Michael, who at first thought he was dreaming but soon realized they were really real and was so happy to see them again.

After they happily reunited, Elizabeth and Evan now grew under Michael’s care and are now teenagers. Now Elizabeth is a confident and fearless sixteen year old girl with her hopes of trying to be her own person, not like what her father wanted her to actually be, and Evan is a fourteen year old boy with a talent for art, and has reunited with his old plush Fredbear.

The Afton kids are now finally together and are all ready to take their father down to hell where the devil will wait for him, with the help of Freddy of course.

As for the bad Elizabeth, she wouldn’t return to earth until 2023/the Pizzeria Simulator timeline as Scrap Baby. She is now currently an much “older” and evil version of Elizabeth as she works alongside her father. Just like she wanted.