#also i swear sometimes i forget that he used to be a twink

[hattiestgal]

Have some boy in these trying times...

[uardito]

In defense of taking and sending nudes

Big budget pornographers and pretty much all advertisers have oddly similar and narrow views on sexy.

These kinds of muscles in these places. These skin colors. These eye colors. Unless we’re doing one of the exotic angles: Can you do the bear? The I-swear-this-isn’t-pederasty twink? (No judgments.) The submissive Asian? The aggressive Black top? Can you do Latin heat, papi?

And honestly, I never could.

As a kid, this would really bother me. I’d beat off to Corbin Fischer-type crap that left me feeling sexually inert, incapable of creating a sexual response in someone. I’m too dark for mainstream stroke material, not Latin enough for the fetishists. Plus, I was never in as good of shape as them. While acne and life’s other peculiarities left their marks on my skin, they somehow never touched theirs; how could I possibly think I was sexy?

I wondered how to find other young gay guys and Corbin Fischer filled the boy I was with such fears of isolation. If that’s who I was looking for, I knew they were nowhere to be found, nowhere within my experience anyway.

If you think about it, that’s a weird place to be in: desexualized, filled with sexual desire and nowhere to put it. I wonder what the fallout from that might be?

The Fall of the Power of Porn

Today, pornographers are going out of business “No one wants to pay for porn anymore.” Honestly, for me, money has less to do with it; I’m just not beating off to their videos. I don’t think they’re hot. I’m not feeling their models. I’m not feeling their videos’ shallow, surreal sexual hookups. It fetishizes sex that’s impossible to have with people who barely exist.

More shallow than Grindr? Yes. Much. Next to porn, even next to the normalizing and desexualizing mainstream gay political discourse, online dating or cruising in general is a thought-provoking and radical reclamation of sexual power.

It starts with writing our profiles. It starts with taking sexualized pictures of ourselves. It becomes dangerous and radical when we send those pictures.

They often play a role in how we negotiate sex with each other. And suddenly we’re not looking to unreal and exaggerated bodies of porn–we’re sexualizing the people we’re actively trying to have sex with as opposed to trying to push our sexual partners and sex to look more like porn.

Randall Munroe, https://xkcd.com/598/

Outside that, it empowers us to see ourselves sexually and have that reaffirmed by other people’s sexual attraction, even if we have no intention or even ability to touch those enjoying our digital depiction. Don’t think for a moment that I’m above this. People have either seen me naked or masturbated with me, people as close as down the street to some on the other side of the world. The latter case was particularly important when I was living in a part of the country where I wasn’t seen as that attractive. I could hop online and be reminded that I had sexual power, though I felt mostly powerless at my digs in Georgia at the time.

Cock blocked by sexual panic

Of course, abandoning the sexual institutions of old doesn’t mean that they’ve abandoned us. Respectability, fear, modesty, shame: they’re all hallmarks of this discussion.

Watch, by way of an example, RJ Aguiar’s Dick Pic Etiquette which in the course of only seven minutes manages an advertisement for a new dating platform AND provides a tour of heteronormative sexual pathology and anxiety. (I pick on RJ here only because I’m a big fan of his work, but what he says there echoes idiotic stuff said on national and international television by every other reputable person in news.) He alternates between classist tropes — like the idea that our sexual propositions not be exclusively sexual but also include some bourgeois notion of artistic value — to cataloging every way sexualizing ourselves could lead to disaster, including legal peril and the fear of exposure should any of our pictures stay on any networkable devices…

Me impersonating RJ safeguarding his erotic self-portraiture in one of the only non-networkable devices in my apartment.

Listening to him and other pundits go off, I’m reminded of the history of hysteria regarding sex that’s haunted us for centuries: The sometimes comical, sometimes downright horrifying efforts to prevent children from masturbating in the 18th and 19th century (Buzzfeed article, MentalFloss article); various sexuality-inspired hysterias in the 20th century like the McMartin trial (about sex abuse in education at the end of the 20th century); and the modern day paranoia about transfolk who need to pee.

Not to say that the anxieties of RJ and his hysterical kin are entirely unfounded, but it’s so easy for him and other people doing the committed monogamy thing to be terrified by the lives of people who are doing things differently. They have no skin in the game. They don’t have to cruise for sex or love when they’re horny or lonely. This fear mongering justifies decisions that they’ve already made and distances themselves from parts of their lives they’re eager to forget. Their hysteria encourages heteronormativity, encourages traditional values, encourages pursuing relationships just like your probably-miserable straight parents did and protects boring porn and a hateful ad industry.

Rejecting this sexual morality and hysteria is not always easy. That rejection threatens pillars of American society (probably only nominally). But by rejecting that we gain power over our sexual fantasies and capacities.

If you’re capable of sexual fantasy, you’re capable of sex. If you’re capable of sex, you’re capable of being sexy, of being seen sexually by yourself and others.

If you’re this far and have a camera phone, you’re a few short clicks away from me and a bunch of other deviants masturbating to you.

Relish that power.

And with it, find sex and love on your own damn terms.

-Santi

Santi fell in love for the first time as a child in Georgia and for the second time as a young man in Brooklyn. Today, he lives in Miami where he’s convinced that derechistas are ready to run him out of town. Santi continues his love of photography, both in the area of auto-erotic portraiture and otherwise, on Twitter and Instagram at @uardito.

[secretsantasides]

Gift #14: Colorblind

Gift for @forestwulf​

Prompt: Intrulogical Soulmate AU.

        Logan massaged his temples as the nightclub music pounded in his ears, “I don’t know why you insist on coming here.”

        “It’s twinks drink free night,” Patton said, sipping his appletini.

        “You stopped being a twink ten years ago,” Logan muttered.

        Patton sighed, “I’m going to ignore that because you’re my brother and I love you. Speaking of love-”

        “Don’t,” Logan said. “Not this again.”

        “Listen to me,” Patton said. “I’m worried about you, Logan. I know you’re a little robot and you don’t need romance in your life or any friends but-”

        “I have friends,” Logan said.

        “But,” Patton said. “You’re thirty years old and it’s starting to make mom sad on the holidays. When I met Ethan, it wasn’t sitting around at home and moping. I mean how long has it been since you were touched by another human being?”

        “Soulmates,” Logan sighed. “Don’t start, Pat. I’ll gouge my eye out with this tiny umbrella.”

         Patton rolled his eyes, “Logan it’s not just nonsense; it’s science! Just because you think you’re some kind of lone wolf doesn’t mean you don’t have a soulmate. Your eyes wouldn’t be grey if you weren’t still waiting for your person. So you can deny it all you want. It won’t change the fact that they’re waiting.”

         “I don’t have time for a soulmate, Pat. You and Ethan just work better; you have time to be in love and he’s patient enough to deal with… you.”

         Patton faked an offended gasp, “Just for that I’m not getting you a free drink next round! But you’re right, Ethan is perfect. However-”

         “There is no however.”

         ”However,” Patton continued. “It doesn’t mean that there isn’t someone out there who’s just as patient with your bullshit as Ethan is with mine. Now look you made me swear. I hope you’re happy.”

         “I think the three appletinis made you swear,” Logan said. “Don’t you have work tomorrow?”

         “Actually I’m going out of town in two days with the girls so they gave me time off.”

         “Out of town? That’s this week?” Logan asked.

         Patton finished his drink, “I love how much you listen when I talk. The pandas are being moved to the zoo in Atlanta so their enclosure can be remodeled and we’re hoping to get some breeding done while we’re out there. That’s why I told you that you have to take mom to the optometrist on Monday. If you forget that, Logan-”

         “Right right,” Logan said. “No I’ll remember it’s… it’s in my phone.” He looked at his empty glass of whiskey but pushed it aside, deciding he’d better stay sober, “So what’s Ethan thinking about this longterm separation?”

         Patton snorted, “One of his retics laid a ton of eggs and she bit his face when he was pulling the clutch. Now he’s walking around like Crocodile Dundee. Plus the whole clutch is viable so we’re looking at a lot of new snakes to add to the national program. He’s in talks with a zoo in Taiwan too about some bloodline trades. It’s really annoying sometimes. He gets dozens of babies a season and I’m lucky if I’ll see more than two or three in my career.”

         “Well you chose the pandas,” Logan said.

         “I’ll have you know the pandas chose me,” Patton said. “You want another drink?”

         “Nah, I’ll drive you home,” Logan said. “Go flirt with the bartender and see if he’ll pretend to think you’re young some more.”

         Patton laughed as he slid out of his seat, walking over to the bar. On the dancefloor Logan saw a small group of students, a few of which he recognized—one in particular a large pain in his ass. Remus Prince, Quarterback of the university football team and well-known idiot. Logan wished Remus was the typical jock idiot, uncaring and arrogant, one he could easily fail without a second thought, but Remus was bound and determined to make up for his own shortcomings with hard work and extra credit. It meant that half of Logan’s office hours were spent patiently explaining things to Remus again and again, and accepting an outlandish amount of extra credit work.

         And—even more annoyingly—through it all Remus was cheerful, friendly and actually interested in what Logan had to say. Worse still, Remus was a senior, only four years younger than Logan who was the baby of the science department and didn’t he just hate that little nickname? Remus was like a peer, but worse, a jock, the kind of person that would have made Logan’s life miserable if they’d ever walked the same halls together as students. The revelation that Remus was gay was… interesting? No, not interesting. He’s a student and you don’t care. Logan rubbed his eyes and sighed, jumping when Patton returned with two appletinis. He sat down and stared at his brother matter-of-factly, “Guess how much these cost me?”

         Logan raised an eyebrow and couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at his lips, “How are we related?”

          Patton was a lot heavier than he looked when he needed to be carried, and Logan struggled up the stairs to the door of the apartment, knocking on the door. It was a cute place, all brick and right on the street, divided in half horizontally to make a duplex, but it was roomy and it was nice for two people on zookeeper salary; it was inexpensive—for Florida. Ethan opened the door and Logan gasped, “Ethan, your face!”

         Ethan did smile, and there was more than a little pride in it, “Don’t worry. She hit above and below my eye but the doc said to keep a full dressing on it at night so I don’t rub anything off. He cool?”

         “Vodka drunk,” Logan said, hauling Patton inside and laying him on the couch. “Not too bad but I told him I’d stay sober and I think he needed to drink off some stress.”

         “The move, yeah,” Ethan said, following Logan back to the door. “And my face. He’s not really loving how many times I take the bandage off to show people but it’s my first big tag! You wanna see the pictures from the ER?”

         “Gosh I’d love to but I have class in the morning so-”

         “Ethan!” Patton called from the livingroom, “Come sex me up, Mr. Snake Whisperer!”

         “Good luck with that,” Logan said. “Tell him to call me when he’s less obnoxious.”

         “Will do,” Ethan said. “Bye Logan.”

         Logan snorted when Patton called again and started down the stairs, “Good luck!”

                   Logan looked at himself in the mirror after taking out his contacts and smiled at his grey eyes; grey was distinguished, and he didn’t mind having a constant reminder—for himself and others—that he was beyond all of this soulmate nonsense. He was a lone wolf, just like Patton said, and his true love was forensic anthropology—or biology, as he was currently teaching. His application was top in line for the anthropology department, however, and he had consulted a time or two on actual cases. So, despite Patton’s—and his mother’s—insistence that his life was somehow incomplete, Logan couldn’t be happier. He turned off the bathroom light and crawled into bed, thinking back over his tasks for the day, all of which he’d completed before he ever set foot inside the gay bar with his brother. It was the same way he lulled himself to sleep every night, assured of all of his accomplishments, large and small, and how every day was a blank slate.

         Sleep came quick for him, thanks to the single glass of whiskey and the exhaustion of dealing with his drunk brother—and his sober brother-in-law. His dreams were blurry and immemorable until suddenly his vision was filled with green. There were calloused hands on his skin, warm lips on his cheek and breath in his ear, and he was held against a solid body with a grip that was surprisingly strong. He closed his eyes and still all he could see was green.

         Logan gasped and sat up, checking the clock and scowling; it was still the middle of the night and he was baffled by the strange dream and irredeemably hard. He sighed heavily and climbed out of bed, heading back into the bathroom and turning the shower to cold, stripping off his pajamas. Who the hell did he know that was associated with green, anyway? He didn’t even like the color green, his favorite color was indigo, far from the blinding lime he’d been accosted with in his dream. Any thoughts of the dream went screaming from his mind when he stepped into the water; his chest tightened and he exhaled involuntarily, “F-fuck!”

He tightened his hands into fists and endured the water, somehow preferring cold-induced heart palpitations to ward off an unwanted erection than perhaps the more obvious—and less miserable—solution. It was easier to be stubborn and miserable than to admit—and revel in—the fact that something had gotten him going, and that it had to be the dream. Whiskey wasn’t exactly known for facilitating physical arousal, and he’d barely had enough to taste in the first place.

                           “Morning!” Remus announced as he knocked on the open office door.

         “Good morning,” Logan said, “Come in, Mr. Prince.” He cleared away the end of his desk where Remus usually worked and stacked up the papers elsewhere. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

         Remus laughed, his cheeks a bit pink; Logan wondered if he was getting a cold—and how much that would panic the other professors about the state of the football team. He took a sip of his coffee as he sat down. Remus scratched the back of his neck, “Well I have the three essays to turn in, and I did the makeup dissection test with Professor Picane’s Zoological Anatomy class… the uh… feral pig?”

         “Fetal pig,” Logan said, putting his coffee cup aside. “He sent your scores up to me. Good work. You got everything right except for the microscope work. We’re still struggling with cellular identification. I spoke with Emile and he said you actually seemed to have issues where things were similarly colored, so I took the liberty of emailing you some color-blind tests. I’m also inviting you to come in during my freshman course tomorrow. I use different dyes in my slides and I think you’ll benefit from it.”

         “Great!” Remus said. “You really go above and beyond to help me, Professor Heart. I um… well, thank you so much.”

         Logan crossed his legs, leaning back in his chair, “You know, Remus, I think you’ve got a lot of potential, and I think you’ve been pushed through classes due to your athletic prowess—to your detriment. I really want to help you understand that you’re not lacking in intelligence, you understand. You’ve got the answers, we’ve just had to learn how to get to them, right?”

         “Right,” Remus said, ducking his head shyly. “You’re always right.”

         “Now, with these three essays and with you making up the microscope work tomorrow, there’s no need for anymore extra credit work. You’ve got this, Mr. Prince. All you have to do is attend all of the lectures and you’ll be on track for a strong grade in this class. Do you feel like you need any more help?”

         Remus hesitated, “I  mean… you’ve done so much. I know you’ve basically changed my life, and how I feel about science—school in general! I um… I guess if I need anything I’ll just schedule a day before finals. If you think I can do it, I think I can do it.”

         Logan smiled, “Very good, Remus. You’ve got this.”

         Remus set the three essays down on the empty part of the desk and looked over them, “I can’t believe this is it, you know? I’m going to graduate in less than a month.”

         “Another year on the books,” Logan said. “Wait until you’re my age.”

         “You’re not old,” Remus said. “You’re still in your twenties too. Oh!” He picked up his backpack and dug through it, pulling out a small cardboard box. He set it on the desk. “I know your real interest is anthropology, like the cop kind, and I um… well, my dad works in the big museum uptown. They got a few of these and they gave my dad two of them.”

         Logan took the box and opened it, raising an eyebrow as he took out a human skull, obviously prepared and preserved professionally. “This is a nicely intact specimen. You’re certain this is alright?”

         “Yeah my dad said he’d rather it go to somebody who wants it than just gather dust in our basement or the museum’s basement. Oh they said it had uh… crouton disease?”

         “Crouzon Disease,” Logan said, standing up. “Hyperostosis Frontalis Interna, very interesting. Thank you Remus this is incredibly thoughtful.”

         Remus watched Logan put the skull in a central place on his shelf of books and specimens; it looked good, but Remus wasn’t really paying attention to the skull, especially when Logan turned and gave him a smile, extending his hand. Remus jumped up and shook it eagerly, “Thank you again, professor. You’re my hero. You’re especially my parents’ hero.”

         Logan chuckled, and the touch was mildly electric, probably static, but it made Logan shiver, “You’re the hero, Mr. Prince. Remember that, hard work got you this far, and it’ll take you wherever you want to go.”

         Remus nodded, slowly releasing Logan’s hand and stepping back to grab his backpack. “Well, see you in class tomorrow! Eight, right?”

         “Right,” Logan said. “And don’t forget the possibility of a pop quiz tomorrow in your actual class.”

         “Possibility,” Remus chuckled. “Good one, Professor Heart. See you then.”

         Logan watched him go and sighed, turning to admire the skull, a warmth blooming in his chest he’d never really felt before. It really was a nice skull, he supposed.

          Logan drove home with that feeling intact, almost floating into the elevator and riding it up to his floor. After making it down the hallway, and the obligatory avoidance of his neighbor’s eyes, he stepped into his apartment and locked the door behind him. He felt bone-deep exhausted—probably from the dream-cursed night before—and he went straight to the bathroom to take out his contacts. Once his contacts were safely back in their saline baths, he brushed his teeth, grabbing his glasses off of the vanity and putting them on. He admired his eyes—his green eyes. Logan gasped and squeezed his eyes closed, opening them again, still green. He took off his glasses, and his reflection was blurry, but clearly green eyes stared back at him. The warmth in his chest suddenly became a sharp icicle, and he realized. Green, Remus Prince. “Fuck!” Logan shouted, turning off the light and rushing out to his bedroom. He sat on the bed and pulled his cellphone out of his pocket, dialing his brother.

         The phone rang several times, and went to voicemail; Logan swore again and dialed the home phone, “Come on Pat come on.”

         “Hey Logan! What’s up?”

         “Ethan? Oh, is Pat… oh shit.”

         “Alabama,” Ethan said. “Yeah. You ok?”

         “No, not at all… oh god. Can we talk? Like do you have time?” Logan stood up, pacing around the bed. “I have… an awkward situation.”

         “You? I don’t believe it.”

         Logan sighed and Ethan laughed, “I’d like to be serious with you for a moment.”

         “Of course,” Ethan said. “Go ahead.”

         “When you realized you were Patton’s soulmate, was there a feeling?”

         “Hm,” Ethan said. “Actually, yes. I thought I had heartburn, actually. Just like this warmth in my chest? It sounds a bit stereotypical but yeah. I felt warm. That night when I was washing my face I realized my eyes had changed. You doing a study?”

         “Um… no,” Logan admitted. “My eyes are green.”

         “Oh! Oh my god! Did you tell your mom?”

         “Please, Ethan. I have only told you.”

         “Do you know who it is?” Ethan asked. “Any clue?”

         “One of my students,” Logan said. “The… football player.”

         “Oh yeah I remember Patton mentioning him, the stupid one right?”

         Logan bristled, “He isn’t stupid. He’s…” He sighed, rubbing his temple, “Well, thank you Ethan. You’ve answered my question.”

         “Text Pat,” Ethan said. “He’ll lose his shit.”

         “Goodnight, Ethan,” Logan said.

         Logan hung up and set his phone on the nightstand before undressing, pulling on a pair of pajama pants and climbing into bed. He turned off the lamp and pulled the blanket over his head, willing himself to sink into the earth.

          The following morning’s class was a blur of barely-controlled panic and dread, but luckily Remus barely even spared him a glance, intent on taking and passing his cellular identification exam. Logan pretended to grade papers when Remus came up to his desk, and his heart surged like it had, warming to Remus like a rock in the sun, “See you in class.”

         Logan gave a noncommittal sound, and Remus left the classroom, allowing Logan to finally breathe. Ignoring this wasn’t going to be easy, and Logan was already getting frantic texts from his brother demanding an explanation. Logan briefly wondered how hard it would be to vanish without changing universities. The worst part, without question, was how badly he wanted Remus to touch him, even just a brush of his hand. His body was like a magnet and his hands were shaking even though their closeness had been brief. At least his upcoming class was taking a pop quiz, and they were to clear out as soon as answers were submitted.  

          Logan remained more or less glued to the desk during the hour between classes, grading the microscope work—Remus hadn’t missed a single slide, so Picane’s catch on the colorblindness had been spot on. Logan had felt a stab of jealousy, absurd as it was, that he hadn’t realized it sooner, first, because Remus was his soulmate—his.

         “Mine,” Logan muttered to himself, then his face heated up when he realized what he’d said, and he looked down to realize he’d written it on Remus’ exam answers. Quickly scratching it out he pushed the test aside and lowered his face to the desk. “What a nightmare.”

         “What’s a nightmare, Mr. Heart?”

         Logan looked up to see his first student sliding into her desk, and he forced a chuckle, “The state of the economy in nineteenth century Luxembourg.” He stood up and began writing on the board.

         “Will that be on the final?” another student asked. The classroom had started filling up.

         “Not unless I’ve ever written it on this board,” Logan said. “We start final prep next week, don’t forget.”

         He finished filling out the board as the rest of his students filed in, and once his watch beeped cheerily that class had started, he heard a voice pick up behind him, the same girl from before, “Is that your favorite tie, Mr. Heart? You wear it a lot.”

         “It’s my favorite color,” Logan said without turning around. “As charming as the distraction is, I haven’t forgotten the pop quiz.” He turned around and Remus was staring at him, mouth open in shock. On either side of him, his linebacker buddies were looking at one another, and Logan realized his mistake in revealing his favorite color—because he knew better than anyone what color Remus’ eyes must be now. Wincing, he adjusted his glasses, “Alright, please take out a clean sheet of paper and answer the questions I’ve written on the board. When you’re finished please leave them up here and you may go.”

         Logan sat at his desk and pretended to be working, jumping when the first student turned in their quiz, but calmed and kept his eyes down as the steady stream of quizzes landed on his desk. He was starting to feel safe when most of his students had gone, and he made the mistake of looking up when a loud pair of sneakers stopped at his desk. The room was empty, and Remus Prince was standing at his desk, quiz in his hand. He set it down with the others and shoved his hands in his pockets, “Your eyes are green. I never noticed.”

         Logan paled and stared up at Remus, “I um… it’s recent.”

         Remus nodded, “Me too, indigo, right? It’s a weird blue for eyes. My brother said they look like Liz Taylor whoever that is.”

         Logan let out a nervous little laugh, looking down at the paper he’d been doodling on only to realize he’d been writing the word mine over and over, “Yeah. She had um… dark eyes. So I suppose you’ve met your soulmate then, congratulations, Mr. Prince.”

         Remus looked around and then back at Logan, “You’re going to pretend it isn’t you?”

         Logan was feeling very much like a deer in the headlights, but at the same time heat was playing in his chest. He pushed his chair back and stood up, tensing when Remus reached to grab his wrist, “I’m not-” Logan tried to pull away but Remus shook his head, “I’m not pretending anything I… damn it. Damn it I’m afraid, ok? You’re a student!”

         “Not for long! Like two weeks from now I’m taking the final, and unless I stop showing up entirely, there’s no way I’m failing. I did the math which I know will impress you because I’m such an idiot.”

         “Mr. Prince,” Logan said, then sighed. “Remus… is this even something you want? A relationship dictated by some… some system we don’t even understand? By colors and chance and… what, fate? You want to let the universe stick you with someone… someone like me?”

         Remus laughed and released Logan, covering his face with his hands, “You don’t fucking get it, do you? You really don’t.”

         Logan wrapped his arms around himself, blushing and adjusting his glasses, “Don’t get what?”

         “I have wanted you since before I started in this class!” Remus said. “My brother, the attention whore? He had me come here last semester to pick up a paper for him, remember? If it was just fate shoving us together it would have happened then… but it didn’t. I thought you were hot, so I signed up for your class because I figured I’d cheat my way through and have a hot prof to stare at right?”

         “Hot?”

         “Just let me finish,” Remus said. “When I came in here and sat down at that desk and I listened to you read the syllabus… and all of your weird bone jokes and that thing about the swamp mummy?”

         “Bog bodies, the Tollund Man, yes,” Logan said. “You remember that?”

         “Yeah because you cared, like you actually cared about it. You’re not just here because you couldn’t get a career and you’re not just here to waste time. You really care about what you’re teaching us, and I know you’re trying to switch departments but whatever, you know what I mean… there’s a lot of passion there and it made me give a shit. It took me forty-five minutes to fall in love with your stupid class, and maybe two or three classes to fall in love with you… but still it didn’t happen. Because it didn’t happen until you fell in love with me.”

         Logan was silent as he stared at Remus, his mouth hanging open; he took a sharp breath, shoving his hands in his pockets, “Jesus.”

         “Well? Am I right?” Remus said, tears welling up in his eyes. “It’s the mustache right? My friends told me that’s the reason you didn’t tell me. Because you hate it. I don’t even care. I’ll shave it off, ok? I don’t care if it’s good luck I-”

         Logan crossed the short distance between them and kissed Remus, cutting him off. Remus grabbed Logan’s collar and pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. Logan’s mind spun, and his knees went weak. Remus had no trouble holding him up, and when they finally broke the kiss, Logan smiled sheepishly. “I don’t hate the mustache, as much as I wish I did. I really don’t.”

         Remus buried his face against Logan’s shoulder and laughed, “Great because I really need to keep it if I’m going to get drafted. Three of the NFL scouts commented on it.”

         “Yes I’m sure you’ll bring back the seventies mustache. Your parents will be ecstatic.”

         “Yeah… so um… are we dating?”

         “No,” Logan said, then off Remus’ look he hurried to elaborate. “Not until you pass this class of your own merit. Like you said, it’s no big deal and then, the second your final grade is logged in the university database… we can date.”

         Remus smiled, smoothing down Logan’s shirt as he stepped back, “Right, cool um… hey I should probably go then, right? Got studying to do. Bye teach.”

         “Mr. Prince,” Logan said, sinking back down into his seat once Remus was gone.

         It was going to be a long couple of weeks.

[itskateak]

(Preface: this is a really long post as I typed it as I was watching the movie so this is unedited, pure thoughts as I was watching this movie.)

I just started watching the new Cats movie and I’m already having issues with what’s going on

Why did Munk spider man his way down a wall

What’s wrong with Misto

Why don’t they just crawl on their knees Jesus Christ if they weren’t on their toes it would be better

“Are you mean like a minx” that’s not in pitch

ThatS NOT HOW JUMPING WORKS

The choreography is going good though- I knew it would. I’ve worked with that choreographer before.

WHY IS THIS NOW A POP REMIX

I have so many questions

Music is too fast. Tempos are everywhere.

Singing isn’t too bad. I can understand the words better.

Munk is a little too feminine for my taste at the moment but I like his design.

ROMANTICAL CATS (heart hands) IS THE MOST ON BRAND MISTO THING YET

Macavity speaking and singing his own song is disgusting

WHY DO THEY HAVE HUMAN TOES AND FINGERS

Why is everyone bullying Misto

AND HUMAN NOSES

Munk there’s a rhythm to the Naming of Cats. You can’t go off it whole everyone else is on it.

You guys can’t keep a tempo can you

HIS name. HIS.

Munk that’s a little sexual. NO YOU ARE WITH DEMETER STOP

stop cutting the scene up. Just let them dance.

AH REFERENCE TO ORIGINAL CHOREO. I SAW THAT

Misto is on brand except he’s not Misto yet storytellers

Also I’m liking the idea that Victoria is new to everything and the plot is they’re introducing her to the wild and the whole heaviside layer thing

THATS NOT THE MELODY MUNK STOP

they have human eyebrows too what

Munk that note is too high for you

Is Jenny twerking excuse me

JennY IS SUPPOSED TO BE MOTHERLY STOP THAT

that’s also not the melody

The human mice are going to cause nightmares

Wait is Jenny lusting after Munk

Why does he actually look interested

Munk do you have an English accent or American. Please decide.

Jenny that’s not the right notes

HUMAN ROACHES NO

WHY DO THEH HAVE HUMAN FACES

The skiN UNZIPPED OH NO

no one needed that undershot of cockroach crotches

Mm meow

huh what Tugger what was that

Okay Derulo is not bad at all

I’m missing the Tugoffolees banter though

This Tugger is a little gayer than the original

THE NEUTER JOKE OH MY GOD

Tugger is reminding me of Dr. Frank N Furter from Rocky Horror Picture Show

Why does he have an English accent though

VictoriaaaaAAAAA? (The TOES)

Jenny’s humor is eh. Don’t see the reason of putting that in.

The ending is pure Tugger though

Not a bad rendition

Grizz isn’t as rough as I imagined her looking

Oh her VOICE

HER VOICE HITS HARD

Who is this cat singing about Grizz (the first) her voice was nice

NO. WHY THE SHORTNESS ON “that”

Munk why did you grab that queen’s head

Edward Hyde is that you?

Jenny stop trying to be the comedy relief you’re too awful at it

Bustopher please STOP singing your own song

PLEASE KIDNAP HER IDRIS ELBA

THANK YOU

I wish they spent more time dancing since that’s really the point of the show and the draw to it.

Bustopher wearing heels? I’m for it. Gay legend.

“Thanks Tugger” stop this whole sequence please

Bustopher is supposed to be a very prim and proper cat. What happened to him

Still can’t get over Idris Elba being in this

THATS NOT THE MELODY OF MUNGOJERRIE AND RUMPLETEAZER

What have thEY DONE TO THE MELODY GOOD GOD

AND THE RHYTHM THEY DESTROYED THE SONG

Oh. Hey that’s pretty neat choreo though

“I bought that for her myself” “hey” “what?”

My brain is rebelling because it’s not right at all in anything I remember

Did Misto just pull a whole femur from his hat

STOP THAT. MISTO LOOKS LIKE A CLOSETED TWINK STUCK IN A STRAIGHT RELATIONSHIP

is he wearing eyeliner

GROWLTIGER IS BACK

I don’t actually know his song so this is new to me

Jenny and Bustopher being comedic relief hurts because they’re not funny

Munk “where have you been?!” Is there a love triangle happening. What happened to Demeter

Also his voice in Deuteronomy is actually really nice

“Sits in the suuun” that was beautiful oh god

Deut looks more like how I imagined Grizz would look

IS THAT DAME JUDI DENCH

I bet she regrets ever saying yes after this.

What cat is randomly wearing a crow skull around their neck. Is that a witch’s cat

JUDI DENCH CAN’T YOU ACTUALLY SING? WHY ARE YOU STRUGGLING

Why are you singing Munk’s line

Oh the Jellicle ball is next let’s go Andy show me that awesome choreo

Asparagus are you okay

Tempo doesn’t exist in this movie does it

Neither does rhythm or time keeping

IS THAT MY BOY SKIMBLESHANKS

Twirly boy Munk

Munk really just wants to be topped doesn’t he

WhAT WAS THAT TWITCHING AND THE PANTING

Andy I love you man but the traditional and classic choreo would’ve worked just as fine

Skimble and Munk being gay

what happened to Plato and why is there something going on with Misto

TUGGER YOU HAD A MOMENT YOU COULD HAVE INTERRUPTED

Ah okay I understand why that happened. No mating dance or slumber party

Cats wearing shoes disgusts me more than the toes

POINTE WITHOUT POINTE SHOESSSS GROSS

honestly? Jellicle ball is disappointing. They just cut the ten minutes of amazing dancing down to like four.

I don’t like the heavy breathing. That’s not something that was ever necessary.

Okay, the end worked okay with the big synchronized dances.

I’m ready for this Memory rendition. Already getting chills.

Those are very human hands

Oh keep with the rhythm I beg of you

Ooh altered verse

Wait that’s jennifer Hudson???

Oh we just removed a whole verse, bridge, and chorus didn’t we.

Sweet moment? See I like Vic reaching for Grizz

Vic gets a song??? Ooh intrigued

I like her voice

I’m going to cry this song is sad and I’m glad she gets a story

Though it’s kind of “you think your life is hard? Mine’s worse” feeling after Memory

Awww I’m gonna cry what a sweetheart what a lovely dear protect her

Ugh meaning of happiness. I hate this song no matter who sings it.

Wait what happened to Rumpus Cat song :( the battle of the pekes and the pollicles

What do you mean you’re about to make the choice

We still have Gus’s song, Misto’s song, and Skimble’s song.

They got Ian McKellen to do this?? How much was he paid

“Cross paws” no stop

Why is Gus singing his own song please don’t

Munk’s face bugs me for some reason

His song always makes me cry for some reason but this is kind of goofy and cute and I love it

Misto in the background is just strange for me

Is he forgetting the words sometimes and mumbling to fill in because goodness

Misto’s so eager to please what a bottom

“Macavityyy” I hate it

Munk starting Skimble’s song has the same energy as Tugger doing Misto’s songs

I’m glad they’ve kept this song the same as it was

Skimble is SO gay oh my god what a classic twink

Oooh I like this addition of the train getting started via tap

I’m actually really liking this rendition and the tap dancing on the the rails

Though the tap continuing when no one is tapping or the rhythm being wrong is uh not good

Such an iconic song and I love the changes in scene

Oh skimble that note was not good

WAIT OKAY THAT WAS MACAVITY’S DOING WITH THE LEVITATION

Oh hi Taylor Swift

Use more breath. Stop doing the pop voice thing. Stop it.

Is Bombi a drug dealer

MISTO BEING TWEAKED ON DRUGS IS THE FUNNIEST GODDAMN THING IVE EVER SEEN IN THIS LIFE

I can say though that what they’ve done to the song is exactly the vibes it needed. Sultry and pushing the boundaries.

Sad there’s not a Demeter.

SORRY MUNK WHAT WAS THAT

I actually rewinded to see what happened there with the martini glass

OKAY MAN NEEDS TO BE TOPPED OH MY GOD

“Green house glass is broken” was changed and that makes me sad

This was a good song for Taylor to show off her vocal prowess but she just didn’t

Why is Macavity naked

Why is he singing his own damn song

PUT YOUR CLOTHES BACK ON

Munk you’re still tweaking out a little

Oh here’s the sleeping orgy

What’s with this drama now with the choice thing

We don’t have Munk’s fight with Macavity. Robbed

VICTORIA YOU ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE THE ONE TO GET MISTO OUT THERE. IT HAS TO BE TUGGER

If there are no 23 spins, I’ll throw my phone

Munk that’s gay and I’m here for it. Encourage your twink Misto

“Please don’t make me do this” has phantom vibes

Munk that was a lusty look

Where’s the “ooh ahs”

This is weird without Tugger singing it and being an ego for Misto

Tugger come on. Please save this number.

Victoria I swear to god I will beat you

Why do they have one person on the melody in this. And Derulo going through the stratosphere

WHERE IS THE DANCING >:(

That trombone is playing absolutely nothing in the music at all

DON’T YOU DARE KISS HER

oh here’s the fight music

WHY DID WE UNZIP SKIN AGAIN

oh they used the fight music for the escaping of cats

How much longer is there

Oh there’s the daylight reprise thing

I want to die

To the sun, Vic. To the sun.

Munk, Tugger, be respectful. That’s your mother.

Wait that doesn’t work in this universe because Deut is female.

Oh they gave the Asian cat patterns that resemble tiger stripes hmmmm

Why couldn’t they have just filmed an actual stage version and turned that out

Oh that “smile at the old days” was god awful

How much longer oh god

I’m tired man. I wasted 6 bucks on this

Victoria just stealing Jemima’s parts

“Like a flowER as the dawn is breaking”

Okay here it is

OH COME THROUGH QUEEN. WHOLE FILM IS WORTH THIS CLIMAX

Okay so there are some cats wearing clothes and others not. What are the rules for this universe. Are they naked or are they not.

I have not shed a single tear. Usually I have by now from this show. Not a single tear.

Deut X Grizz is still my favorite ship

Is that the intro to Til I Hear You Sing that I hear. Those F to Gm chords Lloyd Webber loves.

Judi Dench stop trying to sing for the love of god.

Ah yes show off that beautiful ballet dancer that plays Vic

Aww Munk bowing to Grizz

Oh so it’s a chandelier this time and not a tire

Where’d Macavity and Bombi go

Oh there he is. What a child. Hate that.

BUSTOPHER CONFIRMED A GAY ICON

Deut being a proud mother to Munk is cute with the hands on the shoulder

Why are we reprising the first song

Also Air balloon.

WHY ARE YOU STARING AT ME JUDI DENCH

why are they all staring so intently at her too wait

Munk looks like someone is touching him inappropriately this whole scene.

Munk and Misto looking at each other

MUNK STOPPPP JESUS CHRIST DO YOU NEED TO BE REMOVED FROM THE SITUATION

The choreography doesn’t even match the beat of the song. Huh???

Misto you’re gay stop

Munk and Misto looking at each other and the shy glances away

So Grizz gets hot air balloned to death is that what I’m seeing

Oh it’s over okay

I want to cry.

It’s not as bad as I heard. Once you got used to the way things looked and just let things happen and say it might as well happen, it became a bit more enjoyable.

It’s still god awful though and let’s pray the furries never get ahold of it.

[thefateofdesire]

Coachella - Day 2 - Continued

“Diana,” I said, taking a step back. “What… what are you doing here?”

I stared at her across the parking lot, inching closer to Carlos, afraid she might be there to potentially harm him.

“I,” Diana said, removing her cigarette from her lips, “am here to check up on you.” She flicked the butt of her cigarette on the ground, stomping it out with one of her heels as she strutted towards me.

“What for?” I said, softly clenching and relaxing my right fist.

“That’s a good one,” Diana said, chuckling to herself. “I mean, I am just the one witch that helped you get off with this probation period instead of having to completely revoke your magic. I’m still waiting for that thank you basket you promised, by the way.”

Diana wasn’t wrong. From the very beginning, she was on my side; even when I wasn’t aware of what was going on. When I was being whisked away in my dreams to the council for my pre-trial punishments and transformations, Diana was secretly compiling reasons and justifications to not sentence me to become a mortal. At the end of it all, I would’ve been trapped in the 18-year-old twink body I was eventually transformed into, and stripped off my magic; forced my live the rest of my life completely powerless.

“My bad,” I said, still tense. “My brain isn’t exactly the way it used to be. I swear, nowadays I find myself more drawn to lusting after my own reflection than remembering the promises I made to people.”

“That I can believe,” Diana said. “In any case, I see you’ve decided to go through with the arrangement: prove to the council that your methods of transforming mortals is for the better of this world and ours.”

“I have,” I said. “I’ve already directly improved four lives, and who’s to say how many more considering the first three was a gang of bullies.”

“I agree,” Diana said, pulling another cig from her purse. “Nevertheless, since I stuck my neck out for you, I’ve been assigned to monitor you for the remainder of your probation to make sure you don’t fall out of line and start transforming anyone, mortal or magical, for your own personal agenda.”

I squinted my eyes. Typical of the council – they never liked being challenged. And now after processing what Diana just told me, I should’ve expected this to happen. I vaguely remembered one of the warlocks scoffing that a “kid will do what a kid wants to do” during my trial and how “children need surveillance.” Pfft. It’s not my fault I was biologically 28 years old and the old fart was pushing five centuries.

“I don’t need a babysitter, Diana,” I said, crossing my arms. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but I think I can handle this on my own.”

“Raul,” Diana said, exhaling smoke. “It’s not up to me. It’s up to them. I have to give at least weekly reports from now on, sometimes more when there’s repeated transformations occurring. And since you’ve already done, what, four, you said? I think I’m going to need to pop in a couple more times this weekend.”

Sometimes I wondered if Chad was a low-key clairvoyant; I swear he could feel when something bad was coming from a mile away.

If I couldn’t shake Diana off my back, I couldn’t shake the council off it either. I would have to be extra cautious from here on out. Adam’s transformation still would be considered safe under the arrangement, as would the bullies, but I would be liar if I wasn’t already thinking about tweaking Chad a little when I got back home. Guess that was out of the picture for the time being.

“Fair enough,” I said, not wanting to cause any more friction. “You do what you gotta do. But, next time, do you think you could give ya boy a little bit of a heads up?”

“That,” Diana said, the side of her mouth curling up, “is something I cannot promise.”

Well, it was worth a try.

“Oh, and Raul,” Diana said. “One more thing before I go.”

I raised my eyebrows, feigning interest.

“The council wanted me to lay out what would happen if you fail to provide enough justification throughout this process. If you fail to prove your transformations provide significant improvements to both the mortal and magical worlds…”

“I’ll have my powers stripped away,” I said.

“No,” Diana said, stamping out the rest of her cigarette, “I’m afraid I couldn’t manage to get them to agree on that for your potential sentencing.”

I furrowed my eyebrows and bit the side of my lip. Worse than becoming a mortal? What could be worse than that?

“If you fail, Raul,” Diana said. “You’ll be required to restart your magical studies, with a different specialization, as a first year student, of course, and be given an entirely different identity. Raul Flores will be no more.”

“What?” I said, my voice rising. “But in order to learn a new specialization I would have to be-“

“An adolescent, yes” Diana said, interrupting me. “You’ll be regressed back into young teenagerhood, and enrolled at the institution in the magic world, considering your first time ‘round learning in the mortal world would be deemed a failure. You won’t have your mind erased – you’ll be forced to remember your past life, your past powers, yet unable to ever cast any shape shifting spells ever again, and you’ll start completely over.”

“But,” I said, my eyes widening. “Chad…”

“Yes, I’m afraid he would continue to live out the remainder of his mortal life, not remembering you at all. Everyone here in the mortal world would live out the rest of their lives without you, actually.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

This couldn’t be happening to me. How could I be so stupid? I should’ve just listened to Chad, months ago, and not used my powers until my probation was up. Now… now I was putting him and myself at risk… and this time, I could really lose everything.

“Well,” Diana said, turning around. “I guess I’ll leave you and your new friend to enjoy the rest of the festival. Handsome man, by the way. Surprised temptations to transform him haven’t occurred in your mind. And I know they haven’t; I am a mind reader, you know.”

I stood there, staring out past Diana, out into the crowds of frozen people dressed in their festival gear. Large hats, bandanas, flower crowns, shades, neon-matching fits.

Everyone could forget me. Everyone… but me.

“Raul.”

I turned to look at Diana, tears beginning to well in my eyes.

“I know you’re a good person,” Diana said, continuing. “I have faith in you. I want you to succeed, even if it doesn’t seem like it. I wouldn’t have gone out of my way to prove you didn’t do anything wrong last year if I didn’t think you had something… Don’t let me down.”

“Hey, you okay, buddy?”

I blinked, and Diana was gone. The world was back in motion, and for a moment, I thought maybe I imagined it all.

“Huh?” I said, wiping the stray tear off my cheek. “Yeah, Carlos, I’m good. I just- I don’t know…”

“You sure?” Carlos said, placing his hand on my shoulder. “If you’re not feeling good, we could head back to the room for a bit?”

“No, no,” I said, shaking my head laughing. “I’m fine. Really. I just thought of something randomly and it got me sad. You pour a heavy mimosa; you already got me in the crying stage of being tipsy.”

Carlos laughed as he squeezed my shoulder, taking the bait and allowing us to change the subject. We walked on the shuttle and sat about halfway down in order to not be those assholes who sit in the front of the bus when there’s plenty of space in the back, but also not in the very back so it wouldn’t take us too long to get off once we arrived at the festival.

As more festivalgoers boarded the shuttle, Carlos rambled on about how awesome Adam was and how he was glad they at least exchanged numbers since they wanted to see one of the DJ’s playing later that night. I nodded and smiled the more he talked, but found myself completely distracted by my encounter with Diana.

I could lose Chad.

That’s all that kept playing in my head. Fuck turning into a teen again, although relieving adolescence sounded like a nightmare in itself, but losing Chad… I didn’t know if I could deal with that.

Worst of all, there was no way to back out anymore. The ball was set in motion. I pushed it, and now it was tumbling down the mountain and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I would get crushed, and still have to suffer my fate.

I had to get this point across. I was going to prove to the council that I was really helping both our worlds and making them a better place. I knew I was.

Right?

--

The first half of our time at the festival was a blur for me.

Carlos and I had been running back and forth between stages and the bars. We even got ourselves a smoothie at some point.

But I couldn’t focus. Diana really threw a goddamn wrench in my mind. She was all I could think about; her, and the council, and Chad, and my fucked up life.

I was finishing up the last sip of my margarita when Carlos mentioned he brought molly in the festival grounds with him.

I hadn’t done any kind of drugs in years, since I was still in college, but at the moment, being high and wasted seemed better than being lost in my thoughts.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to you know,” Carlos said, popping the pill in his mouth and washing it down with his own marg.

“Yeah,” I said, nodding. “But I want to.” I stuck my hand out, waiting for Carlos to drop the E in my palm.

“Ayeee, that’s my little dude!” Carlos plopped the pill in my hand before smacking my ass lightly.

We were already pretty tipsy, so maybe taking the pill wasn’t the best idea, but, if anything, I could try to detox the poison from our bodies if we started getting too faded.

Placing the pill on my tongue, I chugged the rest of my drink. Tossing the plastic cup in the nearby recycling bin, I smacked Carlos’ ass to let him know I was ready to head out of the beer garden.

“Where to next?” I said, dusting off the bits of dust that had accumulated on my shorts over the last few hours.

“Well, I texted Adam,” Carlos said. “He said he can meet us at the Outdoor Stage an hour before the DJ goes on. So… we still have a good… 45 minutes before that. Perfect timing too; the pill should be in full swing by the time the DJ’s on.”

“Nice,” I said, crackling my knuckles.

I pulled my phone from my front pocket, remembering I needed to text Chad that I had been at the festival. I thought about also informing him about the council, but decided it was best to save that until tomorrow, the earliest - perhaps even when I got back home. I needed to have a good time and forget about all that drama.

Hitting SEND on my messaging app, I turned back to Carlos, who had started grooving as we passed by the restrooms, which was convenient considering we probably wouldn’t have time to go again once we were at the Outdoor Stage.

At least I had Carlos with me right now to distract me. He was a good time, and his friendship made things feel a little less hectic.

“You gotta piss?” I said, pointing to the line forming outside.

“Mmmm,” Carlos said, his dancing slowing down. “Yeah, we probably should.”

“Good call,” I said, walking to the back of the line.

“Watch it!” a man yelled, as he shoved his shoulder past mine.

“YOU watch it!” Carlos said, yelling after the man. “What a prick!”

“It’s fine, Carlos,” I said, rubbing my shoulder. “Just an asshole.”

I stared at the man who rammed into me as he walked only 15 steps behind me at the water refill station. He was a pretty average guy, probably in his early to mid 30s. Enough muscle mixed with a little fat, on the taller side. He was dressed like a tool, though. A backwards cap with a basketball jersey about 2 sizes too big, and cargo shorts that didn’t deserve to see the light of day.

“Watch it!” the man yelled, pushing past a younger guy about to fill up his water bottle.

I clenched my teeth.

“Dude, I was here first,” the younger guy said, pushing his way back into his spot at the water fountain.

“Fuck off, bitch,” the man said, pushing the other guy to the ground and putting his mouth directly underneath the faucet.

I glared at the older man as patrons in the area helped the younger man back to his feet and fetched his water bottle.

“What the fuck,” Carlos said, muttering under his breath.

Rubbing my fingers together and muttering under my breath, I turned around to face Carlos, moving forward in the bathroom line as people came and went.

“Carlos,” I said, trying to lighten the mood. “Who do you want to see after this?”

“I don’t know,” Carlos said, putting his hands on his hips. “All that commotion reminded me we should probably get water before we meet up with Adam though. And another drink. Or two.”

“Wh-what the fuck?” a voice said behind us.

A group of people turned to look at the older man from before, his chin and chest dripping with water. He had his arms completely extended out in front of him. He was staring at his hands, turning and twisting them, with his eyes bulging out of his head.

“Someone please help me,” the man said, choking on his words.

A small crowd soon began to form around the water refill station as he continued to panic. They whispered amongst themselves, confused about the commotion.

I smiled as Carlos and I joined in on the staring. Since that asshole cleared enjoyed drawing the attention of others, I figured he’d want an audience as he experienced his transformation, which was triggered by the amount of water he chugged greedily from the fountain.

What the man wasn’t aware of, however, was he and I were the only people noticing the changes to his body. To the crowd of festivalgoers around him, he just looked like someone experiencing a bad trip.

The man’s mouth dropped as the hairs on his arms began to recede, leaving them completely hairless. The rest of his body hair quickly followed suit before his clothes began to loosen up around him. He shrank closer and closer to the ground as his muscles softened, not with fat, but from the loss of tone. The trimmed goatee on his face faded into nothingness as his cheeks rounded a bit, looking more and more like the fresh-faced recent high school graduate he was steadily becoming.

“Someone please help!” the now 19-year-old boy repeated, his voice cracking slightly.

“Someone go get the medic,” a woman said, pointing to the medical tent a few yards away.

The teen grasped at his shorts, threatening to fall off his thinning hips. His jersey billowed like a tarp on his torso. His breathing increased as freckles lined his skin and metal brackets appeared on his crooked teeth. Where there once was a wannabee thuggish man now stood a wannabee punkish college-drop out.

“What seems to be the problem here?” the medic said, pushing his way into the crowd. “Everyone back up, give the kid some space.”

The crowd began to disperse, deciding it had enough watching punk of a teenager freak out.

“You gotta help me man,” the teen said, tightening the belt on his shorts. “I’m shrinking man, I don’t know what’s going on.”

“What’s your name kid?” the medic asked, putting his hand on the teen’s back.

“My name is Scott and I’m not a kid!” the former man said, with a slight lisp as his tongue tripped over the metal in his mouth. “I’m 34 years old and something is seriously wrong!”

“Are you here with anyone else?” the medic said, ignoring Scott’s pleas.

“Yes, my girlfriend Stacy and my best friend Hank, wait there they are! Stacy!”

Stacy, accompanied by Hank, turned to look at Scott, confusion written across her face.

“How do you know my name?” she asked, wrapping his arm around Hank’s.

“Stacy!” Scott said, tears forming in his eyes. “It’s me! Scott! I know I look like a kid right now, but it’s me. I don’t know what’s going on but-“

“Let’s get out of here, babe,” Hank said, pulling Stacy away.

As the couple walked away from the water fill station and towards the beer garden, Scott stared in disbelief before falling to his knees and losing consciousness.

“Fuck,” the medic said, pulling out a walkie-talkie. “I need a stretcher out by water 3; kid just passed out from an apparent trip.”

“Jesus,” Carlos said, shaking his head.

“That can’t happen to us, right?” I asked, trying to play up the drug-trip narrative. I snapped my fingers, ensuring Scott would wake up thinking the entire ordeal truly was a bad trip.

“No, no way,” Carlos said, turning back around. “My shit is clean. Not laced with whatever the fuck that prick had. I’ve never seen anything like that. He was so young too.”

“Yeah,” I said, as we finally entered the restroom. “Kids nowadays…”

--

About an hour later, Carlos and I were on cloud 9. After we finished using the restroom and refilled our water bottles, we made our way to the beer garden and chugged a couple beers. Now, we were resting at the Outdoor stage, waiting for Adam and his girlfriend. My head was spinning from the alcohol and the E coursing through my veins. I opted to sit down against a fence as Carlos tried finding our newly acquainted friends.

I pulled out my phone to check if Chad had responded to my texts. Much to my dismay, I had no service.

“Raul!” Adam said, suddenly. “I want you to meet my girlfriend, Cristal. I was telling her all about you guys and how you took me out of the funk I was in this morning.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Raul,” Cristal said, extending her hand. “Thanks for helping with Adam; he’s so hard on himself. He beats himself up whenever he tries new things.”

I stood up, the biggest smile plastered on my face, partially from the compliment, but mostly from how insanely fucked up I was.

“Aw, it was no problem,” I said, shaking Cristal’s hand. “He’s a really cool guy – he made Carlos and I enjoy our walk to the shuttle a bit more. It’s nice to meet you!

Cristal smiled before moving back to Adam, resting her head against his chest. Carlos walked over to me before offering his hand so we could head into the crowd.

As we walked closer to the Outdoor Stage, the DJ began his set.

“Fuck I’m so pumped!” Carlos said, as we all weaved our way through the sea of people.

“Me too,” I said, giggling. I squeezed Carlos’ hand, enjoying the feeling of his fingers intertwined with mine. I moved my thumb over the back of his index finger repeatedly.

“Damn, you’re on a good one huh?” Carlos said, smiling down at me.

“Fuck. Yeah,” I said, laughing.

When we finally found a suitable spot, the four of us began dancing. I bumped my head to the beat, swayed my hips to the lasers, and pulsed my muscles to the bass flowing through my body.

My head twirled along to the music, my body moving in ways I had forgotten I could dance. I pressed myself repeatedly against Carlos as he danced with me, his arms holding me close at times.

I closed my eyes, picturing all the colors and shapes of the light show in front of me. I imagined my body changing back to it used to be, knowing I was banned from changing it until my probation was over. But with the way I was rolling, my imagination began to feel real.

I saw my thick chest and tight abs, and my strong biceps and shoulders that would make even Carlos jealous. I felt my thick rod and bulge between my legs, my powerful thighs grooving to the music. I shook my muscular ass, feeling the vibrations course up through my broad back.  

I imagined Carlos and I dancing there, feeling like we were floating above the ground.

I thought of Chad… wondering how he would feel if he knew I was here, cross-faded out of my mind, getting incredibly close with another man.

But I knew Carlos was just a friend. That’s all he ever would be. But in that moment, I also needed to have intimacy, because deep down, I was terrified. Terrified that I would fail. Terrified that I would lose. Terrified that I could wreck my life and have nothing left to show for it.

“Raul.”

I opened my eyes, my train of thought broken. I looked down at my body; slightly disappointed to see I was still the 21-year-old I had become.

I turned to look at Carlos, when my jaw dropped.

“Carlos?” I said, my voice wavering.

Carlos smiled at me, weaving his fingers around mine before squeezing them. He continued to dance and I stared at his body, not believing my eyes. I knew it was him; still 25 years old, but he was completely different. His muscles were practically gone; he stood a mere inch, if anything above me, and the light stubble he kept on his face had completely vanished.

“I’m having such a great time with you, Raul,” Carlos said, his voice a few octaves higher. “Please promise me we’ll hang out so much more when we get back to LA.”

I opened my mouth to say something, but I couldn’t. A tear fell down my face, when Carlos quickly wiped it away.

“Don’t cry, Raul,” Carlos said, his brows furrowing.

I closed my eyes, more tears falling down my cheeks. Did I do this? On accident? Diana? Someone else? I didn’t understand.

“Raul,” Carlos said, squeezing my hand tightly.

I took in a deep breath before I opened my eyes. I gasped when my eyes met Carlos’. He was fine. He wasn’t transformed at all. He was still the tall, muscular man I had been hanging out with the past couple days.

“Are you okay? Do you need water?”

I laughed, breathing a sigh of relief.

“Yeah, that would be great,” I said, squeezing Carlos’ hand. I think I’m just rolling a bit too hard.”

“I got you, man,” Carlos said, taking out the water bottle from his backpack. “I’ll always have you.”

I smiled, wondering how I had gotten so lucky to have two beautiful men in my life. I took the water bottle and pressed it against my lips. As I drank, I felt my anxiety dissipate and my tension balance out. I took deep breaths, in and out, and handed the bottle back to Carlos.

“Thank you,” I said, smiling. “I’ll always have you too. I promise.”

Carlos smiled back, before slowly pulling my back against his chest.

“We can dance relaxed like this until you feel better,” he said, whispering in my ear.

I nodded my head and swayed along to the rhythm. I went back to bumping my head to the music, and looked over to Adam and Cristal, who were too busy making out with each other to notice anything at all. I felt a vibration in my pocket and grinned.

Chad.

I closed my eyes, and sighed. I was going to do whatever it took to win over the council. I was going to win, no matter what.

[sandalwoodhusbands]

for him.

Lucas posts music covers on youtube and there’s a guy who keeps sending him the most original photos he’s ever seen.

(also on ao3) // previous

                                                          I

A year and a half later

Way Down We Go // Kaleo (Cover) – by turnupthelucas

lucasxlallemant21:

Oh my god so fucking goooood! Your voice keeps getting better and better <3

  + turnupthelucas: thank you!

elio0oliverr:

that wink at the end??? ended the world’s problems

lallemantstan:

my wig is on the floor, my skin is clean and my ears cry with glee

harrysdimple:

Mr. Lucas Lallemant really out there changing the music industry uh

ghostlypitch:

When are we going to get original content?

  + turnupthelucas: soon ;)

     + lustiel: OHMYF GOD CHRISTIE ALSFNEGEJK

     + malectrash: JE SUIS DEAD

     (View other 5097 responses)      

slipperysnow:

we need more videos with lucas playing the guitar. so hot

Lucas locks his phone, smiling to himself.

It all started as a joke, as most things do. In the beginning, it had just been him and Yann, a viral shitty 15second recording and a guitar.

Yann had been messing around with some strumming patterns on Lucas’ bed, playing some famous tunes at random.

Lucas had been unaware of the phone against the headboard filming him spin around the room with his desk chair, so when he heard the first notes of the acoustic version of Break up with your girlfriend, I’m bored, he didn’t hesitate to belt out the lyrics like there was no tomorrow.

Yann had posted it on his Instagram story without Lucas knowing.

When Lucas logged on his own Instagram account a couple hours later, he felt very confused at the rising number of followers and odd requests to ‘post more videos’ he got, to say the least.

He hadn’t really thought about his voice before that day, but he had to admit the clip sounded pretty fucking good. So he said to himself, why not? - worst case scenario, the video is a complete flop and his friends mock him for a week.

Needless to say, it was the furthest thing from a flop. In the span of a month his first ‘official’ video hit 700k views on YouTube, and so many people begged for more covers in the comment section that he filmed another one. And then another one. And then, well - then he never really stopped.

Which brings him to this day. With over 300k followers on Instagram and more than a couple of millions views on YouTube, he is one of the most popular artists in France at the moment.

He has viewers all over the globe, people send him letters (and the occasional gift) almost daily, and he's sometimes recognized when he goes out for drinks with the gang.

He’s living his best life, basically.

“Lucas” Yann groans from the sit next to him. “Can you please concentrate on the screen?”

Lucas lifts his head up and looks at the tv screen just in time to witness a geared up man appear out of nowhere, shooting his character in the head.

“Oops.”

The game’s menu glares at him in colors of red and black as Yann chucks the controller at his stomach half heartedly.

Lucas grins at him sheepishly, scratching his head.

“C’mon, restart the game. No distractions this time, I promise.”

His best friend raises an eyebrow.

“If I catch you looking at your phone even once,” Lucas raises his hands in mock surrender. “I swear I will choke you with my own hands. And not in the kinky way.”

Lucas snorts, putting his phone down on the table. He readjusts himself on the sofa, back pressed against the cushions, and sits with his feet tucked under his legs.

“Okay, I’m ready.” He clasps his hands together. “Press play.”

The sound of Yann pressing the controller’s button and Lucas’ phone going off intertwine in time.

“Really?” Yann complains as he pauses the game.

Lucas shrugs apologetically, bending forwards to check his phone.

He turned every channel - related notifications off after almost going crazy one afternoon with the constant pinging, so now his phone only notifies him when a friends texts him.

If they got interrupted by Basile pestering him again about getting them into that party next Friday, Lucas is going to kill him.

He runs the pad of his index finger over the back of his phone, unlocking it. His eyebrows shoot up in confusion when an Instagram notification pops up.

Who communicates through direct messages with their friends when you can use whatsapp?

He slides down the notifications bar, frowning when he reads the username.

“Uh”

“Is it Baz?” Yann questions from the kitchen, sticking his head in the door. “If he’s asking about the party again, tell him to go buy the tickets himself.”

“Eh, not exactly?” Lucas trails off, his confused tone making it sound like a question.

Yann walks back into the room with a sandwich in his hand and a bottle of water. Despite his confusion, Lucas gives him an unimpressed look.

Yann shrugs.

“Who is it, then?”

Lucas proceeds to show him the screen in silence.

@srodulv shared a picture with you

“Okay.” Yann looks at Lucas with an equally puzzled expression. “Who the hell is this ‘sroduluv’ person, or whatever?”

“I… don't know.”

“But you're following them.” Yann states.

“Yes.”

“And they sent you a picture.”

“Apparently?” Lucas asks in a high pitched voice, throwing his hands up in the air. “Shit, I don't know!”

That's all it takes for Yann to burst out laughing, falling on the couch and rolling over himself as he tries to control his chuckles.

“What's so funny?” Lucas whines.

“Bet you 10 bucks it’s another dick pic.” Yann laughs, looking at Lucas pointedly.

Lucas blushes profusely at the reminder, tucking his chin on his neck. It’s been known to happen, alright. He can't help that he looks like a twink most of the time - Yann says it's the hair. Arthur argues that it's his mouth.

Anyway.

“That happened once.”   Lucas retorts. “Maybe twice.”

Yann looks at him with a face that has whatever helps you sleep at night, buddy written all over it. So maybe it's happened more times than he’d care to admit.

“So? Open it!” Yann urges Lucas, nudging him when the latter just stays still.

Lucas braces himself and taps on the notification.

He opens the picture.

“Wait,” He blurts out. “What?”

“Is it a dick pic?” Yann asks curiously. When Lucas only blinks, he gasps. “Is it worse?”

Lucas blinks again, half expecting to see the picture before his eyes turn into an actual dick pic. When he opens his eyes again, the picture is still there, looking exactly like it did seconds ago.

He passes the phone wordlessly to Yann.

“What the- is that a fucking dog lying on an inflatable popsicle pool toy?” Yann laughs incredulously. “Holy shit. That’s what I call a plot twist.”

“Who the hell is this person and why are they sending me dog pics? What is going on?”

“I have absolutely no idea,” Yann says distractedly, still looking at the screen in wonder. “but you have to marry them.”

“What the fuck, Yann?”

“They sent you a picture of a bulldog laying around a pool, Lucas. That's the epitome of true romance.”

“We don't know who it is. We don't even know if it’s a dude.” Lucas hisses. “For all we know, they could be a serial killer trying to lure handsome young men with pictures of insanely cute puppies.”

“It is a cute puppy.” Yann concedes. “But you can, and call me crazy here, maybe look at their profile? Just a suggestion, though.”

Lucas withdraws his phone from between Yann’s hands immediately, tapping on this mysterious person’s profile with no hesitation.

And, holy shit. He definitely remembers now, alright.

It’s the guy . The one with the soft hair and sparkling eyes.

His eyes land on a recent picture - it’s in black and white. He’s supporting his head with his hand as he looks at the lenses with captivating eyes. He has a bit of stubble, and the black sweater he’s wearing makes him look so cozy, and Lucas wants to die.

“I definitely need to marry him.” Lucas murmurs dazzled, his heart going fast against his ribcage, as he scrolls through the guy’s posts. His lips actually tingle with how bad he wants to brush his mouth against those cheekbones.

Lucas hadn't even noticed he had followed him back.

His eyes find his bio again, and he's surprised it's still the same one from a year ago. Model. Then, another detail catches his eye, and his breath hitches. Eliott.

Eliott.

That’s his name. It fits him perfectly, Lucas thinks.

“I’m guessing he’s hot, then?” Yann snorts from the other side of the couch. Lucas had kind of forgotten he was still there, to be honest.

He looks up from his phone.

“He’s gorgeous.”

Yann smirks with knowing eyes.

“Are you going to answer him?” He asks innocently. As if he doesn't know already, the bastard.

Lucas doesn't dignify him with an answer. Instead, he looks back at his phone, fingers looming over the keyboard as he thinks of a good answer.

In the end, he settles with a simple text.

@lucallemant

hi? haha

He waits for a beat, then two, and tries not to feel disappointed when he doesn't get a text back.

He’s probably busy, he tells himself, or maybe he's sleeping? Lucas doesn't even know where he's from. He might be living in fucking California, for all he knows - although he really hopes that's not the case.

Noting his distress, Yann takes the phone from his grip and turns the volume off, tossing it to the other couch. He puts the controller in Lucas’ hands and squeezes his shoulder.

“C’mon. It's best friend quality time.” Yann gives him a gentle smile. “I demand attention now.”

Lucas bursts into a laugh - just like that, he forgets all about his phone and possible unanswered texts.

***

The hours fly by, and before he knows it, Lucas is saying goodbye to a freshly - beaten, grumpy Yann.

“I totally kicked your ass.” Lucas brags as they walk to the door.

“I totally let you win.” Yann fires back.

“You wish.” Lucas laughs before pulling Yann into a half-hug, patting him on the back. “See you tomorrow, dude.”

“Tomorrow.” Yann salutes and flashes him a smile, closing the door.

Lucas shakes his head, still smiling, and makes his way to the couch. His bed for the last few months, actually. It's a long story.

He sprawls himself on the sofa with his hands under his head, sighing. He should go shower.

He smells himself discreetly, pleased when he doesn't get the need to fill his nostrils with soap. He’ll shower tomorrow, then.

He’s starting to relax when his eyes land on his phone, still discarded on the other couch, and he swears. He'd completely forgotten about it.

With his heart in his throat, he pushes himself forward as he reaches for the phone.

It’s just a guy. I didn't even really know of his existence before today. He tells himself like a mantra. So what if he doesn't answer back? There's plenty more guys out there. Although maybe not as beautiful, or mesmerizing, or - okay, not helping.

He breaths through his nose before unlocking his phone.

A little sound leaves his mouth.

@srodulv

Hello :)

Okay. So they're really doing this, then. Cool. Totally cool. He's so not freaking out right now.

He types out an answer.

@lucallemantj

what's up with the dog pic?

He locks the phone again, holding it against his chest as he wills his heart to calm down. This time, he doesn't have to wait a second before his phone pings again.

@srodulv

With all the messages you must get, I though I should try to make an impression haha

Did it work?

So the guy isn't afraid to double text, then? Interesting.

@lucallemant

it definitely left an impression alright

@srodulv

A good one, I hope?

Lucas grins. He turns off the lights and gets himself comfortable on the couch, getting rid of the t-shirt he’s wearing.

It’s July, and he’s in the heart of Paris. Also, despite the good views this apartment might have, the air system would do with some fixing.

@lucallemant

sure :)

@srodulv

I’m Eliott

@lucallemant

i know

@srodulv

?

@lucallemant

it says on your profile

@srodulv

That makes sense haha

Lucas flushes. He can't believe he went with the ‘I know’ trope. He groans internally.

Did he fuck up?

@lucallemant

i’m lucas

When Eliott doesn't answer back, Lucas feels his heart fall to the floor. He definitely fucked up.

Fuck. This is why he never gets a date. He's so fucking awkward, God-

@srodulv

I know ;)

Lucas sighs with relief. He didn't fuck up yet, then.

He even sent him a winky face. That's good, right?

@lucallemant

i liked it, btw. the picture

@srodulv

I knew you would

Lucas bites his bottom lip, grinning from ear to ear.

@lucallemant

you did? what else do you know, then?

@srodulv

Hmmm…

Lucas grins even harder. This sounds so much like flirting. Are they flirting? Lucas is trying to, at least.

@srodulv

I know that you are very nice. You like singing, too. And you like guys who send you ridiculous pictures with dogs and pool toys, now.

@lucallemant

a bit pretentious with the last one

@srodulv

Am I wrong?

Lucas blushes. Not at all. He's not going to tell him that yet, though.

@lucallemant

wait you've seen my videos?

@srodulv

A couple of them

If Eliott notices the change of subject, he doesn't comment on it. Lucas is thankful.

@lucallemant

and what did you think?

@srodulv

Oh they're awful

Just kidding. I think you have an amazing voice, actually

@lucallemant

omg thank u

Should he do it?

Fuck it, he's going to do it.

@lucallemant

i’m kinda blushing over here haha

Double texting his crush. Yann would be proud.

@srodulv

Aww shame I can't see it. Where’s over here?

@lucallemant

Paris (:

@srodulv

Cool! I live there, too

Lucas tries not to freak out at the newfound information. He’s not doing a very good job, but he's certainly trying.

His fingers hoover over the keyboard, deciding whether he should type the text or not.

What he wants to say is, maybe we could go out for a drink, then?

What he types in instead, is

@lucallemant

weird we haven't bumped into each other yet lol

@srodulv

Well I’m not in Paris right now, actually

@lucallemant

where are you then??

@srodulv

London, for a job :) I’m staying here for a couple more weeks

What are you studying?

@lucallemant

that must be so cool!! i’ve never been to london, but i want to go so badly

and i’m studying biophysics. sounds boring, i know. and it takes so much time off my daily life i barely have time to post covers. thank god it's summer now

@srodulv

I would love to take you there sometime, then. If you want to

I want to. He wants to scream at his phone. I really fucking want to.

He resists the need to chuck his phone out the window in pure ecstatic.

@srodulv

And that sounds so interesting! Maybe one day you can give me one or two classes on the topic? Damn, you really have everything

@lucallemant

everything? i don't think so lol

@srodulv

You are super cute and nice. You have a killer voice. And now you are really fucking clever, too? That, sir, is having everything as far as I'm concerned

@lucallemant

i’m certainly not cute enough to be a model. Unlike *others*

and who are u calling sir omg I’m 19, not 90

@srodulv

You're a baby :o you would make the cutest baby model

@lucallemant

how old are u??

@srodulv

21

@lucallemant

what the fuck are you calling me baby for omg you’re literally two years older

@srodulv

Nope, sorry. You’re a baby

A BABY, Lucas

Lucas feels like his heart is going to burst. He doesn’t think he’s smiled for so long in years – maybe ever.

Eliott is doing things to his head. It’s not just that he is, admittedly, really attractive – Lucas won’t lie, it doesn’t hurt -, he’s also charming as hell. He’s making Lucas feel so special right now, and Lucas loves it.

He glances at the clock on his phone from the corner of his eye, mouth hanging open when his brain registers the time.

It's 3 a.m.

Have they really been talking for the past 2 hours?

@lucallemant

it’s 3 a.m. already, what?? how did this happen?

i should go to bed :/

@srodulv

You’re leaving me already? :(

@lucallemant

nooo i will be back, promise

i just have to get up really early tomorrow morning

@srodulv

Promise?

Lucas smiles. He’s so cute.

@lucallemant

i promise

@srodulv

Okay, then :)

Sleep well, Lucas ♡

@lucallemant

goodnight eliott

He debates with himself for a momet before making up his mind. Eliott did it first anyway, technically.

@lucallemant

♡

He locks his phone and leaves it on the table. Rolling himself over, he exhales, hiding his grin against the makeshift pillow.

Sleep comes to him fast, glimpses of smokey grey eyes and bright smiles painting his dreams with vivid colors.

When he wakes up, the sun coming through the big windows shines on his skin comfortably. He feels warm all over with the memories of last night, his dreams still present in his mind.

And when he sees Eliott’s new post, the caption //way down we go// glaring at him through the screen, he convinces himself it’s just a coincidence - despite having posted a cover of the same song less than 24 hours ago, and Eliott admitted he’d seen some of his videos. It’s a coincidence .

Nonetheless, when his friends ask if he forgot grumpy Lucas at home for the 4th time that morning, he just flips them off with a soaring heart.

He's still smiling.

[michael-and-bots]

FNAF character headcanons for my AU!

This is for my personal AU for what I think happens in the FNAF timeline+more! Click under the cut to see everyone!

Humans

Michael Afton: Mostly just Done and Tired. He’s easy to anger and upset(who wouldn’t be in his state?), but he really is a good dude. It’s just kinda hard being a walking corpse man with trauma so intense that no therapist would believe you. He also has no one except for Jeremy and Scott(phone guy), who both have their own shit to deal with. He COULD consider the animatronics his friends, but that’s kinda hard when they try to kill him every night. Has the life goal of ending what his father began.

William Afton: GROSS BOY!! He’s not a stereotypical maniac killer, he’s a genius, and isn’t afraid to to flaunt that, but his utter lack of empathy is what makes him not feel any remorse for what he does, and his lack of care for anything but himself and genuine curiosity of what happens when you die is what drove him to murder. He’s awful. (See more: Springtrap)

Elizabeth Afton: Cheerful, curious, and adventurous. She’s much like her father in these ways, however she has more empathy and wishes to help people, however she’s not afraid to place herself before others. Around eight years old before death. (See more: Baby)

Cassidy Afton: Shy, hesitant, and introverted. He very quiet when around strangers, and still quiet when around family. He has a lot going on in his head- a giant imagination, something he gets from his father. He often gets dragged along by his twin sister on adventures. Around eight years old before death. (See more: Golden Freddy)

Mrs. Afton: Quiet and kinda a doormat. She loves singing and often sings to her children or to herself. She is kinda scared of William, but genuinely cares about him and tries everything she can to make him happy. Committed suicide after her first child died and her husband refused to give her comfort. (See more: Ballora)

Jeremy: This Boy Has No Fear And Someone Must Stop Him. He obviously can’t get a job in his condition of, Yknow, lacking a frontal lobe? Luckily, Scott took him in and they’ve been living together for the most part!! Jeremy would get into a lot of trouble while Scott was at work until Michael eventually moved in as well. Making sure Jeremy didn’t follow any dumb fucking impulse was like a day shift, but he didn’t mind it too much. Jeremy does care about people and things and does have a will to live, he just completely forgets that stuff when he gets distracted and interested by something that would usually make someone take off running.

Scott(Phone Guy): Nervous twink. Has been working in the establishment for a LONG ASS TIME! He’s pretty sketchy and kinda a compulsive liar, mostly out of fear of William, even after the guys dead. He is literally constantly trying to get Michael and Jeremy to Not Do The Thing.

Henry: Big ol happy bear guy! For awhile, at least. After Charlie died and all the things happened with William, he lost his will to live. Design and engineering was no longer fun to him after someone he grew up with and cared about shattered everything about them in his face with a trail of bloody child murders. Rather sketchy and vague. Deeply cares about his mission to end this as much as Michael does. Charlie: A kind-hearted little girl adopted by Henry. She’s the mom friend- someone who tries to make sure everyone’s happy and tries her best to make sure everything’s okay. She was best friends with Elizabeth before she was killed. Around eight years old before death. (See more: Marionette)

Animatronics

Freddy: Stoic, leader-like, quiet, very reclusive and tries to hide just about anything emotional.

Bonnie: nervous and twitchy, but kinda clever in a way? He'll like drop his guitar or something while muttering "shit. Fuck. Fuck. Dammit. This shits slipping like my guts did through That Bitch Williams hands.." and then get whacked in the back of the head by the others. Hates his body and doesn’t like to be stared at.

Chica: Very soft gal! She doesn’t really take many things seriously? She screams a lot and cusses like a sailor even when being nice. She's very motherly though and adores the kids.

Foxy: little shit garbage boy. Very unstable and emotional and emo. He hides in his cove and when he's not hiding he's being a little shit by making fun of everyone. Twitches a lot. Bonds with Bonnie well cause they joke about their trauma. "This here pizzas worse than that fuckin' kids skull, Chica. Did ya even cook the shit? I'll go Gordon Ramsay on yar ass, I swear it." (Even tho he didn’t cause the bite- though tbh I feel like he pretends to have some psychic twin connection with Mangle for some dumb reason)

Toy Freddy: "listen, man. I'm not possessed by any fucking kids. I'm just here to do my job. And eat pizza."

Toy Bonnie: "> : 3 c"

Toy Chica: Very flirty and chipper, far sweeter than normal chica. While og chica will fight someone if they insult her, Toy Chica will just cry or smth imo.

Mangle: "!!!!!!!!!BARK!!!!!!!!!!!!!BALL????????????????H????????!!!!$!$&&;&;!:7374:${£}£|\+!!!!!!!!!!!!"(literally haunted by a dog. no one can really understand them except for Chica or sometimes Foxy. However, they use sign language to communicate to everyone else.)

Golden Freddy/Fredbear: Goes by Goldie. Far more childish than someone would expect. Hates his reflection. Very rarely shows up because of his fear of the other animatronics, even though he's aware they're also kids possessing them. Don’t ask how he functions in an empty suit, he doesn’t know either. (See more: Cassidy Afton).

Marionette: Goes by “Em”. An Absolute Mom. She takes care of everyone in the restaurant and looks after them. She was overprotective at first, but when the re-opened building closed after The Bite she lost that bloodlust and was fine with hiding away with Goldie, especially since he’s very lonely and doesn’t panic looking at her. She also feels rather bad for Michael, and would never kill anyone EXCEPT for William. Very close with Baby. (See more: Charlie)

Springtrap: Absolute sweetheart!!!! Baby boy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Wouldn't harm a fly!!!!!!! Most the time. His connection with Williams soul is different than everyone else? While they kinda fused(??) with their animatronics cause the puppet gave em life, Springtrap is still his own bot but very often possessed by William, who is of course fucking awful. mostly a mute due to his broken down voice box and his fear of talking in general due to so many years alone with just Williams soul(see more: William Afton).

Baby: She’s kinda a little shit? She seems quiet and polite but her very soft-spoken voice says some alarming things or just straight up insults. She’s rather clever and can easily outsmart practically everyone. She doesn’t seem to be very bothered by her death unlike everyone else. After getting kicked out by Ennard, her endoskeleton literally hangs out in the back alley way- or even the kitchen of Freddy’s. Often talks to Em. (see more: Elizabeth Afton).

Ballora: Mom friend, or more like literal mom, in a sense. Ballora is possessed by Mrs. Afton, and is rather aggressive in a way that is vague if you catch my drift. She has a love/hate relationship with William, which is a very common symptom of abuse(see more: Mrs. Afton).

Funtime Freddy: ABSOLUTE CHAOTIC DUMBASS. (used to be shocked the most out of everyone else- eventually it damaged his hard drive and made him more chaotic. They had to hook him off of the controlled shock treatment to prevent him from over frying.)

Funtime Foxy: attention whore. Enjoys being a dumb shithead just like Ft Freddy, but takes the fact that he used to be a child and was killed by the person enslaving them more seriously.

Ennard: An amalgamation of Baby, Ballora, and FT Freddy and Foxy. It’s a little chaotic shit, and has this fake crush on Michael, and enjoys making fun of his pain.

Molten Freddy: Ennard, but without Baby. After Baby was kicked out, both Ballora and Ft Foxy were too submissive to take her place as the one in charge, so Ft Freddy took control, which wasn’t a very good idea. Molten Freddy is very chaotic and loud, as well as twitchy and dangerous. Ennard's slight attachment towards Michael was replaced by pure love for seeing him suffer- but more just disinterest in general.