#but its funny how michael was like “here is a door for you go open it”

[fishymom-art]

i finished season 4 of magnus archives and i am NOT okay

everyone's traumatized, but 4 lesbians, a muffin gay and a terrified asexual got a little win so that's good

[somewhere-in-wales]

What if, in this moment, Aziraphale & Crowley found themselves unexpectedly transported to our world?

And then met these two idiots?

And they all had to work together to get Aziraphale & Crowley back?

I wrote a fic about it (When Worlds Collide). Here are some nice things people wrote underneath its chapters:

"I can't tell you how much I'm in love with this fic. Like I want to marry it, right now! The amounts of times I literally shrieked with laughter reading this. I had to stop to wipe my eyes, I am dying"

"In love w this actually. the SHENANIGANS!!!! this was a joy to read"

"this fic is eating me alive. an immediate cult classic. if i had your permission and any ability to execute this at all, i would bind this fic in leather and carry it with me all my days like a spiritual nomad with their dearest tome. You Are Taking Me There."

"JFJDJDJDJFJFKDUSHCMCKCD I NEED TO GO TO BED BUT THIS FIC IS SO GOOD"

"Oh, Chapter 4 is my favorite so far. And that's saying a lot, because every time I read a new one I think 'there's no way this can be topped...it's too good, too funny, too fresh a take on these characters"

You can find it on AO3 here When World's Collide, there's an exert below, and if you're feeling generous enough to do a little signal boost re-blog, I will love you forever.

"Terribly sorry, but I wonder if I might help settle this business about whether we are who we say we are?"

Michael and David exchange glances.

"I doubt it" says Michael, reaching around the door frame for his water bottle whilst stepping out of the bathroom to take a swig. Aziraphale sweeps his hand in an arc as Michael puts the bottle to his lips, glugging. He immediately coughs and spits red wine forcefully across the room.

“Holy shit!” Exclaims David, jumping backwards to avoid being splashed.

"What the Hell was that for?" Michael splutters angrily, wiping his mouth, eyes moving between Aziraphale and Crowley

"Did you swap that out when I was filming?" he asks, irritably, looking around at the mess. "You've completely ruined the costume."

"I do hate to see it ruined," Aziraphale worries, glancing at Crowley who mock pouts. "No harm done to the furnishings at least" he says, as the stains miraculously disappear. He turns to Crowley again, appealing.

"Yes, fine" responds the Demon, getting up dramatically. He eyes Michael, who's still agitated, and feels like someone is looking into his soul. The gaze of an actual Demon, not just his acting partner, is enough to stifle any remaining irritation. With his eyes fixed on Michael, Crowley lifts his hand to click his fingers, and removes the stains from the actor's costume completely. Michael looks wordlessly at where the stain was, and raises his gaze appealingly to David.

"It's not... they can't... this is ...." he tails off, walking over to the table and sitting down.

Crowley sweeps his eyes over David's features "he's Aziraphale?" he asks, a depth of skepticism to his tone, "this guy?"

"Yes", says David "he's lovely really" Aziraphale side-eyes David before flitting his gaze to Crowley.

"And you're me?" Crowley asks slowly, with equal depth.

"Y...yes" says David with rather less confidence. Even underneath the dark glasses, he can tell the Demon is searching his eyes. "I might just take the contacts out" he says, to no one in particular, and ducks back into the bathroom.

"They'll need our costumes back. Where are you two going to sleep tonight?" Michael asks.

"Oh I don't sleep" Aziraphale shakes his head as though he's been offered an unappealing appetiser.

"I do"

"We'll get you a hotel room" says Michael. Aziraphale and Crowley exchange glances and Michael resists the urge to settle their discomfort by saying they'll get two. This situation is ridiculous, but he'll be damned if he isn't going to have a little fun with it.

"Thank you" Aziraphale offers, politely.

The door to the bathroom opens and David comes out, eyes back to normal. Crowley looks him over, flicking his eyes to Aziraphale, gauging the Angel's reaction. Aziraphale stares at David's face, breathing slowly, mind retracing memories long gone, but never forgotten.

"We better go then" Crowley huffs.

"Not dressed like that" David gestures to Aziraphale, who looks down at his clothes fondly, smoothing down his jacket.

"I have standards, you know?" He says.

"He's not wrong" Crowley agrees.

Michael, who had been watching Aziraphale's reactions thoughtfully, taking mental notes, speaks up "if we go in pairs and break up leaving, it's possible that no one will notice two David and Michael's leaving."

David looks uncertain.

"Unless you have a better idea?" Michael asks, "One, single, better idea?" Crowley and Aziraphale both flick their heads to look at Michael in recognition.

"No, let's do that" David relents. "I'm going to change." He steps back into the bathroom.

"Me too" says Michael, heading for the door "I'll be back in 5 minutes."

A few minutes later, Michael returns in the outfit he arrived in that day, to the general disdain of Aziraphale.

"Do you still think we should come to an arrangement?" Asks Crowley, smiling at this turn of events.

"I can't wear that" Aziraphale gestures to Michael's clothes, completely failing to hide his disgust at the suggestion he should wear such an outfit.

"What's wrong with this?" Michael asks. He's wearing jeans and a shirt, nothing worthy of such disdain. His question is ignored.

"You have to, Angel" Crowley teases, just as the bathroom door opens and David enters in a bright purple jumper. Crowley looks at him, then back at Aziraphale, a panicked expression briefly flicks across his features. The Angel raises his eyebrows and puts his hands on his hips in a look that communicates 'your move'.

"Oh Hell no, that's not happening" the Demon states. Clicking his fingers, he changes Michael and Aziraphale into sharp suits, David and himself into slightly-less-tight-than-usual black jeans and a slim black shirt. "Take it or leave it" he says, glancing briefly at Aziraphale, who's eyes soften, and lips form a slight smile in thanks whilst he smooths down the well-fitting suit.

"Yes, much better" The Angel sighs.

"For you, maybe, I'd never turn up to work in this" Michael fiddles uncomfortably with the collar.

"You should dear, you look ...nice" Aziraphale says, moving over to Michael to smooth his collar. Michael frowns at the Angel, noting the back-handed compliment.

"The hotel's not far," says David. "I'll call for a car. I'll take Aziraphale." Aziraphale and Crowley exchange glances in silent resignation. "We should wait at least 10 minutes before you call for yours" he raises his eyebrows, a quick glance at Crowley. He reckons he has the easier job.

"So, I'll be pretending to be..." Aziraphale gestures to Michael.

"Michael" Michael looks unconvinced by this.

"Yes, I know, I just wondered if there's anything I should know about you?"

"Probably best if you just don't talk" Michael glances between Aziraphale and Crowley. But Aziraphale looks very uncomfortable at this suggestion.

"He's an actor" David tries to offer something that will help.

"Yes" Aziraphale responds in a tone that shows his patience is wearing thin.

"He lives in Wales" David tries again.

"Oh," Aziraphale smiles, a look of relief forming on his features "Oh lovely, I do love the Welsh Coast" he beams, looking at each of the other trailer occupants. "Yes, yes I think I can handle this" he nods, confidently, adjusting his cuffs.

David smiles back, broadly.

Michael and Crowley are less confident, their eyes meet with a knowing expression of concern.

Continued here

[koji-haru]

Okay!!! Here a random idea, but only if you get bored. -also hope the pumpkin pie went okay.

It’s a classic cute dumb, but I can’t resist.

Since heaven is basically perfect, I’m assuming that the most damage you might do is to your wings or halo. Either by rough housing with Lucifer or by sparing with Lute, either one of his wings or halo gets messed up. So they have to take Adam to the healer to get them fixed, but in order to do that they have to put them to sleep/ aesthetic. And when Adam wakes up he’s all out of it with hardly any memory. Just the classic of calling Michael pretty and crying when he mentions their married.

Sorry! I just saw a video and I loved it so much!

[Ah, I like it! Just them being very cute together! Also, this is a perfect palate cleanser considering my last few updates. - And I know I already answered it, but the pumpkin pie was great! Even better than what I expected!

Anyway, something short and sweet, and maybe a little funny? I tried, but I'm no good at humour ┐(´～｀)┌ ]

Lute sat a little nervously outside of Adam’s room at one of Raphael’s clinics, twiddling her thumbs in awkward silence. Michael was sitting beside her, also waiting to be let in the room, though the expression on his face clearly told her that he was not impressed, with her nor with Adam. Having to explain to Michael how Adam got his halo damaged in the first place was embarrassing enough, but now she also had to wait with a displeased archangel by her side for a few hours. She kept her head down like a child who had been caught doing things they shouldn’t, which actually wasn’t that far off from what had happened. 

The door clicked open and one of Raphael’s students finally invited them into the room. Inside was Adam, resting on the bed, eyes looking particularly looking at nothing. 

“He just woke up, so his mind might be a little foggy. But other than that, his halo has been fixed, no major damage, just a few minor scratches and cracks,” the student said before leaving the room. 

Michael sat on the chair beside Adam while Lute decided to remain standing by the foot of the bed. 

“So, how did wrestling with leviathans go?,” Michael asked with a plastered smile. 

Leviathans were colossal beasts that lurked around the edges of purgatory, ensuring that no wayward soul stumbled their way into either Heaven or Hell. While angels could normally deal with one easily enough, they were still dangerous beasts, and dealing with multiple of them would be quite foolish. And today, it seemed that both Adam and Lute decided to be foolish as the two decided that the best way to spend their day off was to see who could subdue the most leviathans between them. 

“Huh? Levywhatnow?” Adam squinted at the blurry figure in front of him. “Who are you?,” he asked, one hand wobbling towards Michael to cusp his face.

Michael let out a light-hearted laugh, “You don’t know me? I’m Michael, the archangel of justice.”

“Your hair is so soft,” Adam mumbled as he played with Michael’s hair between his fingers, fully immersing himself in its delicate softness. Then he turned his gaze back towards Michael’s face as if only remembering now that there was a person in front of him. He squinted again, trying to get the blurriness out of his vision. In front of him, there was a pale face, cool dark blue eyes that he could easily get lost into, and…were those stars around his eyes? Adam brushed his thumb over Michael’s star markings, golden eyes shining in fascination and wonder. He let out an audible gasp, “Woah, justice is so pretty.”

Lute covered her mouth with a hand, trying to hold in her laughter while her other hand reached for her phone in her pocket. There was no way she would pass up on a chance to record any embarrassing thing that Adam did. This would be a good leash for when Adam would act like a dick in the foreseeable future. 

“Really? You think so?,” Michael asked, his smile widening at Adam’s look of absolute adoration. 

Adam didn’t reply, too absorbed admiring the most beautiful sight he had ever seen, mouth slightly agape and eyes glistening in admiration. Eventually, his hand stopped caressing Michael’s face as it slid down to grasp at his hand instead. Again, fascination was in his eyes as he held Michael’s hand. It was calloused from a lifetime of training and work, yet it was also the gentlest hand he had ever held onto. It made him feel safe and at home. He squeezed Michael’s hand then looked seriously at the archangel. 

“Are you single?”

This time, Michael also had to hold in his laughter along with Lute, who was ready to burst in the background, phone in hand recording everything. “No, I’m married.”

Tears welled up around Adam’s eyes as a heavy disappointment dropped onto him. “Oh, I lost the chance…,” he sniffled, eyes looking absolutely devastated at the news he just heard. 

“I’m married to someone called Adam,” Michael added. 

Adam simply hummed in response, not looking back towards Michael, he didn’t care who he was married to. He was just too upset that the archangel was already out of his reach. 

“You’re Adam, you idiot,” Lute told him. 

“What?,” Adam snapped his head back towards the pretty angel beside him, eyes suddenly bright and hopeful again. 

Michael smiled back at him, a hand caressing Adam’s cheek. “That’s right, I’m married to you.”

Tears flowed down Adam’s cheeks as an overwhelming amount of happiness rushed out of his very being. He couldn’t believe it! He was married to the most beautiful angel! “No way!!,” he cried with happy disbelief. “I’m married to you??”

Michael nodded, “We are married. See?” He showed Adam his wedding band on his finger, a proof of their union. “You have yours on your left hand. Take a look.”

And Adam did, pulling his left hand from under the blanket and stared shocked at the gold band on his left ring finger. He kept turning his hand around, watching the ring sparkle under the room’s light as if not believing its existence on his finger. 

“We’ve been husbands for over a millennia now. That’s how much I love you,” Michael added, the final nail on Adam’s happy coffin. 

“You love me??,” Adam asked, looking very teary eyed towards Michael. He felt like his heart was about to burst from the sheer joy of this sudden revelation. This angel, who was the prettiest he had ever laid eyes upon, was married to him and had loved him for over a millennia already? Adam had never felt so blessed in his life, he felt as if he was in Heaven. He grasped Michael’s hand with both hands, eyes looking very earnestly at Michael as he professed his feelings, “I love you too! My husband!!” 

Then more happy tears escaped from his eyes.

[zabala0z]

Welcome to my thoughts on MAG 101!!! I’m suffering!

So, Orsinov makes me want to jump out my skin; which I’m sure she’d love. One thing I also thought was interesting was when she told Breekon and Hope to move that coffin away and they said it needs to be near them? Why?? I’m pretty sure this is the same coffin from Do Not Open and that one ep about Daisy stopping them but in Do Not Open, the coffin was left with Joshua so it doesn’t always have to be near them. Why now? I love overthinking. Orsinov is also like #1 skincare queen. Like of course she wants good skin, she’s flaying people.

Now onto the main shit: Michael. My god.

Hearing Michael’s creepy, reverberating laugh with headphones at like 8 PM was an experience. The scream I let out. Michael is truly a neutral party. He doesn’t want anyone to win and will not take any side. Literally just fucks with everything and I respect it.

Michael’s existence is…hella complicated. ALSO, remember in earlier posts when I said that Gertrude sounded nice?? Yeah I completely take that back. Michael Shelley. It’s funny but I was unaware of how my sister accidentally spoiled me with Michael’s name. When I yelled at her about Michael, she said “Michael Shelley?” And I just said yeah. Did not realize he had a last name.

Also!!! Peter Lukas!!! I hate you!! I need a Lukas member to pop up again because I’m going insane over this family. What is their deal.

The-worker-of-clay. Fun name. I’m guessing The Spiral tried to have its own like world altering event so Gertrude kinda like sacrificed Michael? His story made me sad. Like Jesus. This is a full identity crisis.

Then Jon’s little attempt happened but the door didn’t open which by the way, why??? Jesus. Michaels scream made me actually rip off my headphones. AND THEN HELEN??? Like hi girl what are you doing here?? She also said Michael is gone so is he just…dead? She’s still the distortion though. So, what, is it like fingers on a hand? Her and Michael are the fingers to The Spiral?

That’s all my thoughts. I’m actually going to post again soon because I got 5 more episodes to talk about. I just wanted to give this episode its own post because god was it insane

[ghost-of-you]

Do you ever think about how Michael and Luke both agreed with Calum when Calum said he’d already planned what he was going to say if asked where Ash was in the podcast, before Ashton makes the joke the other two carry on with? The whole band, possibly independently of each other, all agreed to just lie for Ashton if anyone questioned where he was. I love the little jokes we get, but I still can’t stop thinking about Michael and Luke both going “yeah me too” when Calum says he’d already decided what he’d say if anyone asked (and it’s low key funny that Calum evidently decided gaslighting was his solution, make people question who the hell Ashton even is. People: Where’s Ashton? Calum: There’s never been an Ashton in this band, who are you talking about?)

Anon, darling, I had to sit with this ask, because I did think about it a lot. That story has so many layers to just leave you crying in the club. I know no one takes the 2015 Rolling Stone article seriously, but I read that after the podcast because the Christmas shows were right after the dude that wrote it followed them around since he followed them around Michael's birthday, so around November 19 to 23 maybe, since they mention a show they did on November 22 and the first of the shows is December 1 (they did 10 holiday shows in 2015). But the closing of that article is this:

CLIFFORD’S FAVORITE BAND moment last year did not happen onstage, or when they were getting chased, or when their record went to Number One. It was in Milan, when 5SOS asked for five minutes alone during a tour stop, away from its entourage. That’s when Hood started climbing out a window, into the parking lot. The others followed. “We were like, ‘Holy shit, this is going to be the greatest prank ever,'” says Clifford. “We shut the window and jumped out and hid in the parking lot, and watched our managers go in the room. “They opened the door and were like, ‘Where did the guys go?'” he continues. “They went in the bathroom, the whole thing. They started freaking out. ‘Holy shit, they’re all gone.'” “We could have ran,” says Clifford, smiling. “We could have ran far away.”

They were in Milan in 2015 on May 8 and 9 and on November 12. There's a chance this story and the one on the podcast are a month apart. There's a chance they climbed out a window in fucking Italy thinking about running less than a month before Ashton comes up to them and says, I have a ticket to Seatle, I'm out of here. This is something that they all had been thinking about. And the way they were all ready to take the fall for Ashton makes me even more insane because Ashton is the oldest, we all joke he's the dad of the group, but they were all like, we got you, you go is just, yk? Michael had just turned 20, Luke and Calum were still 19, they were kids dude. Ready to gaslight the shit out of their management to give Ashton his break. And they had talked about it enough for Calum, Michael, and Luke to already have a story rehearsed. That's beyond insane.

[themarginalthinker]

Bittersweet

The months before the divorce were hard.

-

"-and if you think I'm going to take this-"

"-No, you're gonna run away, just like you always do!"

"At least then I won't have to sit here and watch and pretend that you're not doing exactly what you're doing with that woman-!"

The house never feels so small as when the screaming inside of it reaches its maximum volume. The sound of it echoes and bounces through the kitchen, up the stairs, and through the hallway. The hardwood floor makes for great acoustics, letting Sam know exactly the moment someone - he knows who - throws something glass on the floor. It's the only thing he can hear, the noise replaying for long seconds in his head.

At least, he tells himself, it's just a plate or a cup. Not someone's hand against their body.

Sam stares outside at the slowly sinking sun. He sits at his desk, the red-gold rays providing enough light he doesn't need to turn on his lamp yet. Under his hands, the pencil clutched limply in his fingers, his math homework sits, half-done.

If you have two parents, and one decides to get caught with someone else, how soon will all hell break loose.

It would be kinda funny, if it were happening in another house. To another person, another family. In a TV show or movie or book. Sam's hands shake as he lifts them from the desk, palms clammy. He tries to take a breath - and jolts when there's the deep, rattling slamming of a door, the garage door. An engine stars with the same kind of screaming as was happening with human voices, and soon, it's silent.

Sam doesn't know if he likes that any better.

Foot steps up the stairs, and Sam turns quickly to his door. It's closed, and he waits. But they move past, towards the end of the hall. The master bedroom.

That door slams too.

Through the wall by his own bed, Sam can hear his mother's voice gasp and heave. Sobs, muffled through layers of wood and drywall. Sam turns back around to his desk. The light was getting redder as the sun moved, imperceptibly, soon to be below the distant craggy mountains past the city limits. Sam kept his eyes on them as the noises quieted to nothing.

Then, a knock at his door.

Michael doesn't wait for Sam to answer. He sticks his head in.

"Hey."

Sam tries to keep his voice steady. "Hey," he answers.

Michael glances to the side, towards their parents room. Then back to Sam.

"You wanna take a ride? You've been working on that since you got home."

He nods to the papers on Sam's desk. Half done. Interrupted. Equations that read like number salad in his head, repeating the same instructions over and over, notes from class that sound like Charlie Brown adult gibberish when other words were so much more clear and ringing in his head.

Sam nods. "Okay."

He grabs his shoes, a colorful overshirt to slip over his plain tee. Michael's got his bike keys in hand, and with a scribbled note left on the counter, they're off.

The warm air of the coming summer whips wonderfully past them as they zip through the streets of the suburbs and into town. Whistling and light. The noise of Mike's motorbike filling the silence between the two of them until its not silence, and simply quiet company. It's roaring when Michael pushes it past what really is the legal speed limit, and when idling at a light, it purrs a constant hum of contented, but prepared energy. Sam likes the sound.

"Don't tell Mom," Michael says, pulling up to an open-air shop with a good crowd of people milling around, sitting at tables and on the curb. "She'd kill me for this."

Sam smiles. "Get a hot dog to go with it, then. That's a balanced dinner."

"Good thing we're young," Michael laughs.

-

Sam orders double-chocolate. Michael gets strawberry with cheesecake bits, and hot dogs for them both. They sit at a table, and watch the sun go down.

[undressmewithyoureyes]

Let There Be Light - Twenty Nine

“Because I like the way you say my name.”                The sentence replayed through your mind over the last few days – and the thought of Ghost not ripping Soaps throat out confused you even more. ‘Was Ghost okay with Soap flirting with me?’ ‘Was Soap trying to get Ghost and I to have a threesome with him?’ These thoughts ran over and over in your mind, and you couldn’t tell anyone if there was anything that happened on base. Your mind was occupied with other scenarios going on. Dangerous scenarios.                The last few days were just laying low, but really the team was letting you recuperate from you being drugged. It still didn’t make sense how this affected you and not the man who claimed he was your dad. You do remember asking Alejandro about it and he went on to tell you how it affects people differently and then started on the affects, but then your mind soon shifted to other ‘things’ – not hearing a word he said.                Ghost held you tighter at night and made love to you, passionately. You didn’t dare bring up anything regarding Soap – not wanting to come off that you wanted him or wanted him to even think you were interested in him, but there was that nagging feeling of why Ghost was so calm about it.

               “Price wants to see all of us in the briefing room in five,” Rudy said to me. After my incident with the drug ‘Dust’, Rodolfo insisted that I and everyone else here call him ‘Rudy’. He said he felt like he was in trouble when people called him Rodolfo due to his mother using that when he did something wrong.

               I get up from the empty cafeteria table, the same table Soap approached me at just three days prior and made my way to the briefing room. The base was quiet, and it was eerie considering we were the only ones here. The staff that cooked, was gone for the rest of the day and it was something about this place that just creeped you out – especially when it was quiet.

               You pushed open the doors to the briefing room and everyone had made sure their eyes were on you. You looked around to see you were the only one left. Your eyes find Ghost and he nods his head towards him – letting you know there was an empty seat beside him. You made your way over there to him and sit down. He places his arm on the back of your chair, and you lean in towards him.

               “You smell nice,” you whisper to him as you take in his scent. You always loved the way Ghost smelled – a hint of cologne and his natural musk. Manly and dominant. The chair beside you slides back just a bit when a body took its seat.

               You removed your eyes from Ghost and looked over to see Soap. Your heart started fluttering and your body stiffened. Sure, if you weren’t in love with Ghost, you’d give Soap a shot. He was funny and caring, but you were in love with Ghost and the thoughts you were having of just Soap and of Soap an-

               “Harley, you with us?” Price’s voice rang throughout the room.

               Your head shot up and eyes wide, “hm?” you pause looking like a deer in headlights, “Oh! Yes sir. Sorry,” you chuckle out a nervous laugh as your face flushes.

               You could see Ghost eye you out the corner of your eye, but also took note that Soap cocked his head just enough to see you and placed a small smirk on his face.

               Fuck.

               Price began speaking again, “We have received intel from Laswell that Michael and his men were spotted in Las Almas selling the drug ‘Dust’, but its not just that,” Price pauses, “We have also received word that he is in the slave trade with young girls.”

               Your head shot up. Price nodded to Gaz and Gaz flipped the light switch to the room. A projector was on pointed at the wall, as the pictures of Miachel and his men illuminated the whole room. “From what we know, Michael sells this drug and also administers it to the girls,” he pauses again, “The same drug that was ingested into Harley.”

               Ghost removed his arm from around you and placed it on your thigh, squeezing just a tad to reassure you he was here, and you were safe. You placed your had on top of his and gave a light squeeze back. Soaps breathing became heavier, and you eyed him out the corner of your eye.

               The temperature of the room heated up and you eyed around to see if anyone else was feeling the effects of the Mexico heat. Nobody. Your mind soon picked up where it left off prior to Price interrupting them – To be sure, Ghost would have a problem with sharing you, he was possessive, and you admired that about him. But he gave the okay for Soap to see you naked and touch over your body, even if it was for medicinal reasoning, Soap didn’t suffer any broken limbs.

               But his blue eyes when he stared down to you as you lay there in his lap and how softly he brushed the piece of hair out of your face - “Because I like the way you say my name.”

               “Harley,”

               “Harley…,”

               You felt an arm on the back of your chair again.

               “Harley LeAnne Traywick!”

               You flutter your eyes and shoot daggers at the man who just said your whole name. Price glared at you with concern over his face, “Harley, are you okay? You’re really flustered”.

               You clear your throat as the temperature of the room just went up to the degree of Hell, “Y-yes sir.”

               “The drug can still have an effect on her Captain,” Alejandro spoke up, “I would give it another day and she should be good to go.”

               Price nodded his head and proceeded with the presentation he was giving – you missing over half of it. You go to lean into Ghost as his hand was on the back of your chair to realize his hand was still on your thigh. Your body stiffens as Soap leans close to you and whispers in your ear loud enough to where only you and Ghost could hear him, “What’s got you so flustered Lass?” Soap says dangerously low.

               Ghost squeezes your thigh a bit harder as the hand behind you rubbed soft circles on your shoulder. Thank God you all were sitting at the back of the briefing room so no one could see what was going on, but you just knew everyone could feel the tension. It was suffocating.

               “You think something is on her mind Johnny?” Ghost teases on. Your breath hitches in your throat as you just got your answer.

               “Oh, I’m sure LT,” Soap teases back.

               You clear your throat not realizing it was loud enough to stop Price from explaining the mission you didn’t comprehend any of, “Yes Harley?”

               Color drained from your face as you realized all eyes were on you, “C-can I please be excused so I can get some water?” you stutter out.

               “Very well,” Price agreed, “Lets all take a break. Meet back in five”.

               You quickly stand up and b-line for the door – feeling two sets of eyes on you. You quickly powerwalk your way to the cafeteria and into the kitchen. The industrial restaurant stye refrigerators were stocked with bottles of water, you assumed for the kitchen staff. You grab one hoping they wont mind.

               You crack open the seal to the bottle and chug the bottle of water – your head getting a slight headache from the coldness of the water and how hot your body was. You walk over to the stove and place the water bottle on it as your hands grip the sides of the stove. You close your eyes and lower your head. The thoughts of what happened in the briefing room replayed over and over. Ghosts hand on your thigh while Soap wrapped his arm around you from the back of the chair and softly rubbed your shoulder. Them teasing you and making your knees weak – thank God you were sitting down.

               Your body stiffened when you felt a body press against you and their hands finding your waist. “You okay little mouse?” his voice deep and raspy. Ghost. You quickly turn and wrap your arms around his neck as he grabs your ass to pick you up and sets you on the stove – your face almost level with his.  

               You reach at the bottom part of his mask and pull it up just enough it goes over his lips as you quickly press yours to him. A soft moan escaped from your mouth and traveled over to his as he pulled you closer to him. “Simon,” you breathe out breaking the kiss.

               “Yes love?” he replies as he kisses your jaw and makes his way down your neck.

               You arch your back as he hits those sweet spots you love so much, “I really hate to bring this up, but I’m confused on what’s going on with you and Soap.”

               Ghost stills and slowly pulls away from you with lust filled eyes. “I told you, I like when you call me Johnny, Lass.”

               You gasped as he emerged from behind the wall leading into the kitchen. You swallowed hard as you gripped Ghosts arms harder, not knowing you were doing it. Your eyes darted from Ghosts to Soaps – Soaps eyes telling the same thing as Ghosts, lust.

               “I-I don’t understand,” you say softly, slowly shaking your head.

               Ghost reaches up and cups the side of your face, “I know you have been thinking about Johnny these past few days,” he says dangerously low.

               You gulp.

               You go to speak, but Ghost cuts you off, “I know you have been thinking about the both of us these last few days.”

               “Gh-ghost, I-I just want y-you,” you stutter, “I promise.” That last sentence coming out as a whisper.

               Ghost presses his lips to yours, “Its okay,” he says reassuringly.

               You look back and forth between Ghosts eyes to find some sort of falter and found none, “I feel like this is a test.”

               Ghost and Soap both chuckle, “Baby,” Ghost starts, “You have had everyone you love ripped away from you. Let us love you the way you are meant to be loved.”

               You furrow your brows as tears form in your eyes as they dart over to Soap. His eyes are still filled with lust, but now also with the same soft look he gave you the other day when your head was in his lap. “Trust me Harley,” Ghost continued, “Johnny used to be all I had until you came along. You two are all I have,” his voice becoming shaky.

               You swallowed as you had never seen this side of Ghost. The emotional side of Simon Riley.

               “I don’t have any either Lass. Ghost is all I have,” Soap pauses, “unless you’ll have me too.” Soap saw the hesitation and the fear in your eyes as he approached you. “I’m not going to hurt you.” Ghost stepped aside to allow Soap to take his place. You look over to Ghost and see his eyes glassed over. This sent you over the edge as tears spilled down your face. Ghost was opening up and being vulnerable with you, and that meant more to you than anything.

               He had no one. You had no one and Soap had no one, but at the end of the day, you all had each other. “Trust me,” Soap said bringing your eyes back to his ocean blue ones. You sniffled as you closed your eyes and took in a deep breath. You were scared, but deep down you knew that Ghost and Soap would fight until their last breath to keep you safe.

               You opened your eyes to find Soap still between your legs and Ghost leaned against the counter across from you and Soap, his arms crossed over his chest.

               “O-ok,” you go to say but stutter, “O-okay,” finally getting it out, sniffling. Soap wrapped his arms around your waist as you wrapped yours around his neck. He wasn’t as tall as Ghost, so you had to hunch over just a bit. Ghost walked up and kissed you on the top of your head and then walked towards the opening of the kitchen.

               Soap pulled back and grabbed your face as his blue eyes stared into your green ones – creating this teal-colored world. You swallowed hard as he pressed his lips to yours and by instinct, wrapped your arms around his neck deepening the kiss. All air was sucked from your lungs as his tongue danced with yours. This new teal world making your heart flutter.

               Ghost voice made your heart jump out of your chest, “We need to get back to the briefing room.”

               Soap helps you down from the stove and you grab your bottle of water. You walk up to Ghost and wrap your arms around him, “Are you sure this is okay?” you ask not knowing how he was feeling after witnessing you with Soap.

               He leans down and grabs your face, pressing his lips to yours, “I promise love, I’m okay. I have you baby.” You press your lips to his once more before pulling his mask back down as you all head back to the briefing room.

               “I have a question,” you say as you stop turning to look at them both. They looked at each other before cocking their eyebrows back at you.

               “Have um,” you hesitate, “Have you two done anything…like with each other?”

               Soap throws his head back and laughs and Ghost answers before Soap could, “Negative.”

               “Theres nothing wrong with men being with men Lass,” Soap approaches you and gets close to your ear – his hands on your waist, “We just prefer the nice, warm, wet pussy that you are going to share between us.”

               You gasped as you caught a glimmer in Ghost’s eyes that made you swallow hard. “Have you two ever done this before?” you pause briefly to ask better, “Shared a woman?”

               “No baby,” Ghost answers as he starts walking to the doors of the cafeteria. “You are the first.”

               You follow behind him and Soap, watching them as they walk. They both walked with confidence and knowing that they both could snap someone’s head without any remorse - especially over you, sent butterflies deep into your stomach.

               All three of you walked back into the briefing room and sat back in the same seats as before. Ghosts hand gripped your thigh again as Soaps arm snaked around the back of your chair and continued to rub soft circles on your shoulder.

               “Alright, lets make a plan on how we should infiltrate this ‘safe’ house,” Price said quotating ‘safe’.

               And this time, you were ready.

[skullfaced-fruitcake]

TELL ME MORE ABOUT THE MARINE ARCHIVES AU (I'm using the Eyes power to Compell you and it's working)

OKAY SO BASICALLY. I made this AU because of the dumbest pun imaginable, involving Helen and Melanie.

I’ll show the pun at the end of the post.

Under the cut is an assortment of fish character conversions and headcanons. :)

Melanie King: pufferfish.

Helen Distortion: I originally thought of her as an eel, but later on I changed her character to a catfish. Y’know. (as much as the Distortion can be one single species)

Michael Distortion: cuttlefish. They can change their colors/patterns to deceive prey!

Jonah Magnus: Malawi Eyebiter. This one might be self-explanatory, but I think it’s fun to picture little eyebiter Jonah living inside Eel-Elias’s head. speaking of which,

Elias Bouchard: Green Moray Eel. Did you know that green moray eels aren’t even actually green. How fucked up is that.

Jonathan Sims: Cuatros Ojos (Four Eyes). They technically only have two eyes, but their eyes are split so that they can see above and below the surface of the water!! I think they’re neat. They’re also known for refusing to die when they’re outside of the water and exposed to air.

Nikola Orsinov: clownfish. Pretty self-explanatory, I think.

NotThem: octopus. Slimy little bastards who mimic other animals.

Georgie Barker: jellyfish. It just feels right to me.

That’s as far as I’ve gotten with character conversions, but I also have some random headcanons:

During the fisheyepocalypse, holes in coral could be seen to have eyes peeking out of them.

Allegiances between entities are slightly different! For example:

The Dark and the Stranger kinda band together at the bottom of the ocean, and the Vast is extremely powerful.

The Buried has a lot more to do with water pressure, but many statements that would have been related to heavy rain or getting choked on water now have to do with suffocating on air underwater.

The Hunt now obviously has a lot more to do with underwater predators than wolves and things like that above water. They have more power in this fish world.

The Vast also has pretty easy prey, and avatars sometimes take the shape of very large creatures such as blue whales.

The Slaughter is probably not as powerful here, because I don’t know how many fish go to war with each other…

I’m not gonna lie, I didn’t look up spider fish because that sounds like nightmare fuel to me, but I know that they exist. They scuttle around on the floor, and that’s what the Web embodies itself as, instead of regular spiders.

I think that the Extinction might actually be more powerful here, and may have become a fully fledged Fear. Y’know, because of all the plastic, oil, and general trash that’s contaminating the ocean.

The Corruption probably has a similar influence, but maybe a little less potent because of the lack of hive-minded bugs (at least, I think there are no hive-bugs underwater. I don’t really want to look that up).

I think it’d be really funny if the Spiral just worked like normal, and it opened like, mini doors in coral for fish to swim through.

Although I guess in this AU, there needs to be some sort of institute and fish society. So yeah, the Distortion could function pretty similarly to canon TMA.

As for the Lonely, I think that would work pretty similarly (see above), but its famous fog might not work out underwater. Maybe it just makes the water go really still and cold, indicating the absence of other life-forms.

The Eye is one I’m not so sure about, but if we believe the previous (^^) statement, the Eye might function pretty similarly to canon.

Now I’m gonna include the joke that started this off in the first place, but bear in mind that this might be the dumbest thing I’ve ever thought of….

Fish!Helen: What do you call a fish with no eyes? Fish!Melanie: ... Fish!Helen: A fsh! :)

(I’ll tag you because I know that tumblr can be weird about answered asks. @samwise1548 )

[diazpatcher]

7x10 reaction time

the opening scene with Athena 😭

EDDIE CALLED BUCK AND ASKS HIM TONPPEN THE DOOR TO CHRIS 😭😭😭😭

Chris calling the Diaz' I CALLED IT!!!

hen :(

"it's a little true" "even in death she makes your life chaos" "I'm making my life chaos"

Oh Athena 😭 I can't handle it if bobby dies the fact that he has a DNR???? I'm going insane

OH IT WAS AMIR RIGHT? I CALLED IT

the 118 kids meeting each other at the hospital 😭

"he managed to get her to safety before he took a turn" 😭 bobby literally gave his last breath to his wife😭

"I understand it to well. Bc right now the only thing holding me upright is rage." OH Athena 😭 SLAY MAMA "because they last man who came into my home and tried to hurt my family begged me to put it him down"👁👁

"You're one of HIS firefighters"😭

oh god the house is ruined 😭 Athena on a revenge tour?

Polly Martin 🤨 Hmmm

"THIS IS MADDIE HAN" SLAY MAMA

Athena gone rouge btw 🫡 as she should

"I think Athena might be the danger" SLAY

she broke into his house????? omg Athena is of the rails!!!! I love her

it's so so heartbreaking how she was ready to kill for bobby, no hesitation 😭

so if it wasn't Amir who was it 🤔

"being a living testiment to a dead person hardens you" oh. this is all about grief. this entire season is all about grief about how it is more than sadness that it is also anger and denial.

The cartell!!!!! "it's me they want" oh. Amir is so self sacrificial

The 118 watching as bobby almost dies while Athena is a on basically a suicide mission

Amir is actually cool "go ahead and do what ever you plan to do or is your plan to bore me to death?"

"I'm misses Bobby Nash" She says as she sets flames to the Cartells hide out. SLAY MAMA

"This one we both walk out of" SOBBING ACTUALLY

the 133 being the one firehouse who is always there when something happens to the 118

OH GOD IS HE DEAD

OH S

BOBBY

He's.alive 😭😭😭😭 omg

wait. what's the cliffhanger.

The Hans and The Wilson's having dinner together 🫶🫶 family family 🫶 I love them

Tommy and Buck 🥰 "you guys at the 118 should have your own dedicated wing at the hospital" PFFF HE IS SO FUNNY

"BOBBY IS THE FATHER I NEVER HAD" OH BABY THEY FINALLY SAID IT.

B:"so we both have daddy issues" T:"I dont" B:"but you think I do?" T: "God hope so"

Ohh ph "fathers are human, sons don't take it that well"

OH CHRIS , Chris wants to leave 😭 the Diaz' redemption arc?

"your son is trying to tell you whay he needs don't wait 30yrs to hear him"

Athena being so panicked about they're phones 😭 mama such a mama OH MAY 😭 Harry and May being there for their parents❤️ (yes ik Michael lives but he is not here yk)

Chris is actually leaving. "There's summer and then there's Texas. " 😭 lmao buck

Buck fathering once again I love him❤️ "you realize just how messy life can be" okay still no reason to forgive the Buckley parents they suck.

Eddie looks like a kicked puppy also the fact that he keeps calling Buck over is so!!!

The way Eddie hugged Chris😭😭 I wish someone would hug me like that

"I know your angry but i love you no matter. I hate it but i love you." OH "you can always come back, you just say the word and I'll come for you" SOBBING ACTUALLY

the diaz' parents not even hugging him goodbye??? rude tbh

"is buck joining us?" "it's a different sibling"

THEY TOOK HER IN UNTIL HENREN COULD TAKE HER😭😭 THEYRE A FAMILY

oh bobby in the remains of the fire. Amir lmao. like a ghost he appears.

"were not gonna get into who deserves what, that's for a higher power to decide. " "maybe you earned it." Amir finally finally being the one who gives Bobby closure on his past. "You know you can't quit right?" "you think you do or you know you do🤨"

Amir im sorry I misjudged you he is actually the funniest man alive.

Wait is the cliffhanger the opening disaster for s8???

Oh no. "No captain Wilson" BOBBY ❤️

Gerard you whore. piss off. no no no no no.

THATS THE CLIFFHANGER? its just horrible

[azlovesem]

Here you sll are again. Emma Emma dhow us your underwead. Emma smole Emma scowl Emma cry for us. Ha ha ha. I dont how you put up with those losers. So you wre in s movie i live ypu i sk t runnin over to your door like a monkey asx fool sceamong shit at you. Ha ha ha. Id roll down the window and open fire. Bunch of tunner neckn fuckn…i mean your fans ate bery dedicated nothing a claymore mine couldnt handle. Throw them cheap halloween candy. That ghastly chewy fuckn yucky toffee and watch them scamble for it. We ll vherish whayever you toss at us rudely. Nooo Emmas nice to her fsns and a sweetie. Its me thats the ashole writing this. But i still dont know wtf is wrong with people. I still get calls. The one percenter orfanization i used to belong to considera most people not even conscious and should be trwated like dead meat. Citizens which was an insult we called them. Theres no one more pathetic than citizens and what not. But that not true. Turned out all of them we re just as pathetic as citizens in other ways they arent. Most good people know somwthinb serious is wrong and would like to see a fairer worrld. Good luck. Look how bad i beat those dip shot americans up and how i talkh about em speako g of pathetic i led the order not some eeak gooc dat tvvamericsn. They font look as tough anynore after scrspling ne Emma ha ha hs m the fuckn man no wonder uou find me attractive. Nah not ine theud shiver with fear if they even saw me. But i have amerrican order friends but im yhe boss making yhrm as you can tell srcond fuckn fidfle. Nit one of ghem Emma can stand up and outshjne me. Not a sir Paul either that guys a lil scared of me good. Ha ha ha i wont get into ot. I know things no l e does Emma but i dont really go jnyo deatail thats between thise people and God and no k es perfect. But no kne and i mean no ok e is even ose to being able to take me on in any asy. Besides i like the beatles but God said beat evetyone up. And with Gabriel And Michael i did. Id say with so e of my lines im the funniest fuckef on earth. BeIns Nraun and my sense of himour a Lethal combination not one american could rvee overcome. How ya doin tarantino? Im mire like clint wastwoid from the good the bad and the ugly ghe. Eastwood himsrlf is. Ha ha ga ahhhh ha american. You maje me laugh see ta in the funny pages monkey.ya made two great movies so what. Digs and beoen sll others ate watch knce firgeg movies. All of them. They face you an award cause they forgot to for dogs dumby. Youre not as good as Elmore Leonard of a writer without him you eouldnt even sxist. Not even clise nit even dont evrn say it ill kill uou punk los sngeles bitch.hows wei stein sojn.npt foe lobg mofo im goin to psy him s vidir holyyeodd. Didfys days are nimbeted too. No he diesnt maje it to trial. Wei strin never gets put. Because i fuckn said do quentin.

[bella-goths-wife]

hii idk if requests were open or not but i was wondering if you could possibly do slashers with a french s/o ??

Slashers with French S/O

Michael Myers

You were in America for a cousins wedding and you were staying in a local motel

Michael had not killed anyone in a week so he decided to go into the motel to make up for lost time

You were just coming out of the shower and you were covered with a towel when you walked into your room and found a random man in you room

Cue angry French sounds

“qu'est-ce que tu fous tu ne peux pas être ici imbécile” (what are you doing in here you can’t be in here you fool)

He was intrigued but found himself annoyed when you shoved him outside of the room and locked the door yet he could still hear you yelling

You come back in clothes and in attempt to get an apology but Michael just picks you up and takes you back the Myers house

And that kids is how I met your mother

You started dating after a while and you drive him insane

Whenever your in an argument you shout at him in French which he obviously can’t understand so he just walks out the door

Does find it funny when you mistake an English word for French

Bo Sinclair

You were touring America with a group of other French people

When you reached Ambrose Bo saw you all as sitting ducks so he offered to give you a tour

He made comments about how the French should “speak a less confusing language” to which you responded

“les américains stupides pensent toujours qu'ils savent mieux que les gens de notre pays” (stupid Americans think they know better than the people actually from our country)

He didn’t understand what you said but judging from the others laughs he knew it wasn’t good

So when he kills off the rest of your group he gives you the excuse that they left you in Ambrose

You both eventually grow closer after a lot of arguments so he decided to keep you around for a while

While dating him you try and teach him some French but it turned out like in friends when phoebe tries to teach joey French

He won’t admit it but he actually enjoys watching the French romances you out on, with subtitles obviously

Vincent Sinclair

You were an art major and you wanted to explore America and see all of its art

When you reach the house of wax Vincent is watching you and when you meet him you say one thing to him

“êtes-vous l'artiste? tes figures de cire sont une oeuvre d'art” (are you the artist? Your wax figures are a work of art)

You quickly repeat in English and he blushes under his mask

You quickly bond over your love of art

When he finds out you paint as well it becomes the hobby you do together

Your art is displayed in the house of wax no matter if it’s amazing or terrible

After you start dating he makes a figure that looks exactly like a girl you saw come into the town a few days ago so you wanted Vincent to make a figure of you as well

He quickly refused and just told you that he doesn’t want to insult you if the works bad, definitely not because the process would put you in extreme pain and kill you

Thomas Hewitt

Your car broke down in front of the Hewitts home so you knocked on the door and asked for help

Luda may was already charmed by your accent and called it “beautiful”

When you met Thomas Luda may asked to say something in French to him

So you said

“tu es très beau et fort” (you are very handsome and strong)

When you explain what you said to Luda may she’s practically planning the wedding

You spend the night with the Hewitts and you and Thomas quickly bond

He adores when you cook food from you country for the family dinners

Granted he’ll never tell you what kind of meat is in the freezer

Asa Emory

He was your college professor after you moved to America to get a better education in your chosen field

There was a small language barrier between you and your classmates which always left you feeling isolated

But asa actually spoke French so you saw him as your escape

His need to take you stemmed from one thing you said to him

“au moins les rumeurs sont vraies sur l'Amérique. tous les professeurs sont beaux” (al least the rumours about America are true. All the teachers are handsome)

This prompted asa to take you, not to torture you but to treat you like pet

You develop Stockholm syndrome pretty quickly after you already trusted the man

He tries to teach you more English but understands if you feel more comfortable speaking in French

Tiffany valentine

You had met while Tiffany was in doll form, she was accidentally shipped to France because she resembles an old doll brand

You bought her at the antique store and she quickly became obsessed with you

So when she snuck off and transferred her soul into Jennifer tillys body she quickly returned for you

She asked you on a date and you excepted

She resembled a doll you had lost so you called her “ma petite poupée” (my little dolly)

She would adore if you baked for her and made traditional French dishes for here

You show her French fashion and teach her some French so she understands basic phrases and some swear words

She even moves to France to be with you and wants to get to know the French lifestyle a lot more

Hopefully that ginger doll fucker won’t find her in France

Jason voorhees

You had gotten lost when you were looking for a different campsite but ended up at Jason’s

He was going to originally kill you off but after hearing your accent he would remember those French films his mother would watch and you brought some nostalgia back for him

But when you said this phrase that’s when he fell in love with you

“ce camping est très beau comme vous” (this campsite is very beautiful just like you)

He loves listening to you talk, even if he can’t understand it

He just finds your voice and accent so soothing for him and he will sit there for hours on end reacting to a story he doesn’t actually understand

Baby firefly

You met when you were studying abroad, you were studying American fashion and origins of traditional wear

She found you in some seedy bar and the first thing you said to her was

“Es-tu un ange” (are you an angel)

You found her stunning and she found you to be the most intoxicating sound in the world

She took you on a date and you quickly bonded over your love for fashion

She wants to know everything about French fashion and asks you every question in the book

She’ll sometimes use phrases you’ve said to drive Otis up the wall

Otis driftwood

You met in a run down bar after you were thrown out for being “too aggressive”

You weren’t being aggressive the bar owner just didn’t like that you were French

Otis thought you would be an easy victim so he started talking to you

You said to him “éloigne toi sale pervers” (get away you dirty pervert)

He kidnaps you but you quickly fall head over heels for each other after a heavy make out session that came from an aggressive argument

Want to drive him crazy in bed? Start speaking French he finds it so sexy

Any other scenario it just annoys him

You would constantly swear at him in French

This and your asthma earned you the nickname “my French bulldog) which he only gave you to piss you off

[myers-meadow]

Michael Myers x ofc/you

Title: Care for me, part 1.

Part two here

Part three here

Part four here

Part five (final) here

Warnings: therapy, obsessive behaviour. References to past murder.

Contents: Rob Zombie's Michael Myers in Smith's Grove meets a new therapist with unconventional ideas. Over 3k words. Michael x you/ Michael x ofc. 'You' have a name, since i find y/n somewhat awkward for longer fics.

I am also proud to say that this fic is heavily inspired by Michel Foucault's ideas on power difference and how this comes into play in the anti-psychiatry theories. Also: 80s fashion. I'd love to have feedback on this, since i choose a very particular, somewhat fragmented writing style (it is what i immensly enjoy).

Routine. That was what defined his life at Smith’s Grove. And Loomis’ voice, somehow. The waiting was long, but Michael was patient. One day, a Tuesday no less, something new happened.

Loomis had brought someone else with him on his daily visit. You, a young woman, with supple step and a relaxed posture. Behind his mask, his eyes followed you with apt curiosity.

“Michael, hello, today our session will be different. As you can see, there is someone new to help you. I have asked her to take over for me once a week.”

“Hello, how wonderful to meet you, my name is Marion van Doorn.” You made no move to shake his hand, not expecting him to even accept.

Loomis continued. “She is specialised in some, well, unconventional forms of therapy that have proved very helpful for several other patients that have been treated here. I will leave you to it, y/n.” And briskly, Loomis left the cell.

“Bye, doctor, meet you at lunch.” You called after him, then turned your attention to Michael. His gaze was unsettling in its unseen intensity. “Alright, I will explain my methods.”

You crossed your legs and leaned forward, not keeping your posture open as the other professionals did. “I am not a doctor like Dr. Loomis or any of the nurses who may have treated you. I’ve heard bits about you from Dr. Loomis, but was frankly unsatisfied with the data in his reports on you.” Your voice showed obvious displeasure. “All of it was focused on getting you to speak, to communicate, in order to treat you. It’s just data, things they can write down, right? Words. But I think, that if we listen, really listen, then we can go past ‘words’ and towards understanding. And if I look around me,” you gestured to the room, plastered in masks, and then returning your eyes to his with a genuine smile, “it seems like you are already communicating plenty.”

.・*・.・*・.・*・.・*・.

And so it started. Loomis seemed impressed with you and the way you were able to connect with your patient. And when you were gone, there was gossip in the hallways.

“And she’s so young, too. Do you think she can handle him?”

“You heard what he did to the other nurse all those years ago – it’s only a matter of time with those methods of her.”

“Calling them methods is rather generous, don’t you think?”

.・*・.・*・.・*・.・*・.

Next Tuesday, second session. You sat down in front of him, the door to his cell partly opened as a safety measure. Guards outside.

Michael once again noted the absence of a clipboard, you did not carry anything but a tweed blazer over your arm. The weather must be getting colder again.

“Hello again Michael.” You started, gentle smile, making eye contact, relaxed, informal posture. “Last time we met I explained some things, but from today onwards I would like to put some things into practice if you’d like.”

Silence, but you didn’t seem to mind. His eyes never left yours, sharp behind the mask. He chose a funny one today, white with black, crude lines.

“I’m not looking for results, see it more as exercise. Dr. Loomis values routine as a cornerstone of therapy, of building a stable life and that makes a stable individual. You’ve probably noticed; lunch is at the same time each day and lasts exactly forty-five minutes, two hours a day in the recreation room at two, and so on… I’m not saying he is wrong, but he is. For me, agency is what makes the difference. If you cannot choose what to do when, not able to do as you feel like doing things, you cannot build a trust in yourself to stand on your own feet. People who are here, can rarely choose things for themselves. So, I’ve taken the liberty to bully Dr. Loomis until he gave in and let you choose a part of your daily activities. Your sessions with Dr. Loomis will still happen at the same time every day, and there is a limit to how much time you can spend on some activities, but I hope having the choice will make things a little lighter. Please let me know if any guards or nurses give you trouble and I’ll make sure your wishes are honoured.”

Michael never answered, just looked at you with intelligent eyes. Somehow it reminded you of the raptors in the Jurassic Park films. The kind of attention that would be incredible from any other patient, but from him it made your skin prickle.

“Alright, that is all. Then have a great week!”

He watched as you closed the door softly behind you.

.・*・.・*・.・*・.・*・.

You did not show up that next week on Tuesday. Dr. Loomis was unable to take over the session on such short notice – Michael overheard staff: called in sick with barely half an hour notice. It left him with time to fill, to think and think some more while working on another mask.

.・*・.・*・.・*・.・*・.

Wednesday. With little notice, guards pulled Michael from his cell. He had walked these depressing corridors so often, but the longer they kept him walking, the less he knew where they were headed. Past the recreation room, past the courtyard, past the lunchroom. Eventually they passed another locked gate that brought them to the front of the building, just near the entrance. This was not part of the sanitorium that he visited often. The visiting area was the destination.

“There ya go, someone’s here to see you, you bastard,” said one of the guards, giving him a shove that barely moved the large man.

He stepped in quietly. A few visitors sat by the windows, a few by the door, causing a soft chatter to echo throughout the room. And for him, in the corner, sat you. You waved him over, standing to make him notice you.

With mean smirks, the guards moved to fasten his chains to the table.

“No, no thank you, that won’t be necessary,” you interrupted, holding up your ID. And in a kinder tone, to him: “Good afternoon, Michael.”

He sat down, not being able to help the tiniest twinge of a smile underneath his mask. The absurdity of having a visitor, after not seeing anyone he knew outside of this place was… something. And how you seemed to trust him, with a body and a humanity so fragile.

“I hope you don’t mind my little stunt – but that is the thing with spontaneity, isn’t it?” you grinned. “How have you been this past week? Have you had fun with the new freedom?”

Then you propped your bag on the table, reaching inside. “I can’t stay long, but I wanted to give you this.” You got out a journal, with bulky pages. Michael’s massive hands took it from you as you slid it over the table to him.

“This is my art journal. Frankly it’s just something that I do to for fun, it has whatever I feel like; some drawings, collage, my failed attempts at learning water colour… If it’s of no interest to you, please give it back next week.” You leaned forward on the table, your gaze penetrating his, as if his mask was not even there. “Be careful with it too, and please don’t tell Dr. Loomis. He would not approve.”

You stood up and while you passed him, you halted, mischievous smile. “I marked the pages with nudes on them by folding the corners. It was very nice to see you again, have a lovely week.”

.・*・.・*・.・*・.・*・.

Back in his cell, it took Michael a few moments to realise what had just happened – what was still happening. The A5 journal was clasped tightly in his hands. He had not wanted to the guards to catch sight of it, had hid it as best he could in his robe.

He left it untouched for several days, debating to look in it or not. It seemed so personal. Seemed to break too many patient-therapist boundaries. He kept it inside his pillowcase, since there were not many hiding spots in the cell.

Saturday was the day he found his curiosity outweighed his complicated thoughts. He skipped recreation hour to leaf through the journal instead. Indeed, its contents varied wildly. Some pages were clearly unfinished, a few torn out, others scratched or painted over. Some entries were dated. Next to the botanical studies were the foreign names of the plants, must be your native language. True to your word, the pages with nude figures, mostly ink drawings, were dog-eared. A few of those even showed a pair together, of varying genders. The chaotic ink lines suggested movement and passion.

With a snap, he closed the journal. Why had you given him this?

It was after a night’s sleep, that he looked through it once more. You were right, this was unprofessional and Loomis would probably terminate the sessions if he knew. Having looked through most pages now, Michael found about a dozen empty pages at the end of the journal. Were you still using this? Then why would you part with it?

.・*・.・*・.・*・.・*・.

“Michael, nice to see you so busy this early in the morning. The guards said you were drawing. Is that going to be a new hobby for you?” Loomis was back for his daily meeting. He bent over Michael’s desk, looking at the papers scattered over it. Drawings. The remainders of a mask he had not yet finished. Underneath the papers; paint stains. As always, Michael did not respond, not even to look at the doctor.

“Ah, I see, you’ve drawn…” Loomis’ voice caught in his throat as he picked up one of the sheets. “You’ve drawn Marion.”

.・*・.・*・.・*・.・*・.

You were called in and came the next morning, early, which happened to be Tuesday regardless. Loomis accompanied you to Michael’s cell to speak with you. The doctor had not explained much, only that you had to come and see what had happened. The excitement in his voice somewhat unsettled you, and at the same time you were glad, even proud, to hear your methods had had some effect on the patient.

“He has taken up a new hobby,” said Loomis during the speed-walk through the bland corridors. The door to the cell was already opened by the guards who saw the two of you approaching hastily.

“Good morning, Michael,” Loomis continued. “I hope it is okay, but I thought Marion might like to see your new drawings.”

Michael’s eyes were on you from the moment you entered. You went over to the desk, gestured there by Loomis.

“Ah, drawings, I see. They’re very good,” you said, clearly impressed. Then you spotted it, a portrait of you. And another. Different angles, different expressions. Is this what you look like to him? They were not perfectly realistic, but it was certainly you; you recognize all your distinct features. Beneath those there were more, most were not finished. You could only stare, surprised.

“Is that me?” and you point to yourself with a small finger.

His eyes meet yours and he nods once. That moment of eye contact stretches on, as scribbles from Loomis’ pencil on his clipboard were heard. Feeling flustered, you gather the papers and stack them in piles, unable to look away from the large man for long. With a pull at the collar of your blouse, you sit down next to Dr. Loomis in front of Michael again.

“I must say this is a very interesting development,” starts the doctor again. “Michael, is there a reason you have drawn your new therapist? Do you perhaps… like her?”

Your eyes shot to the doctor, disbelief. “I can imagine it being nice to have some more freedom and more informal interactions.”

“Informal? What are you referring to?”

You gesture to yourself. “No uniform, no clipboard, no questions. I’ve not even read his file.”

Michael watched the two of you bicker.

Dr. Loomis holds up a finger at your words. “You have not- you haven’t read his file?”

“Nor your book. The blurb was enlightening enough.”

Confusion fills the doctors features. “But you said- Your methods of…”

You shrug, turning your gaze to Michael instead. “Should we continue the session?”

He continues, temper rising. “So when you said that you disagreed with my methods, you did not even know my methods?”

“Oh, I do, Samuel. I fail to understand how looking a child in his eyes and declaring him evil incarnate would help any situation. How old was he again?” your tone was sharper, eyebrows raised. Michael saw the glint in your eyes, the weight of your words.

“You do not know how things went down all those years ago. You do not know what I have seen.” Loomis hissed. Inwardly you cursed yourself. There was no way saying something so accusatory would lead anywhere.

You sigh. “I’m sorry, that was harsh. If you want to discuss this, let’s do so later.”

It was almost as if you and Loomis were his parents; fighting about him as if he wouldn’t hear you from the other room.

There was also something calculating in Loomis’ stare. “As you wish.”

Then silence, during which you looked at Michael’s hulking form opposite of you. It seemed nothing affected him. Yet he was following every word, noticing every change in expression and tone.

The doctor cleared his throat. “So, Michael, how are you today? Is there anything you wish for us to know?”

Silence.

Since you decided the awkwardness was too much, you stood up, putting on your blazer. “Thank you for letting me see your drawings, Michael. You are very skilled, excellent eye for detail. I will be back again next Tuesday. Have a nice day, the both of you.”

.・*・.・*・.・*・.・*・.

The Tuesday after that, you came for your agreed upon session. Something felt different. The guards seemed to tense at the sight of you, rather than greet you as warmly as before. Loomis had dragged his feet over your methods, wanting to keep to his original schedule for Michael’s day, but you told him it could never hurt to try it out for a while. For long enough to notice changes. He relented in the end. The damage control you had to do did not sit well with you, but you kept your eyes on your goal: to help patients.

“Morning, Michael,” you stepped in the cell, keeping the door halfway open as was agreed. Immediately your eyes were drawn to the walls of the cell. They used to be covered in paper mache masks, but were now a part was replaced with drawings. Of you. The artist of the drawings was standing instead of his normal hulking position on the bed. You had not seen him standing often before, and the immense size of him was almost enough to drop your confident tone. He was looking at you, head raised. He wore an orange mask that looked vaguely like a pumpkin, with a wide jagged grin.

“How have you been doing? I know I’ve said it before, but let me know if anything interferes with your afternoons.”

The man remained silent, as usual. What was not as usual, was that he moved. Towards you, to be precise. Caught of guard, you instinctively took a step back. Then stopped yourself, even though he had taken a second step, covering more ground than you had.

To fill the awkwardness, you resumed talking. “I’m sorry about last week. It was unnecessary and I have apologized to Dr. Loomis.”

You thought that Michael was heading to his cot to sit down, so you intended to let him pas. Yet that didn’t happen, and now he was much too close for comfort. He smelled of soap and something manly, and of glue.

Looking up at him was intimidating. The need to put space between you was overbearing, so you stepped back, and stepped back until your hands felt the door behind your back. Do you need to act? Leave? Notify the guards?

That choice was taken from you not even a second after you had registered the thoughts, as Michael pressed the door firmly closed, almost soundlessly, with a hand next to your upper arm. Your breath hitched. Then that same hand touched your arm, as you lifted it to press against his chest – to stop him from coming ever closer.

“What is it?” you asked, mouth dry. You licked your lips. “You are… very tall.”

The feel of him against your hand: warm, you could feel his heart beat steady, and it pressed your elbow against the door. The fabric he wore was thin, soft.

Then the guards noticed. A quick rapping on the door. “Ms. Van Doorn, are you in there? Are you alright?”

“Yes! Yes, everything is fine,” you called out, turning your head to the side. Breathing seemed difficult so close to him. His hand covered the one on his chest, warm, large. When you looked back at him, his other hand was at your cheek. His eyes were something fierce, searching your face. How far could he push you? Thumb brushed your lip. Moved down to your neck, pressing lightly, then the thumb returned to rest against your bottom lip. Unsure of what to do, lips fell open just slightly, which was enough. The finger moved in between your teeth, and you let it in, too late now, just to stop its advance by pressing your teeth to his nail.

“We need to open the door,” called one of the guards. The knob jiggled. The hand on your arm quickly returned to press above it, stopping it from opening. “That is procedure, ma’am, or we will have to call for back up and assume the worst.”

A light squeeze against your throat made your eyes flutter shut, before regaining your senses. “Yes, of course,” keeping your tone as neutral as you could. Then, as if nothing happened, Michael stepped away. The door opened, bumping you in the back, and the guards escorted you out. You were unable to answer their questions.

.・*・.・*・.・*・.・*・.

When you returned to your car, shaky legs, your hands found not only your keys in the pocket of your blazer, but also a folded drawing. Its edges were torn and it was barely A5 size. You sat down behind the wheel, glad to be no longer standing, before looking at it. It depicted you, but not just you. It was you, held by the throat, eyes closed, head fallen back (some mistakes in perspective here), and a much larger figure pushing one of your legs up around his waist, cut off by the end of the scrap of paper. The large figure was undoubtedly Michael, with his long hair. Your hand was on his shoulder. Was this your death? Is this what was going to happen back there? His hand had not been rough, but it had left a ghost in its wake that you could still feel. You drove home with your own hand pressed below your adam’s apple.

It was at home you realised he was probably not hungry for murder.

[po1songore]

Okay but like...

Micheal Afton x reader (AFAB but they/them)

Cockwarming Mike while he is working (at any location) then yn gets needy-

Thing is... The animatronics were watching (unintentionally) and just like went "fuck this shit I'm out"

Degrading breeding kinks. Kinda humiliation

(maybe a fluffy like funny moment of getting caught or maybe they are caught after the fucking concludes-)

Can I be 🐮 Anon?

Thanks!

-🐮

yes you can !!

no but, it was painful. you have been here for so many hours and the past twenty minutes consisted of you having michael inside you. he was sitting on the chair ,not giving even bothering as if nothing was happening ,watching the cameras while you were trying your best not to cum from feeling him hard and twitching for this entire time.at this point you were desperate for him and you couldn't wait a minute more ..

grinding back and forth on his lap while cowgirl/cowboying him, you whined a bit when he stopped you by putting his hands on your thighs.

"please mikey~i can't take it anymore.."

"don't be impatient now, we have a job to do."

"no, you have a job to do, i dont.please, i can't handle it more~"you whined and grinded more against him, feeling his dick hard inside you was enough to send you into madness.

"at least wait until five."

"five?thats ten whole minutes from now.."

"its just ten minutes baby."

you soon put on your little usual pout and tugged on his collar and then tie, beginning to hop up and down his cock slowly , going high enough so the tip would almost be all exposed, before sitting back down.

"please~i want your cum inside me so bad."

"close the doors."

you did as told, reaching on both sides and closing them. once that was done you were lifted up ,michael put his hands on your ass and placed you on the desk, knocking stuff down as his lips met yours in a needy and passionate way. your hands undid his tie and collar and his undid your shirt buttons, little gasps and moans between you two. soon enough you felt him thrusting inside of you harshly,and small groans leaving him with every thrust.

"open your legs more.you couldn't even wait ten minutes for this?"

"n-no..ahh~i- i need you to fill me up."

"does my little slut want to be filled up with my cum?yeah?"

"yes pleas-se.."

his thrusting became harder and more sudden , as his lips met yours again.you could fill his fingers dive dip in your skin, your thighs were definitely going to have small bruises after this.he probably didn't even realize how hard he was grasping onto you, but you did the same, your fingers had dived on his back beneath his shirt that was now opened, leaving small scratches behind.

soon his hand moved to your clit, rubbing it with the perfect horizontal and vertical motion to make your thighs shake like crazy.you could feel and well, hear from the sloppy sounds, you getting wet around his cock.

"mmhm~mikey i-i will cum i cant.."

"what?you made me get up and fuck you just to cum so fast?are you really that desperate?"he said flashing you a little grin right against your lips before making his hand work faster, yet fucking you with the same pace.

"im s-sorry i~fuck..i need you to cum inside of me now pl-please.."you said between little moans as your thighs shook more and more from overstimulation, your hands softly pulling on his hair now.

"fine, you better keep it all inside you, i dont want a drop dripping out.."

and with that you felt yourself finally allowed to cum, hot moans and breaths from both of you filled the room. his hand worked wonders on your clit as you felt yourself drip on the desk, and his cum filling you up.

"its so warm inside of me." You whined out.

he kissed you the entire time he came, lips only parting to let out small heavy gasps.

"good job, not a drop left."

extra.

once you finished you soon turned to look at the time only to get startled from the sight on the glass window. all four animatronics having a more terrifying expression than ever, you could have swore foxy's jaw was ready to fall off.

all three male animatronics reached to cover the eyes of the chicken then as you and mike stood without a word to say."lets go chica this isnt family friendly anymore-"

[peakyoak]

This Dark Disposition: Chapter 34 - Michael

Chapter 34 - Michael

The Next Morning

“It's for your own good Danny, and the baby’s,” Tommy said as he leaned against the fireplace mantel in their bedroom with a cigarette in his hand.

“It's a little ridiculous is what it is,” Danny said as she pulled up her tights and continued to get dressed.

“Look, all it will be is Dave and Steven, I’ve hired them particularly because I know they’re good at their jobs and they won’t bother you.” As he talked he motioned with the hand that was holding the cigarette, “I’ve also put two men on the house to watch when Dave and Steven are gone.”

“I knew it was more than just Dave and Steven, you should have led with that because now I think it's all ridiculous, four men Tommy, really?” Danielle said as she put on her shoes and then stood up from where she was sitting on the bed. 

“Love, I know you don’t want this, but I’m not really asking,” Tommy walked over and put his hands on Danielle’s arms. For a second she could smell his cologne and she felt her body melt into his as she leaned into him and put her head on his chest, “This London business is dangerous, we know that. And so long as you have my child inside of you, you’ll be protected.”

Danielle rolled her eyes, “I’m not going to stop working, Tommy.”

Tommy wasn’t very fond of the idea, “Danny.”

“It's what I want,” Danielle said as she pulled away from him to look him in the eyes, “if you’re going to make me be followed by two men at all times.”

Tommy raised his eyebrow at her, “Are you trying to make a deal with me, eh?”

“Unless you’re going to chain me to this house, I’m going to be working. You can either have me do it unknowingly against your wishes, with no protection, or knowingly and with protection.”

He kissed her on the lips, “With protection it is then, eh,” he said as he walked towards the door. Before he left the room he turned back to look at her, “But so we’re clear, chaining you to the house is still on the table.” 

Danielle grabbed her hat and followed him down the stairs, “You know, you’re really not as funny as you think you are.”

When they stepped out onto the street Dave and Steven were already on the walkway, “Hello boys,” Tommy said as he shook both of their hands and gave them money.

“Tommy we just talked about it, how are they already here?” Danielle said to him somewhat annoyed as she followed him across the street.

“Like I said, I wasn’t asking, I was telling,” he opened the door to the Shelby house and held it for her to pass through. 

When she stepped into the house she paused in the doorway. Tommy wasn’t sure what made her pause until he came up behind her and saw Polly sitting at the table with a young man who had dirty blonde hair. Polly was sitting at the table pouring the boy tea. Immediately Danielle knew this must be Micheal; he was about James’ age, he had a clean looking suit on, and a clear face.

Tommy walked around Danielle with a smile on his face, “Micheal, it's good to see you.”

Danielle walked around the table to join Tommy, “Micheal, this is my fiancé, Miss Virtue.”

“Call me Danielle,” she said as she shook the boy's hand. Danielle looked at Polly and for the first time in a long time, Polly looked like she was genuinely happy.

Suddenly the door flew open and hit the wall and John and Arthur galavanted into the room with their guns drawn and pointed at one another, “bam you’re dead, John,” Arthur said before Danielle cleared her throat to get his attention and he saw the boy standing in the room and stopped what he was doing.

“Right then,” Arthur said as he tucked his gun into its holster and looked at Tommy and Danielle, “Who’s this?”

“Gentleman,” Tommy said as he nodded his head, “This is your cousin, Polly’s son, Micheal”

Micheal walked around the table to shake their hands, “I’m Arthur you already met me I used to throw you out the window so John could catch you,” Arthur said as his voice got softer and his tone became more sullen.

John’s voice did the same, “I used to put you in a shoe box and kick you down Watery Lane.”

“I’ll bet you’re glad to be back,” Danielle said.

“I don’t remember any of it,” Micheal said with a slight laugh, “All I remember is the day they took me away.”

Danielle moved to Polly and put her hand on the matriarch’s back, “I’m very happy for you Pol.”

Polly smiled at her and then walked over to Micheal and hugged him. 

“Well you’re here now son,” Tommy said as he patted Micheal’s back, “Welcome to the Shelby family.”

With that the boys passed through to the betting den, leaving the two women and Micheal standing in the kitchen, “Micheal,” Polly spoke gently, “Will you excuse me and Danielle for just a moment.”

“Of course,” the boy said as he nodded his head.

The two ladies walked into the betting den and slowly closed the door, “Danielle, I owe you an apology.”

Danielle hugged Polly, “It's okay, Pol. It's alright. You did what you had to do to get your son back.” She pulled away from Polly’s embrace, “You should take some time and spend it with him. When you return we’ll introduce him to James so he stays out of trouble, eh?”

Polly nodded her head and smiled, “I think he’d like that.”

Later That Night

Danielle walked up the stairs and into Tommy’s office after she closed up the betting shop, “Did you tell him to go home?”

“I tried,” Tommy said from behind his desk as he put down the paper he was looking at, “He won’t go. He says that if he stays in that village any longer he’ll blow it to pieces.

Danielle walked around his desk and kissed Tommy before taking a seat across from him, “Is that so?”

“It's what he said,” Tommy said as he leaned back, “There’s something else we need to talk about.” 

“Well go on with it,” Danielle said as she crossed her legs.

“Tomorrow, I’m going to Camden Town with Billy Kitchen to give Alfie the men you promised,” Tommy said and Danielle tried to read his expression.

“I’m coming with you,” Danielle said coldly and she watched Tommy clench his jaw.

“No you’re not,” Tommy said as he stood from his chair, “This isn’t up for discussion.”

“If you don’t bring me with you, you risk the alliance falling apart and we both know that we need Solomons on our side, right?” Danielle explained as Tommy walked around his desk and leaned his back against it in front of where she was sitting, “You know I’m right.”

He put his hands on the arms of her chair and leaned over her “You think you can just come in here, make whatever demands you have and get your way,” Tommy whispered in her ear. 

Danielle locked her eyes onto his and refused to look away, “I’d say I have a pretty high success rate.”

For what felt like a full minute they stared at one another and neither said anything. Then, just as Danielle was starting to think of another witty remark Tommy shoved his lips against hers. She kissed him back and after a couple of seconds he drew back, “I know how to shut you up when I need to.” He looked her in the eyes again and as he did so he moved the hem of her skirt over her thighs and put his hand on her inner thigh, “And I also know how to keep you talking.” He moved his hand further up her leg until it was between her legs and Danielle felt her body swoon. Maybe it was the hormones, but she wanted nothing more than to feel him inside of her as soon as possible. She tried to remain calm and not let him see that what he was doing was working, “Or in some special circumstances, begging.” Tommy said as he took his hand away.

She didn’t break eye contact with him and after a few seconds he put his hand out in front of her and Danielle took it. He helped her from her chair and she felt his hand on her lower back. He opened the door to his office and stepped aside so she could pass through. As she passed Lizzie and walked towards the stairs Tommy kept his hand on her back, “Lizzie, lock up please I have some business to attend to at home. And clear my schedule for tomorrow. We’re going to Camden Town.” As she walked down the stairs Danielle swore she heard Lizzie scoff.

[daadddysprincessss]

that’s impossible (this is a repost from my old blog)

pairings: y/n x jim mason x stepbro michael langdon

summary: you’ve been having weird, even daring dream about your stepbrother michael, but how could you think this way when your madly in love with Jim Mason ...? maybe it was the way michael made you feel - constantly on the edge of your seat and stressed ? or maybe it’s the way his eye dragged you in wanting more ??

little things: anything in italic is dreams !

warnings: stepbrother (which IS NOT related by blood)

i think im in love with my stepbro,

‘no, im in love with jim mason’ - you cant tell me otherwise i spoke to myself softly.

‘Eventually everything fades, even the brightest colours turns to grey’ - jims name melted into michael - but how?  you loved everything about jim - those ocean blue eyes that pull you into the deep end, his soft smile that makes you feel an instant comfort, and his hair - ugh those soft chocolate brown curls, his hair always smelt like salt water; but then there was his darkside, everything you hated but learned to love. tell me how michael crept into my mind, hes just such - ugh an arrogant asshole, the way he struts around the house thinking he owned the place, and the way hed deepen his eyes when you were talking to him - making it seem as if you owed him something, but then his blonde shaggy hair - you would think he was a laid back surfer, but no he was a douchey little fuck boy who would use any girl in a heart beat. michael did have a soft side (somewhat) - like at dinner with your parents he was so sweet with the soft glances and cheerful smiles - WHY AM I THINKING ABOUT MICHAEL HES YOUR STEPBROTHER YOU NEED TO STOP

“fuck fuck fuck” you screamed into your pillow - you were stressed and upset with yourself. “i cant do this anymore - i just cant.”

“cant do what?” Michael laughed - when the fuck did he get here - his tall lean body was leaning against your door frame with his arms crossed -

“excuse me? why would you even come in here?” you spat at him

“you sounded upset and it seemed funny” he smiled - 

ugh that devilish grin, yet it was so fucking hot - “its not funny but thanks, can you just fuck off please” you stood up and shot towards the door - you lifted your hand to slam the door but michael grabbed your wrist -

“now now, dont make daddy discipline you” michael snarled at you - his grip tightened on your hand 

“let go -” you pulled your hand away and rubbed your wrist - “goodbye michael” - you spoke sharply before slamming the door.

you grunted loudly and spun around - “boo” michael laughed in your face when you turned around

“HOW-” michaels lips collided with yours - 

“y/n” your mum touch your shoulder softly - “your gonna be late for your first day of college - come on, wake up sweetie”

your eyes shot open as your heart raced “what the fuck” you said breathlessly - “it was a dream?” you spoke softly

“what was a dream sweetheart” Michael stood at your door eyeing you up as your mum walked past him 

“nothing - please leave michael.” you shot out of bed and slammed the door. your heart was pounding, you were sweating “disgusting” you spoke softly to yourself. *buzz buzz* your phone light up - “jim!” you ran over to your phone 

“jimmy” you practically yelled

“cuddlefish - are you still able to pick me up for class, i was just getting worried cause i havent heard from you yet.” 

“fuck what time is it ?” you looked at your screen “we have 30 minutes jimmy, lots of time” - 

“haha okay, ill be waiting for you babe” 

“love youuuuuu” you sang to jim - you quickly hung up the phone and got ready. you grabbed jims hoodie and threw it on with your favourite pair of shorts - your hair was thrown into a messy yet slightly styled bun. you quickly ran down the stairs grabbed your bag with your books and headed out the door - there he was- “what do you want michael”

there he stood, tall, lean, shaggy golden blonde hair - he was in your favourite pair of skinny jeans he owned - ‘god he looked so good’ - “what ?? i cant tell my favourite step sister to have a good first day of college” his voice was laid back - it didnt sound like him.

“im gonna be late - but thanks” you shrugged him off 

“ill be quick then - since were going to the same place mind if i catch a ride?” he smiled from ear to ear - ‘ugh those pearly white teeth, and his perfect smile’

“uh - sure i guess, but were picking up jimmy and he gets front seat” you rolled your eyes

“thanks sis” michael laughed as he was already throwing his bags in the back seat beside him.

[tarosin]

did i do that p2

paring implied past platonic tommy/tubbo/ranboo x reader

tw: cursing, de realisation, mentions of suicide/death/paranoia

TW: de realisation, mentions of suicide/death/paranoia

Dear quackity,

if you’re reading this, it’s too late. you’ve probably noticed me and dream are nowhere to be found, you may ask yourself why did sam let the pair out well the answer to that is simple. he didn’t i’m sure you can find what remains of him somewhere around the prison. you really have yourself to blame, now before you start to get defensive and say ‘i didn’t do anything this is bullshit everyone’s trying to attack me’ let me tell you why. before you decided to give us weekly visits just to abuse us mentally and physically, we couldn’t stand each other. I’d go as far as to say I despised dream, but you helped unite us against a common enemy..you. now we’re unstoppable. I'll spare you the details of what happened to your precious warden. see you soon - Y/n + dream :)

“do you think he’ll be convinced we killed sam?”

“dream i’m in here for the murder of a child, of course he’s going to believe it.”

of course the pair of you didn’t actually kill sam, dream simply manipulated ranboo whilst he was enderwalking into bringing supplies you’d need. you have no idea how he managed, but at this point you didn’t care. you know damn well you shouldn’t be in this prison as you didn’t kill michael. you knew this because the ghost, at least you hope it’s his ghost and that your mind wasn’t messing with you, would stand in the corner of the cell telling you that it wasn’t you who murdered him that night. It was a range of factors: the skeletons, fear, pure exhaustion of trying to run from the mobs after him. you often found yourself ranting to dream about what you had been seeing every night for the past god knows how many months at this point, but alas it was no use. he swore he hadn’t seen anyone but you, occasionally sam, and quackity, definitely not the ghost of michael. It was now midnight according to the clock hanging on the wall. the plan was pretty simple, you would scream that dream had disappeared, causing sam to run into the cell, from then you’d use the rope ranboo gave dream to make temporary handcuffs, and whilst you all make your way to the locker room, where you’d temporarily keep sam assuming quackity would find him sooner or later, then that was it you’d finally be free.

“ready?” you nodded and dream hid in the corner, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being watched, but nevertheless you began screaming that dream disappeared, laughing to yourself as you heard the platform moving towards the cell.

“y/n calm down what do you mean- dream get off of me i don’t want to have to kill you but i will!”

dream rolled his eyes as you tied sams hands together.

“shut the fuck up sam, do you understand how pathetic you sound? you’re outnumbered you’re not going to do anything. if you know what’s good for you and your beloved quackity, you’ll tell us which pocket has your key cards in, okay?” this seemed to trigger something in sam as within 10 minutes you and dream had him in the locker room.

“bye sam, i’m sure your boyfriend will come and collect you soon enough, we left him a letter in the cell and a note from you where you always sit saying to just go on through, don’t miss us too much!”

there you both stood, in-front of the now locked locker room, no home, no friends, no plan, but you were free, that's all that matters to you.

“dream, i have something to ask, okay? promise no matter whatever happens, whether you don’t see me for weeks or you over hear something, you won’t come looking for me.“

“stay safe y/n, a lot of people aren’t going to be happy you’re out. whatever you do, avoid quackity.”

and just like that you went your separate ways, where dream went, you have no idea, you’ll probably hear something soon enough. as for you, well you didn’t really have a plan, you weren't really sure you wanted to be alive at this point. there was a little voice that sounded a lot like tommys ringing in your head, telling you to go to the old base you and tommy made years ago, so that’s where you went. you were clinging onto the hope tommy would be there and let you explain what happened that night, you’d make up then just like old times you’d plait his hair, as the pair of you sat under moonlight listening to whichever disk tommy felt like playing that night. this of course wasn’t the case, instead you were met with previous memories of your friendship. a photo book lay in the middle of the floor as if someone knew you escaped and would go to this base, you shut the door locking it behind you for your own safety, remembering what ranboo said to you the day you were thrown in the prison. picking up the photo book you noticed something odd, the words ‘i know what you did’ and ‘i know where you are’ were scratched into the leather cover. you threw the book onto the floor scared as hell. after you calmed down, you picked the book up from the floor, which was now open on the page of a group photo of you tommy and michael, which ranboo had taken the day you both agreed to babysit him for a while. as you flicked through the book, the images got dark. It went from photos of you tubbo ranboo and tommy laughing at the beach to the night michael was killed. the last page made your blood run cold, there was two photos, one was of michaels funeral, and the second was a picture of you sat in the middle of the base holding the photo book. this was the final straw. You were no longer in control of your breathing, you began feeling like you were being preyed on by something who really wasn’t happy with you and wanted you gone, you picked up the book one last time and everything was gone. the book was back to normal no threatening messages no pictures of michaels death or of you looking through the book, the cover was back to its original state full of happy memories of when you were friends with everyone, back when you were happy.

“hello y/n.”the rooms temperature dropped suddenly you began feeling like you were being watched, you turned around to see michael sat on the floor holding a photo book a lot like the one that caused you to panic.

“hey y/n why are my parents acting like they can’t see me anymore? this isn’t funny anymore, i miss them. can you talk to them?”

“michael... this isn’t real. you’re not real. GET OUT OF MY HEAD!”

everything went silent as if the world stopped turning for a few seconds, that’s when you heard the child laughing.

“what do you mean i’m not real? of course i am!”

“michael darling, you're dead remember, we spoke about this in prison. the skeletons shot you in the nether”

you continued talking to michael, not even realising ranboo had followed you to the base and was watching you talk to the wall.

“who are you talking to?”

you honestly didn’t know whether you felt relieved he was there with you or if you were pissed he found you, either way you ran to him pulling him into a hug despite him constantly telling you to let go of him.

“michael, he’s over there.”

“Is this some sick joke? There's no one there. he’s dead. you killed him!”

“ranboo please.. you, you don’t understand i didn’t kill him. please just let me explain what happened. he was surrounded by skeletons. they shot him please, you have to understand I loved that boy, I still do, I would never do something like that!”

“save it y/n, i don’t want to hear it now if you don’t mind i’m going to go tell sam that you have somehow escaped.”

you fell to your knees as ranboo walked away, you sat alone with the quiet comprehension of the ending of it all before realising if someone comes back you would be in big trouble, just before you was about to begin the long walk back to dream he showed up to the base you were currently crying in, not knowing tubbo and ranboo were not far behind him listening in to your conversation with dream.

“dream please i’m begging at this point. Please end my suffering. I can't do this anymore, no one’s listening to me. I CAN'T KEEP LIVING LIKE THIS! there’s a bow and arrow in that chest over there.”

“y/n, this isn’t a funny joke.”

“dream, do i look like i’m joking?”

“y/n..”

“hey, what can you say? we were overdue.”

tubbo and ranboo couldn’t believe what they were hearing right now, their best friend was about to die and there was nothing they could do about it. as soon as they heard dream open the chest, they ran as fast as they could to go and get tommy.

dream left straight away, it was hard to feel regret when you’re used to bloodshed. tommy couldn’t believe what tubbo and ranboo said and was convinced they were messing with him.

“Oh, I'm sure they did. how’d they get out the prison? did they fly out?”

he stood laughing, tubbo stood staring in disbelief, ranboo stood wiping his eyes trying not to cry knowing it would scar if he did. tubbo shook his head and grabbed his husbands hand for comfort.

“you’re really joking at a time like this?”

“we should tell phil.”

the three of them made their way to phil, guilt following them as they went they couldn’t believe what just happened. after they told phil, they all made their way to the base. as soon as the three teenagers saw the trail of blood dream left behind, they completely broke down and began walking, holding onto each other in an attempt to convince themselves this didn’t happen, and that you would be there. phil went in and saw your lifeless body laying there, knowing the others wouldn’t be able to handle seeing you like this, he sent them away to go and get technoblade. A few days later they found themselves sitting with puffy explaining what happened and what you had told them. realisation slowly hit them that you did in fact not kill michael, they felt awful the three of them couldn’t sleep since the day you passed. after the funeral, they often found themselves at your house as it was the only place that they could sleep and feel as though you were still with them. everyday they would visit your grave, placing anything they found that reminds them of you, and would apologise for not believing you sooner. now you were gone and there was nothing they could do about it.

tags:

@bozowrites