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#the difference in Michael is especially noticeable
hotchfiles · 10 hours
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↪ QUIS UT DEUS? ─ chapter one.
AN IN NOMINE PATRIS, ET FILII, ET SPIRITUS SANCTI INSTALLMENT
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pairing: hotch x fem!consultant!reader. summary: murders committed using catholic symbology gets emily to convince hotch it's time to ask for an expert. luckily for you, you're the expert. content warnings: canon typical violence. religious themes. spoilers to season 4. mature themes. word count: 1.5K
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    In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti…
    “Amen.” If you weren’t paying attention and side eyeing him at that exact moment, you might’ve lost the way his lips moved following the ritual, no word actually leaving his mouth. 
    The black haired man didn’t look too comfortable, but didn’t look out of place either, he knew the cues, he spoke the words on automatic it seemed. It amused you to observe people’s behavior on holy grounds, that was part of the reason you asked to meet in silver spring.
    “Catholic, Mr. Hotchner?” Your question is met with a low scoff, the type only those with a bad bad history with the church gave you. “That much, huh?”
    “My parents were.” The answer is simple and you think it might stop at that, but he shakes his head and scoffs again. “I was an altar boy for years before I left for boarding school.” You nod. 
    “Ah. I've met some of you in my research.” Some of you. Church babies, altar boys. Spoon fed the bible from birth while watching everyone around sin. Sin becoming a term to reflect on what they hated. 
    “And you? Catholic?” 
    “Oh no. Never been.” You don’t explain much, aware Emily probably told him of your time in Rome, where the two of you met. “Your UnSub is though. Either devoted to Saint Michael or knows enough about his roles to look like one.” You note, being reminded of the pictures Emily sent you, big stab wounds, a small scale tipped to one side, the words Hebrews 9:22 written in blood. 
    Hotchner doesn’t reply, making a mental reminder of the new information, he looks around the place as you both leave the church and it hits him, Silver Spring’s St. Michael the Archangel parish, the church you chose as a meeting place. 
    He wouldn’t usually accept consultation for cases, especially from outsiders. And to be fair, the BAU doesn’t usually need any, Reid alone has more knowledge than anyone Hotch has ever met, and despite the humbleness he tends to show, Hotch himself can take care of the general book knowledge if Reid doesn’t step up to it. But he trusted Emily, and Emily spoke more highly of you than of anyone. Honestly, he was also trying to make amends after not having her back during the Matthew case they had not long before. 
    “She's in town giving lectures, it’s an asset we have easy access to, so why not use it?” Were her final and most convincing words before Hotch nodded in agreement, watching Emily make the call that led to the meeting. 
    He thinks now, as he’s driving both of you to Quantico, that maybe Emily should’ve been the one here, his attempts to strike conversation falling flat as you don’t even remember the last time you had to make small talk with someone, it felt awkward all of a sudden, as if you were on a date. 
    “I'm so sorry, I'm not too good with… People.” You blurt out after a long minute of silence, your neck suddenly warm from embarrassment. 
    Hotch side eyes you, brows lifted in confusion. You seemed much less confident in the car now than what you showed him of you minutes before back at the church. He figures you felt confident talking about your area of expertise and that he could relate to easily. “Did you notice anything else by the pictures Emily sent you?” 
    The switch of topic makes you sigh loudly in relief and you mentally thank him for brushing your silliness off. “He’s using different pieces of catholic dogma and putting it together, but most of the symbology eludes to Michael, the stabbing looks like a sword, the tipped scale indicates judgment, the verse he chose doesn’t cite Michael but talks about sins being forgiven by the shedding of blood… He’s the judge and executioner of his victims.” You try not to sound excited as you ramble on, it’s a terrible thing to witness, the pictures were grotesque and would’ve made you sick on a normal day, but the cherry picking of symbols the murderer seemed to make fascinated you. 
    “So you believe it’s a man?” 
    “Oh! I–I don’t know? I just assumed… Is that misogynistic?” You mumble the last part more to yourself, but it’s loud enough to make him chuckle and you look at him quickly to make sure it’s not mean spirited. 
    It’s definitely not. But it is amusing from a profiler perspective, he’s so used to defining serials’ genders by their crimes he hasn’t thought about misogyny being a factor to those assumptions in a long time. 
    “Brutality suggests male. But posing looks remorseful, theatrical…” His grip on the wheel tightens, two victims by now, feet crossed, arms wide open. 
    “If there were more allusions to the crucifixion, yeah, but I–” You take your phone out to look at the pictures once more, an attempt to seem less abstract in what you’re about to say. “No crown, no nails, this isn’t about Christ, it’s about punishment–I mean, I think.” You’re not usually self conscious about your knowledge but inferring characteristics and desires to someone by looking at a crime scene was not your specialty. 
    “To further point they were judged and executed…” Hotch nods, understanding where your line of thought is going and completing it immediately, not leaving you much time to doubt yourself. 
    “A very shameful execution.” 
    You both spend the short ride from Silver Springs to Quantico going over the symbology present, you tried to help here and there with the associations of what you saw to who could’ve done it, even though that was not what you were called in for. Strangely enough—for him at least, Hotch didn’t seem to mind your guesses, they were educated ones.
    And it was interesting to hear someone speak with such passion about religious aspects without any of the fundamentalism. It was definitely something he wasn’t used to.
    “Mi amore!” Are the first words you hear as you enter the famous bullpen from Emily’s texts, her arms surrounding you in a tight warm hug you haven’t felt in years—it hits you then how long has it been. You weren’t able to come and mourn Matthew with her, his parents weren’t fond of you either (Lord almighty, you didn’t even go to church with them!) and you were busy with your lectures.
    “Hey troublemaker, how’s it going?” Your question is muffled in the hug, your hands clasping together behind her back.
    The reunion doesn’t last long, curious eyes set on you two and a rather impatient Hotch leading the way to what you learned was the conference room.
    The briefing room. The round table. Emily told you about it when she first got into the BAU.
    You end up sitting between Emily and who you would bet was Spencer—there’s this sweet kid working with us, he’s super smart, annoyingly smart, but so sweet, he reminds of Matty when we were teens—the lanky boy was the only one with what seemed like naivety enough in his eyes to be the one Emily mentioned back then. 
    Aaron sat in front of you almost, serious, stern, very different from the few chuckles you got from him in the car. This was unit chief Hotchner, the subtle difference was fascinating.
    “Alright, as we know, DC is in trouble, second murder in three weeks.” blonde and gorgeous, you believed that was JJ, there had been no time for introductions, all you could do was try to remember the e-mails and few phone calls you shared with Emily the past years. “Richard Beckett, married, no kids, 27. He works for his father's car dealership.” 
    Pictures show up on the screen, showing the man when he was alive. It’s a punch to your gut, just minutes before you were fascinated by the way this real person was murdered. You’re glad you had a light breakfast by the way your stomach turns.
    “Monica Dawson, divorced, no kids, 53. She’s a counselor at a local school.” The woman continues speaking, with more pictures on the screen. And then pictures of their deaths, side by side. The fascination is completely extinguished then. “Both were stabbed countless times with a large blade. Left in abandoned warehouses posed in a cross position, a tipped scale on their side. Both naked. Both were heavily drugged.”
    “They didn’t have kids, is that a coincidence?” You hear Emily speak up and suddenly you can see all their brains working.
    “Could that be the linking between them? The victimology is all over the place.” Derek. Oh. You’ve heard of Derek. You’ve seen pictures of Derek. He needs no introduction. 
    “Reid, Morgan, go talk to the first victim’s widow. Rossi, JJ, Ms. Dawson’s ex-husband can give us insight on her life. Emily and us—” He gives you a look and you understand he means you, nodding in reply. “Will head to the DC police precinct.” The way Hotch gives orders is effortless, not only his job but his vocation. 
    Everyone listens and agrees quickly, moving and leaving the table, even Emily is fast on her feet, even though she won’t leave without you and him. You stay still, stiff, eyes glued to the screen.
    “Are you alright?” His voice is soft, laced with worry, genuine worry. You didn’t even notice he had stayed behind, but you nod again at Hotch, a question burning at the tip of your tongue.
    “Do you still believe in God, Mr. Hotchner?”
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ingravinoveritas · 20 days
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| Olivier Awards red carpet, 2024 vs. Good Omens season 1 red carpet, 2019.
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bueckersgirl · 20 days
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Intertwined*
Paige Bueckers x Fem reader
Summary: Y/n and Paige have been broken up for a month now, and when a party comes around where they both find themselves at, feelings are revealed and its clear that they both can't seem to forget about each other.
WC: 3.2K
Warnings: 18+, smut, minor angst
(sidenote; im so obsessed with this picture UGH.)
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➽───────────────❥
God— Y/n could feel her stare from across the room as she tried to keep up a conversation with her friend, Micheal. It was getting harder and harder to avoid Paige and her intense stares all night but y/n refused to give in because she knew that’s exactly what she wanted- for her to acknowledge her. Y/n wasn’t in the mood to speak to Paige, there was no need to really and she truly only came here to celebrate her friend's birthday then leave. 
It has been a good month since the pair had last spoken to each other, and the image of Paige banging on her front door,  begging for another chance was something permanently scarred in her mind. Y/n didn’t let her in, she refused to, and told Paige to go home and forget about everything they ever had. 
Y/n cared for Paige a lot- she truly really did. A part of her still does whether she wants to or not. Paige just screwed up a lot and no amount of apologies she’d give would make a difference. 
If it wasn’t for Micheals birthday tonight, she’d be at home in her bed instead. But, Michael had been her childhood friend for years and she wasn’t just gonna not come just because Paige was friends with him too. 
“You look stunning tonight, Y/n.” Michael spoke, grabbing her hand and giving it a small peck, causing her to smile sheepishly and mumble a quiet, “Thank you.” 
Y/n took a peek down at her glass, noticing it being basically empty as she chewed on her bottom lip, “I’m gonna go get a refill.” 
She slowly moved away from Micheal, making her way to the kitchen, and she felt her expression drop as she did so. Y/n felt exhausted the entire night keeping up the image that she was happy and acting as though Paige being there didn’t bother her but she didn’t want her to know how badly things were affecting her.
Once she was in the kitchen the music from the living room died down a bit while she searched the fridge for a new bottle of champagne. 
“Ma.”
Her eyes shot open once she heard the voice she hadn't heard in weeks, causing her to suck in a deep breath before she continued to pour her drink into her glass. Y/n was positive there was no way she’d be able to handle a conversation with Paige, especially not tonight. This was not the right time or place to try and work things out. 
“Paige, no.” She told her softly as she took a sip from her glass. 
She kept her eyes down at the kitchen floor, noticing Paige’s figure making her way closer to hers. “We’re not doing this tonight, please.”
“I just wanted to see you.”
“You have been seeing me this entire night, Paige.” She was directly in front of her now. She felt as if she was trapped under her frame and was too tired to push herself off. 
Paige sighed, leaning against the kitchen counter. “Properly see you. Like this. Not just from across the room.”  
“It’s been hard though because of you trying to avoid me all night.” 
“Paige, I don’t want to avoid you. I just don’t want to cause anything on Michael's day.” She sighed, placing a hand onto Paige’s chest to move her out of her way. “Now, if you’ll please excuse me, I can’t stay in the kitchen forever.” 
“So that’s just it, huh? You can’t even look at me anymore?”
Y/n shut her eyes while sucking in a deep breath before turning back around as her eyes made her way up towards Paige’s body, scanning her body, seeing she was dressed in one of her red huskies jerseys with a pair of sweats. Once her eyes finally reached her face the urge to look away grew stronger as Paige’s stare felt more intense and intimate with each second that passed by.
“See? I’m looking right at you, now. Was this what you wanted?  Are you pleased?”
Y/n was quick to notice Paige's expression fall at her words and she watched as she put her hair in a messy ponytail. “No, Y/n I’m not pleased or happy. I haven’t been pleased with anything since that day.”
“Paige, don’t start this.” She shook her head as she indulged in the rest of the champagne left in her glass. “You know I did what was best for the both of us whether you like it or not. Our relationship wasn’t healthy, it was bound to end eventually.” 
Paige scoffed, while her eyes trailed over her. “Bound to end eventually, seriously? Look I know I fucked up a lot. Like a whole lot. I'm not proud of it, I know how badly I hurt you and it pains me everyday when I think about how we ended because I know things could’ve been different if I just stopped fucking up.” 
“I tried playing it cool and shit acting like this hadn’t affected me.” She sighed before walking over and looking down at her, “Seeing you tonight, so beautiful, so gorgeous and talking to Michael and the rest of our friends as if  you moved on so much, it’s been killing me horribly. Because I haven’t moved on, y/n. I haven’t at all.” 
Y/n felt her heart pounding at Paige's words. She wasn’t even sure if what she was saying was the truth but a part of her hoped it was. Y/n hadn’t moved on either even though she’d try convincing herself she did, she knew she hadn’t. 
She opened up her mouth to speak but was quickly interrupted by Michael coming into the kitchen. He stopped before looking at the pair and letting out an awkward laugh. 
“Is everything alright?” He asked, and y/n gave him a small smile in response. “Everything’s okay, Mikes. Just came to get a refill and ran into Paige so we catched up a bit. I was actually just leaving to go find you.”
“It was nice talking to you, Paige.” Y/n whispered as she slipped her way past her, feeling Paige’s fingers lightly brush against her shoulder.
She hated how badly her body got goosebumps just from feeling her touch again. 
————————————
It had been two weeks since the party and Paige still lived in y/n’s mind. It was hard enough trying to forget about her but not only seeing her but speaking to her as well made y/n’s mind wander more than usual. 
Y/n had been laying down on her couch the last few hours binging a few movies while eating some snacks. She was slowly beginning to fall asleep but a knock to her door woke her up. 
Rubbing her eyes she made her way towards the door and took a peek through her doorbell. 
You’ve got to be kidding me.
Sighing she undid all the locks before opening it. Her breath was quickly stolen from her seeing Paige standing there with a cupcake and a mini bouquet of white roses in her hand, and she could sense the desperation radiating off her.
“I got these for you—I remember how much you loved the cakes from Sweet Mary’s.” Paige mumbled, before handing them over to her. “I’m sorry for just randomly showing up over here. I just had to speak to you.” 
She took them from her and whispered a soft, “Thank you” before moving out of the doorway. “Please, come in.”
Y/n wasn't sure why she didn’t just tell Paige to go home again instead of letting her in. She’d never admit it, but a part of her missed her company. She just hoped that this didn’t end badly. 
Paige stepped inside, taking off her slides and leaving them by the door as Y/n made her way towards her vessel in the kitchen to place the flowers in. “Are you thirsty? I can make some coffee or tea if you’d like. I also have a bit of wine if you’d prefer that instead.”
“No–no, I’m okay. Thank you, y/n.” Paige spoke, before following y/n to her living room where they sat on opposite sides of the couch. “Thank you, also for uh–letting me in this late.” 
Y/n watched as Paige swallowed thickly and turned to her, “I’ve been missing you so badly, Y/n, you truly have no idea. I’m sure at the party it was obvious enough but  I don’t want to play the victim, and make excuses for what I did because that’s stupid. I’m so, so, so sorry, y/n, for everything. For hurting you, for not changing, for letting my career get in the way of us, and making you feel unseen. After I gave myself these two weeks to properly think, it was clear that I need you back in my life. I’m a mess without you, ma. I truly don’t want to keep handling everything without you by my side anymore.” 
Y/n sat quiet for a few seconds not sure how to properly express what she wanted to say. She could tell Paige was miserable and she didn’t want to say the wrong thing. 
“Look.” she began, noticing how Paige dropped her head into her hands, before giving her the chance to finish and letting out shaky breaths. “I know from the outside looking in on things you’ve assumed I’ve been handling things fine. I can tell based on what you said to me at Michaels birthday. But I actually haven’t been dealing with this that well either. I’ve missed you as well, you’re all my mind has been thinking about the past month. And no matter how hard I try to deny my feelings– I really miss you.” 
Paige slowly lifted her head back up as a large grin took over her face, “Can I scoot closer to you, please?” she asked, and y/n was quick to nod in response. 
“God– you have no idea how badly I’ve missed sharing the same space as you. Just getting the chance to be this close to you is so fucking rewarding.” she spoke as she ran her fingers through y/n’s hair while she laid on her lap. Paige’s hand came up to her cheek, it was clear at first she was hesitant but she eventually stroked y/n’s cheek gently and let out a relieving sigh. “I’ve missed touching you.” 
Y/n turned her head and kissed the palm of Paige’s hand. “I’ve missed touching you too.” she spoke, before lifting her head up and running her nose against Paige’s jaw. “Please don’t hurt me again.” 
Paige wrapped her arms around her waist tightly and whispered softly into her ear, “I promise, I’ll never hurt you again my sweet girl.” Before Paige got the chance to say any more, y/n was quick to lean in and press her lips against hers, molding them together as she held onto Paige’s shirt tightly. Paige took the opportunity to roam her hand down y/n’s body again just like she did before. Finally getting the chance to feel her bare skin against hers was something she’d been craving for what felt like years. Her hand slid under y/n’s shirt and cupped her bare breast with her hand, earning a light moan from her against her lips. Her other hand slipped into her shorts, but was quickly taken aback when her hand was met with y/n’s bare ass cheek–instead of the cloth of her panties. 
She pulled back from the kiss and looked at y/n with furrowed brows. “You aren’t wearing underwear?” 
Y/n’s cheeks flushed pink as she shook her head in response and licked on her bottom lip. “I uh–take them off before I go to sleep now. It’s something I’ve been doing recently.” 
She watched as Paige’s pupils dilated, and soon both of her hands were now cupping her ass as she lifted them up from the couch and walked towards her room. “I forget how strong you are sometimes.” y/n muttered, causing Paige to chuckle before dropping her gently onto her twin-sized bed. “That seems like something pretty hard to forget, ma.” 
Paige hovered on top of y/n’s spread out figure and ran her fingers against her bare thigh. “Take off your shirt for me, ma. Wanna see those pretty tits again, been too long.” she asked and y/n was quick to comply, taking off her blouse earning a light grunt from Paige’s lips.
She held them both in her hands as she lightly massaged them, “Fuck, I’ve missed touching these pretty lil’ things so bad, baby.” she whispered before bringing her mouth down and sucking on one of them, and pinching the other one using her thumb and index finger as y/n let out a loud moan. 
“Feels good, hm?” Paige mumbled, removing her mouth from her breast and attaching them to her neck, nibbling onto the skin, making sure to leave a visible mark right underneath her jaw. 
She slid down y/n’s shorts eagerly and moaned at the sight of her bare pussy on display for her. “Ima take care of you tonight, ma. Just like I used to, gonna help you feel real good.” she spoke, taking two of her fingers and shoving them into y/n’s mouth and muttering a low, “Suck.” 
Y/n was quick to suck on her fingers like her life depended on it. She remembered how much Paige loved when she’d take them down her throat–so she was quick to do so. “Fuck, yes. Just like that.” Paige praised, shoving a third finger into her mouth. “Suck my fingers real good, ma. Imagine it was my strap in your mouth again.” Y/n moaned at the thought of having the strap back in her mouth–missing the way Paige would fuck her face with it or the times she’d aggressively fuck her when she’d misbehave, leaving her pussy sore yet throbbing and begging for more. 
“Such a good girl. Sucking my fingers so well.” she said, slowly taking her fingers out of y/n’s mouth as a string of saliva followed, then bringing them down to her dripping pussy. “Always get so wet for me, didn’t even need the spit, could easily slide my fingers right in, just like this.” she spoke as she slid two of her digits nice and slow inside, watching them disappear inside her entrance, before taking them out, licking her wetness clean from her fingers and letting out a moan at the taste.
“God–sweetest pussy I’ve ever had. Could have this taste in my mouth everyday and be satisfied.” 
“Paige.” “Yes, ma?”
“Please lick me.” 
Paige leaned down and gave her a peck on the lips. “Anything you want.” she whispered, grabbing y/n’s thighs and putting them on top of her shoulders. Paige was a sucker for teasing, and on any other occasion she’d make y/n work and beg for it. That was the usual for them. It was rare for Paige to give in this easily and early but fuck–she hadn’t gotten a chance to properly taste her in a month.  
She was quick to attach her mouth to y/n’s needy clit and start licking. She gained so much pleasure just by eating her out, it was like a gift on Christmas day for her. “Been so long since I had this sweet lil’pussy in my mouth.” Paige lifts her mouth up a bit and licks, causing y/n’s mouth to fall open in disbelief at the soft, sucking sound and gently smacking-noise as her lips sucked onto her clit. “God–it’s so fucking good.” she groaned under her breath, and y/n swears she’s on cloud nine. The feeling of Paige’s hot breath combined with her wet tongue was sensational. 
“Come on, ma.” she squeezed her thighs with her long fingers before pleading, “Back and forth yeah? Rock a bit for me, want you to be riding my face a bit.” Y/n was quick to do so, feeling the warm tip of Paige’s tongue press against her. “Fuck, feels so good, I’ve missed your tongue on me so badly.” she moaned, before Paige gave her a warm, long lick, causing her to cry out softly.
“Yes–yes, that’s right baby.” Paige muffled, giving her clit a short, sloppy sounding lick, making y/n buckforward again. “Shit, good fucking girl. Ride my tongue, just like that.” she spoke, having her tongue still buried between her folds, as y/n let out louder moans from the pleasure. Paige began kneading her thighs firmly as she licked deeper and deeper with each sound of y/n’s breathless moans escaping her swollen lips.
Y/n felt her abdomen clench and release, causing her to let out a fluttery sigh. “I’m close, so-so close.” she whispered urgently, as Paige hauls her more tightly against her mouth and presses her tongue more firmly against her needy clit. Y/n inhales sharply and her mouth falls open when her center starts to splinter into pieces, “I’m cummin–fuck.” And before she knew it, she was making a mess on Paige’s face. She pants, caught in place, as Paige rubs her thighs and lifts her face up, revealing her mouth and chin, glistening in her pussy juices. 
Paige then leans down and kisses her, and y/n immediately tasted herself on her tongue. The two just stayed like this for a while before y/n pulled back from the kiss. “Now–my turn.” Y/n climbs her way off the bed and stands in front of Paige’s frame. “Let me make you feel good now.” she spoke, lightly shoving Paige back against the bed into the same position she was just in. Paige took off her sweats, leaving her in just her underwear and y/n was moaning already at the sight in front of her. 
“I’ve missed having you in my mouth.” she says, licking a stripe against her clothed clit, earning a moan from Paige’s lips. “Ima make you feel good too, promise.” Y/n quickly pulls her underwear to the side, revealing her wet and glistening folds, ready for her to dig in. 
Y/n’s quick to start licking as if she hadn’t eaten a proper meal in years. Paige kept a firm grip on her hair, yanking and pulling on it lightly with each feel of her tongue against her. Y/n loved looking up and watching the sight of Paige falling apart above her. Paige’s body grew more desperate with each deep, sloppy lick to her clit as y/n spit down onto her, earning another moan from her lips. Y/n could tell she was close by her pants and breaths, and she was determined to taste her cum on her tongue. After a few more licks and sucks to her clit, her legs shook and she was cumming. 
“Mmmmm” y/n dragged out, as she licked her lips clean and offered Paige a cute smile. “So tasty.” she mumbled as Paige grabbed her hips and dragged her body on top of hers and kissed her lazily.
 “I’ve missed this so badly, y/n.” 
“I’ve missed this too.” she muttered, gently kissing her jaw before pecking her nose. “At least now you don’t have to miss it anymore.”
“And why’s that hm?” she asked.
“Because I’m yours again.”
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dopscratch · 3 months
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so as you all may know i very much love me and @junebugzjuniperr's schmidt brothers au where essentially michael afton from the games meets mike schmidt from the movies.
as such, of course you can expect me to absolutely adore @chloesimaginationthings's comics of the fnaf movie and game characters interacting with each other (seriously if you happen to see this your stuff is truly fantastic)
however as i continued on i noticed one a key differences in my and chloe's stuff and that is michael afton the corpse man himself
so uh i drew this
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i love how ugly and gross and scraggly and horrific my michael afton is truly especially next to the pristine chloe michael it makes me chuckle
but yeah basically my version of michael afton has a big self-loathing problem (and some british teeth hehe)
also i totally didnt steal that punchline from tf2 of course not there's no way i thought of saxton hale on page seven of the war! comic when i wrote chloe-michael's line of course not how could you think that
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sl4sh3rsub · 9 months
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rz michael myers hcs (nsfw: mdni)
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rz michael myers x reader (AFAB, AMAB, FtM, MtF)
warning: a lot here. mikey has a monster cock, insecure + inexperienced michael, he doesn't talk but makes noise + mouths words + grunts syllables sometimes (selectively mute ig?), oral sex (both giving and receiving), excessive creampies, fingering (receiving), no lube we die like men his dick n spit does it for him, masturbation, rimming (both giving and receiving), knife kink, excessive mentions of precum + spit + cum, creative use of cum/arousal fluids in arts projects, musk kink, choking (receiving), mentions of sex toys, thigh humping, mention of canon SA and violence (nothing w/ or directly involving reader), p in v + anal (all unprotected - pls stay safe irl), cum eating, slight somnophilia, bruises and hickeys, cockwarming, slight worship (receiving), dry humping, handjobs, 2 mentions of him having a mini shrine to you, mentions of needle hrt in ftm + mtf bits (feel free to ignore), mentions of the institute/asylum
a/n: sorta edited. tried not to be too ooc, but it's more focused on a softer side of michael - personally i think his character is very different to og/peepaw myers! rz mikey is more based in instinct rather than previous experiences/societal expectations, so there's more general hcs than separate sections this time. NOTE: feel free to read any sections, tried my best to not use gendered terms in agab sections but lmk how i can improve :3
order: general hcs first then amab + afab then ftm + mtf, different sections = different content n tried not to repeat much
_ _ _ _ _
general hcs
as michael is very inexperienced with kissing, he'll smash his lips against yours and become a huffing mess after he gets worked up from your breath mingling with his and your darkening gazes meeting
if you play with his hair and gaze into his eyes, he can't help it if he gets half-hard - his body will always needily react to your attention and affection
he's most at home in grey sweatpants - he's very used to wearing them while making his masks and associates them with comfort and the years of creatively honing his craft
so naturally, don't be surprised when his already impressive girth pulses and thickens at the sight of you bending over or reaching something off a high shelf
mikey will absolutely make you your own special mask!! although, the glue he uses for your personal paper mâché mix is a bit more,, personal. he'll also use your arousal to paint the inner layer of his favourite mask :( he simply needs to have some semblance of you with him at all times, especially whenever he's out on the town and away from your embrace
he's borderline hypersexual and gets half-hard and extremely sensitive without reason, however he doesn't always feel the need to act on his urges with you. expect him hiding his arousal during mundane activities, getting flushed and shy when he realises that you notice :<
if he's comfortable on the couch, he'll make himself at home with a horrendous manspread. naturally, this leads to him getting flustered whenever you kneel in between his legs with a mischievous glint in your eye. if you ask him sweetly, he'll be more than happy to sit you in between his strong thighs and let you hump into his hand while you both watch a movie
if he's not feeling like he wants to be inside you, he'll lie on his back with his knees up, pulling you to straddle his waist and lean back against his thighs. from this angle, he's able to watch you play with yourself and masturbate above him while feeling your weight grounding him, just out of reach but almost close enough to taste
he loves taking you from behind and kissing the base of your neck, your breathless giggles echoing in his ears as his long hair tickles your shoulders and back
michael loves having you cockwarm him while he makes his masks!! he adores it when you doze off with your cheek smushed into his shoulder during a late night arts-and-crafts session, the slow pulse of his heartbeat deep inside you
he's so, so incredibly thankful for you, that he's able to unleash his frustrations into you, whether it be about a ripped mask or just about pentup emotions. he's eternally thankful for your love and under the table support
you are mikey's angel, his true saving grace. after his long bout at the institute, he was fully convinced that being loved by anyone was impossible for him. your welcoming arms and gentle praise proved him wrong and completely changed his image of heaven - to michael, it's no longer a cloudy sky mentioned in those old books, it's your warm embrace and loving gaze. it just took him a little while to realise that he was in his own little paradise with you
he tries his hardest to treat you with absolute reverence and adoration T-T he's devoted to making you feel good with him, no matter what. usually, this means holding back from skullfucking you at a brutal pace whenever you give him head. your throat is just so tight around him :( it's got him steadying himself against a wall with his hand, shaking and sweating from holding back, with his gorgeous, garbled moans encouraging you to swallow the saltiness of his length
mikey's wandering hands always end up on your ass or tummy whenever you cuddle together, it's just comforting for him
he's one of the strongest, largest men to ever walk the earth, but the way he gently traces your facial features makes you forget that completely. michael handles you like you're made of porcelain, only using soft pressure unless you assure him he won't break you easily
he has a big, strong and beefy body. lord knows how he maintained it in the institute but with you, he's gonna try his damnedest to put all of his strength to good use - whether it be getting you off while fingering you, his toned forearms barely breaking a sweat or his tree trunk thighs tensing while you ride them
mikey is not trimmed or well-groomed downstairs, his pubes are a wild and unkempt cloud of blonde and light grey hair, so you know he's not caring about how you look at all. you're a fuckin deity in his eyes and he'll dispose of anyone who makes you feel anything other than heavenly
michael is uncut, big and thick, with a large vein running up the underside - so heavy and large that it can't even stand up against his belly, instead slightly bobbing with his pulse and hanging low. it's the type you see in lewd magazines, where it tilts down even when fully hard
when you're on your knees for him, expect his weepy cockhead to drip onto your face while you kiss and nip at his heavy, full balls
oh yeah, this man has the definition of breeder balls; hanging low, swollen and filled to the brim with his potent cum. he truly has so much to give, so you'd better be ready for multiple loads throughout the night
in contrast to michael's hard cock, his nipples are soft and incredibly sensitive. if he's trying to cum as fast as possible, he'll sneak a hand up his shirt and pinch at them relentlessly - make sure they're puffy and spit-glazed after you've been ontop, he goes absolutely feral would really appreciate it
mikey has massive hands too - his fingers are enough to fill you considerably, but he often resorts to stuffing your mouth with them or using his palm to muffle your noises if you're being vocal. he definitely doesn't want the cops called on you just because he's great at pleasuring you
his cock feels heavy inside you, almost like he's deep in your chest whenever he bottoms out. the weight is absolutely dizzying as it stretches you out each thrust and rubs all of the right places. he easily gets drunk on the feeling of you clenching around him, leading to his head being tossed back with drool dribbling down his chin at the sensation
he has the biggest size kink possible but he really doesn't want to get carried away when exerting his strength and size on you - he doesn't want to get carried away or hurt you too badly :(
michael uses whatever knife he can get his hands on during foreplay to add a bit of risk and edge. cutting off your underwear and shirt, tracing down thighs and hips and gently nicking your skin every once in a while, but he quickly tosses it if you beg him to fuck you desperately enough - he doesn't wanna hurt you that bad, not before he's even gotten started
mikey is incredibly insecure about himself and his own worth as a person. he fears your love is only temporary and that you'll move on, leaving him behind as a memory or an adrenaline rush of foolish regret :( for that reason, he's terrified to go too hard or hurt you badly - he's convinced you'll be in pain and be fearful of him if he fucks up. be sure to reassure him when you're together after you have a rougher time and he's manhandling you more <3
initially when he learnt about dry humping, he was confused as to why he craved the friction so desperately but he's learnt to give in - michael will almost immediately cum in his pants if you quietly reassure him you'll clean up the mess you're both bound to leave on his clothes. half the fun (in his eyes, at least) is seeing you get flustered over the sheer amount of his load that's seeping into his boxers from just that little bit of friction
his favourite place to have you is on his lap - cockwarming, cuddling or napping, he does not care. he needs to have your face pressed into his neck with his larger frame providing you with warmth and stability
will rarely fist his cock but if you ever catch him, you might be able to make out his lips repeating the shape of your name over and over
for a long while at the start of your.. arrangement, he had no idea how to initiate sex. he'd just hover close to you, desperately hoping you'd notice the heat radiating from his massive, obvious bulge. would start to bite the inside of his cheek and guide your body towards him in a desperate hint if you didn't clock it immediately
he also did not know shit about the human anatomy, so he'll need you to guide him to where you want to be touched and with a bit of coaching, he'll learn the correct pressure and pace to get you off easily
if you tease him while he's in his overalls, the sight of his lower region slowly darkening with his endless pre and the sound of his haggard breathing devolving into animalistic grunts is nearly enough to make your knees give out
michael isn't a massive fan of fucking you on your bed, especially if your room is in a similar layout to his back at the institute. haunting memories brought on by the guards cast negative clouds across his mind and that is the last thing he wants with you. he'd much prefer to go at it against a wall, the couch or even the floor. most of the time, around his desk is where the action happens and your bed is solely reserved for sleep <3
he loves smearing his precum all over your face, loves letting his musk seep into your skin while your eyes glaze over with lust
he cups your chin, cheek and jaw whenever you have his full attention and his heart melts when you nuzzle into him - his thumb plays with your bottom lip and if you decide to suck on it to keep your mouth occupied, so expect to have mikey silently begging you to cockwarm him while his brain goes fuzzy
while you relax for the evening, watching a movie together, expect him to position you with your head on his thigh (your face way to close to his crotch ofc)
michael loves you sucking on his soft cock and warming him with your mouth, he adores the slow feeling of him growing hard as you moan and gag around his length
when you introduce him to the concept of the sixty-nine position, he absolutely short-circuits. what do you mean you can both suffocate in each other's musk while getting each other off?? what do you mean he can prop himself up above you so he can spend time teasing you while forcing you to choke on his length???
michael always cums a bit too quickly and a bit too much - the moment he enters you for the first time, he can't help but fill you up immediately (good thing he's blessed with inhuman stamina)
he's also the biggest fan of you offering to clean up the mess of his cum dripping down his shaft - if your ass is a bit tender and sore from his rough pace, he's more than happy to soften in your mouth while the two of you catch your breath and wind down
mikey isn't very confident with toys and would much rather pleasure you by himself, but he wouldn't mind learning slowly what you prefer over time
he's also not a fan of lube - it feels too cold on his skin and the slippery nature of it scares him a little, so the best way to get him all coated in pre (for your comfort ofc) is to rim him. his tip drools and spits out so much of his arousal whenever you fuck him with your tongue, rest assured it'll bubble down his shaft and drip onto your chest. the delicious flush of his neck and upper chest is a glorious sight to behold
he first feels the urge to make love to you slowly after he sees a steamy, romantic sex scene with a married couple on television - he wants to give you the warmth and care the actors portray on screen
when you first offered to give him head, he tentatively slapped his cock against your tongue to test waters and see if you liked the taste but ended up addicted to the feeling. he'll smack it against your lips and tongue every time you're on your knees for him
his heavy balls slapping against your chin while he floods your mouth with salty, thick warmth is one of his favourite sounds
he starts breathily whimpering in his gravelly voice whenever he fully bottoms out in your heat, one of the rare moments when he totally loses control over his lust for you
he grunts out the syllables of your name when he's about to cum, digging his fingers into your hips and nipping your neck, leaving deep marks on your skin
mikey gets the same rush whenever you both cum together as to when he stabs someone and kills them after a long game of cat and mouse - there's a reason why the french call it 'petit mortis', a little death
the first time the two of you had sex, it brought out such intense emotions from michael that he was left shaken, crying from confusion about the onslaught of feelings he just shared with you. he is originally torn between holding you close and never letting you go as well as instantly leaving and isolating himself in his own space - like he's used to. he needs time to fully mull over the situation and new sensations he experienced but he would really like to have you nearby incase he needs a hug :(
on a long day, after you've given him head, he'll softly catch his breath while watching you blissfully hum and rest your cheek against his thigh. he huffs a small chuckle as you press light kisses into his softening cock
myers really doesn't want to hurt your ass or bruise your upper thighs too much as he needs to have you perched on his lap whenever he can, but you can expect tender skin from his hips slapping into you as well as bruises from his grip on your waist and hips
if he was too rough with you the night before (maybe accidentally leaving bone-deep bruises or purple marks and scratches along your body), he'll disappear early next morning and return during breakfast with a fistful of fresh tulips as an apology, with their stems partially crushed. just be sure to rinse off the dirt still attached to the roots, it's the thought that counts :<
michael may be inexperienced and bashful but he'll try anything once if it gets you off and brings you pleasure
michael loves to place his hand around your throat, just as a reminder of his sheer strength and power over you. with the slightest amount of pressure, he could make your brain go dumb and your tongue loll out
he chokes you until your eyes become unfocused, your little gasps and whines becoming softer and softer. the proud glint in michael's eyes is deserved, as you fully trusted him with your life while you were in your most vulnerable position. he holds you close while you unsteadily catch your breath, mumbling about how good you are to him and stroking your hair all the while
if you're too shy to look up at him while he fucks you or gives you head, he'll tilt your chin up and groan when your cheeks flush at his blown out pupils
he's the type to not pull out after, needing to soften and catch his breath while still feeling connected, inadvertently overstimulating you without fail as his whole body is racked with aftershocks
if he's feeling mean, michael will make you hump his thigh while he palms at his dick during one of his arts and crafts sessions
he wipes the last dribbles of his cum on your inner thighs after he pulls out. he'll clean it either way - with a damp towel or his tongue, it's up to you <3
occasionally after a spree, he'll need to let his mind rest and will use you as his cute little fleshlight, burying himself deep inside you while guiding your hips along with his rhythm at a bruising pace. if you pay close attention, you'll see his lips forming silent prayers and whispers of apology whenever you yelp from the pace
his post-kill musk is potent enough to make your head spin. if you rest your cheek against his pectoral, you'll be able to feel his heartbeat start to slow against you :<
his guilty pleasure is pulling out while cumming thick spurts, slapping his tip across your skin while smearing his load all over you, be it your lips and cheeks or ass and thighs
michael doesn't want to disturb your sleep if he's needy, so he'll slip your hand in between his boxers and pajama pants to feel your smaller hand against his throbbing bulge. he's content to doze like that but expect to feel him humping into your fist while he sleeps. you may wake to the sound of sheets rustling as he licks up the mess he made, much too tired to change sheets but not wanting it to dry and soil your sheets
he insists on placing his hand firmly on the back of your neck whenever he takes you from behind - to stop you from fucking yourself back on his cock and squirming at his pace
after sex with mikey, it's a common occurrence for you both to be a panting mess on the floor when he's done, your throat sore from mindless babbling and loud moans - all complete with a wet, drool-covered spot on your shirt from his grunts through gritted, gnashed teeth. when he's floated back into the right headspace, he's absolutely mortified by his behaviour and is tentative to even glance at you in a less than innocent way for the next couple hours
if your soft body goes limp in his arms after a mind-blowing orgasm, he gets scared at first and stops his thrusts. he's worrying he hurt you but, once he realises you're alright, he'll support your head and neck and go completely feral, thrusting and grinding until he reaches his high as well
whenever you fall asleep ontop of him, he needs to have your face tucked into the crook of his neck - the scent of your hair and sex in the air lulls him to sleep quicker than any sedative could
he adores your attention while you both bask in your respective afterglows - your hands gently cradling his face while he tucks himself away is one of his favourite, most soothing actions of yours. he'll always rub circles into your skin in return
_ _ _ _ _
amab hcs
michael is inexperienced and completely driven by instinct when it comes to giving head - he wouldn't be deep-throating, instead focusing on your tip and licking along your veins. he's a master of giving handjobs, with the amount of spit he shamelessly coats you with (not to mention his rougher hands)
if he's particularly needy, he'll come up behind you and gently undo your belt while tracing his fingers over your zipper, nosing at your jaw and softly rutting into your ass while panting above you
the moment your fly is undone, his breathing gets ragged and drool nearly starts dripping down his chin
cages you against a bench or wall to rut against your ass and breathe in your scent after a long day at work
if you introduce him to rimming,, lord save your soul. his scruff rubs your ass raw with how often he goes to town on your tight, puckered hole. his favourite bit is pulling back and admiring how you glint in the light with his spit shining all over
of course, the extra spit only helps his efforts of bullying his throbbing cock into your poor hole
whenever michael is close to the edge while buried deep in you, he starts uncontrollably twitching and bumping your prostate, causing you to let out a pitchy whine at the unexpected feeling. every time without a doubt, his eyes roll back and growls into your ear at you clenching around him
he has a small photo shrine of your cocks together, a mess of cum and spit framed for his appreciation (he's a romantic)
his dirty fantasy is getting your attention while you're on the phone in bed by mouthing and groping at your cock, working you through the fabric of your pants
michael is obsessed with rutting his cock against yours, covering each other in your arousals, cum spurting up onto your chests as you nip and kiss at each other's chest and throat
_ _ _ _ _
afab hcs
mikey loses his mind a little each time you cream on his shaft, feeling your arousal dripping down to his balls and coating the insides of his thighs. just the thought of your slick coating him is enough to make his eyes roll back
he rips or cuts your underwear off you if he's too impatient to wait for you to fully undress
once michael is fully stuffed inside you, he gently traces where you meet, in awe of how he manages to fit in your heat
his large hands span over the bulge of his cock in your tummy, making you tear up at the pressure and drip onto the sheets
leans his head closer to your ear just to make sure you hear his groans and grunts while he destroys your pussy
his favourite sight is his pearly globs of cum oozing out of your puffy, soaked hole - made complete by the fucked out glaze in your eyes as you stare at the blurry spectre of a giant between your thighs
he tentatively gropes your thighs and enjoys warming his hands by sticking them up your shirt. if you both happen to make an appearance in public, expect him to crowd around you to try and shield you form from wandering eyes - he may be yours but you're also his, so no one has a right to touch or even look at your precious body (especially not your soft tits or ass, they're for him only)
teach him to tie his hair in a messy bun or acquire a hairband for him to keep his hair from getting sticky whenever he does down on you, slurping and worshipping your pussy like it's his god-given purpose on this earth
once he tries taking you in a mating press, he accidentally discovers heaven. he can fully dwarf you in his shadow and also cradle your pretty face while erratically thrusting and groaning in that raspy voice you love. if he fucks you dumb, he's more than happy to wipe away your tears
sometimes michael hesitates pushing into you for fear of it hurting too much, unintentionally resulting in him working you up by teasing your entrance with his thick cockhead then nudging your clit, fully soaking his length in your arousal
_ _ _ _ _
ftm hcs
mikey initially gets scared if you administer hrt yourself with a needle - he knows what happens to rowdy patients who get the needle back at the asylum. however, as he slowly notices physical changes in your body, he'll marvel at your form developing before his very eyes
michael's sadistic side comes out when he spanks your cock until your sloppy boycunt is drooling onto the mattress. he makes sure to gently slip his finger in your hole every so often, his delight in your whines is very evident when you can feel him throbbing under you
his strong forearms easily hold down your hips to stop them from rutting into his mouth whenever he sucks you off, making you shiver with every thrust of his tongue. his dick is neglected while he goes to town, not that mikey minds at all. he knows he'll be able to go balls deep after you've cum at least once to loosen up for him
due to his strength, he'll keep you still even while you become overstimulated, the pleasure bordering on pain but he's too far gone to care - this man becomes so pussydrunk that he can barely process that he's stained all of the material in your immediate vicinity with your arousal; your pants, his shirt, the carpet and not to mention the couch or bedsheets from his erratic wiping of his fingers when they get too slippery
loves to have you bouncing on his cock - grabbing your hips until they're bruised to control the pace and depth, pushing you to take all of him inside
sometimes if you look extra delectable while attempting to reach something off of a high shelf, michael may not be able to control himself and his craving for your taste - he will bend you over with no hesitation and make out with your cunt, nose glistening in your folds as his chapped lips graze against your tdick and his chin dripping with your pre. his massive hands groping your ass as he spreads your legs for better access
the rhythmic clapping of his heavy balls slapping your sopping cock is forever engrained in his mind, sometimes resurfacing at the most inconvenient times - he will be forced to rush home in the middle of an attempted spree just to feel your body against his
_ _ _ _ _
mtf hcs
mikey initially gets scared if you administer hrt yourself with a needle - he knows what happens to rowdy patients who get the needle back at the asylum. however, as he slowly notices physical changes in your body, he'll marvel at your form developing before his very eyes
michael chases the sensation of having you pressed up against him while you're wearing clothing he's gotten you
he loves you feeling pretty whenever you're on top, tucking your hair behind your ear and using his thumb to swipe his cum off your chin
he will make you do your makeup before you fuck, needing you to feel as beautiful as possible while he absolutely destroys your hole - lipgloss smeared, mascara running, hair mussed and bruises all over your hips. he views you as a goddess, so expect him to make you feel like one
when you guide him to take your balls in his mouth, he'll eagerly suckle on them then return to your tip for his reward, eager to lap up your arousal with obscene slurping noises and proud huffs of satisfaction
he has a small shrine of your panties he's borrowed, keeping the ones with the dainty floral details for 'creative inspiration'
mikey gently squeezes on the back of your neck when preparing to take you from behind - he cannot simply cum from you squirming in impatience and grinding into him, he's not even inside you yet (it would be a waste quite frankly)
as his stubble rubs you raw whenever he eats you out, prepare for the bubbling heat beneath your skin to return tenfold whenever he fucks your thighs like a madman
_ _ _ _ _
sorry if writing quality dropped, this took so long lmao. art the clown is next btw, look out for that.
thanks for reading. lmk if you liked it. if i got anything wrong, don't hesitate to tell me.
stay safe.
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hiorisgf · 1 year
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↪the different ways the boys don't let you pay.
↪What's on your mind?: Actually I myself don't know where I'm going with this too. Heh.
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Boyfriends who, whenever you're about to pay for something using your own card—he's always there to slap your hand away and give the cashier his instead. Where did you get the idea that he'd let you pay for even a single one of your outings? Well either way, you ought to wipe that thought away because he'll make sure you won't even get the chance to hold your wallet since e this man's already paid for everything. Bastard is unecessarily agressive in the way he refuses to let you pay like bae, why does he have to look at you like you just said the most offensive thing to him in his entire career of living when all you just said is 'let me pay'😭😭
Itoshi Rin, Itoshi Sae, Chigiri Hyoma, Barou Shouei, Kurona Ranze
Loverboys that Immediately gets the wrong idea. Baby thinks he's done something wrong when you offer to split the bill. Like sir. What😃. WHY WOULD YOU EVEN THINK THAT. You have to assure him that he hasn't done anything wrong and that you just want to lessen his expenses because the dates have got to be expensive. Especially with how fancy the places he takes you to are 😭 But after you assure him that he's fine, that you aren't mad at him and all that, and he finally understands what you mean—this cute little bastard dares to go and give you the sweetest smile humanity would ever witness and lovingly tell you, "No."
Isagi Yoichi, Mikage Reo, Niko Ikki
Beloved little shits that would never miss the chance to take your wallet and hide it from you if ever an opportunity presented itself. He does it so that when you'd take your wallet to pay for the meal—only to realize that you've lost it, you'd have no choice but to rely on him to pay for it instead. Too busy wallowing yourself in embarrassment and the feeling of guilt, you fail to notice the small smirk that appears on his everloving face as he inwardly celebrates the success of his plans. HAH. YOU REALLY THOUGHT. Ehem. Now, dearest—just take a seat back and relax as he spoils the way you deserve to be pampered <3 (Also if you're worried about your wallet then he'd return it after the date's finished with that shit eating grin of his you'd like to punch)
Michael Kaiser, Alexis Ness, Bachira Meguru, Oliver Aiku
Pretty, loveable liars who'd gladly allow you to pay for the next meal with a smile on his fave. He chuckles and lovingly looks at you as you adorably pump your fists up in the air. Money in hand, you head to the cashier to pay for the two of you when suddenly the cashier decided to be a not so nice person when they reveal with a smile that the gentleman behind you,(which also happened to be your lover) had already paid for yours and his meal. You look at him, utterly and pitifully betrayed. Your lips turn into a pout as you look at him with watery eyes. And for a moment, they actually feel guilty about not letting you pay for this time.
Hiori Yo, Yukimiya Kenyu, Kunigami Rensuke
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rootsofdread · 9 months
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Hi! Can I request Trickster, Michael, Ghostface and Skull Merchant and Bubba with a survivor reader basically being goofy with the other survivors and fucking up gens every 5 seconds because their laughing and can't focus and when they get hooked they make jokes and try to annoy the hell out of the killer? And when it's time to escape they drop their stuff for the killer and leave cause they thought it was a fun match? GN reader pls :)
my first bubba request!! i loved writing him for you 🥺🥺
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Bubba Sawyer / The Cannibal:
Bubba knows being in the Entity’s realm isn’t pleasant; it’s been a long time since he’s seen anyone have fun. So in all honesty — he kind of enjoys seeing you all have some fun. He’s the first to run over when he hears several explosions in a row from a generator, because he’s almost certain that it’s you, and he could always use a good laugh. You’re the first person in an even longer time to really make him smile, he loves getting to spend time with you during trials and he especially loves getting to laugh with you. For one trial, he can forget that he has a job to do. He can focus on you instead. His favorite thing is getting your gifts after the trials — he gets so excited seeing you leave something for him. He especially loves toolboxes, so he can work on his chainsaw, but he loves everything you give him. He always looks forward to seeing you again.
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Michael Myers / The Shape:
Michael doesn’t really understand how or why you’re so comfortable being so…yourself in trials. It’s such a foreign concept to him. Everyone else is so focused on staying alive, but you, you’re…you’re out in the trials having fun, and laughing. He likes to sit and observe you from afar. You usually try to get him in on the joke, come on over here, Mikey, we’re all having fun, but he just shakes his head. Sometimes he gets closer to you and just looms while you and your fellow survivors cry laughing over your antics, exploding the generator you’re all working on at any possible turn. You’ll never get that done. He may seem judgemental, but really, he’s just…watching. He finds it entertaining, in a way, seeing some of you have fun here. He even feels a bit special when you take the time to leave him your things; he doesn’t necessarily have a use for them, but…it’s nice.
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Danny Johnson / The Ghostface:
Danny is likely the only one that would be willing to join you in your antics; he seems to love a good laugh just as much as you do. Particularly, he loves either sneaking up on you by ending up just behind your shoulder and waiting to see how long it takes you to notice him, or by sneaking up on a teammate and not only waiting to see how long it takes them to notice, but also making gestures with his hands to try to get you to laugh, too. He loves how much fun you are — everyone else is such a buzzkill, he can’t imagine why, of course, but you just love to have fun here. You’re always laughing and smiling and making everyone else do the same, and it has him utterly smitten with you. You’re his favorite survivor to hang out with, and it absolutely delights him when you leave him your items at the exit gates. He takes everything you give him, and it’d be safe to assume he’s amassed a collection…somewhere.
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Ji-Woon Hak / The Trickster:
Ji-Woon is a loose canon — for a long time, you were never sure how he would react to you, because it was almost always different. Sometimes he seemed annoyed by your antics, or amused, sometimes he completely ignored you and went for someone else; sometimes he was particularly bloodythirsty and you were his first target. It was always a toss-up. Over time, he gets more used to you and your shenanigans — he less feels the need to kill you for them and more just lets you have your fun. As long as you’re not specifically giving him problems, he doesn’t seem to really care. Sometimes, even, when he passes by you looking for someone else, he gives you a little smile or giggle, indicating he may just be amused by you now. And every time you leave him an item, you see him take it, and later, when he sees you outside of a trial, he hands it back to you with a genuine autograph.
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Adriana Imai / The Skull Merchant:
Adriana, truthfully, will have none of it. She knows you won’t give her a challenge and she seems to not care much for that fact — she tends to leave you alone during trials and let you have your fun, slowly picking off your team members instead. Sometimes, she’ll give you a look when she passes by you, silently telling you to do something. Run, scream, hide, give her something to hunt you for. Yet, she seems almost flustered when you look back at her with that big grin on your face. She tends to let you go, too, always responding with you’re no fun if you ask her why, but you’ve always considered, perhaps, she has a soft spot for you. She’d never admit it. She does accept your items at the end, though. She knows she can find uses for them.
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rae-pss · 3 months
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what if.. self aware whb seraphim🤸🏻‍♂️🕳
masterlist
˗ˏˋ꒰ 💭 ꒱ . . . sorry for the delay with the request (😭), i couldn't find myself liking what i wrote multiple times. i hope you like it, dear anon (<3). ˗ˏˋ꒰ 💭 ꒱ . . . lowercase intended, 502 words.
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the atmosphere had become different so abruptly. 
the old, almost millenary, tradition of killing every one of the descendants of that damned sorcerer had given food for thought to all the inhabitants of heaven.
from one day to the next, the usual task of eradicating the lineage that shared genetics with solomon didn’t go as they all wished it did. not when the screen-emerging seraph's gaze met that human’s own eyes, in that instant something changed.
despite the growing feeling in his chest, one that screamed at him not to hurt them, gabriel knew what his job was and, without hesitating for another second, he took out his scythe and with a single swing cut down his target. later finding that another human protected them with his own body, and that one of the seven kings of hell, satan nevertheless, appeared to help them too. 
“bothersome…”
eventually, he had to return to heaven, but not before branding their body as future food for the angels.
once up there, away from all the lower impurities, there was nothing and no one to help him avoid the growing pressure in his chest, which he had no choice but to credit to the non-death of that damn descendant whom he didn’t manage to devoid of life as he should have. without further ado, the seraph headed to where his other two companions, so to speak, were waiting for him to hear how his mission went.
his surprise was, nothing more and nothing less, that both michael and raphael had also started to feel that "something" like him around the same time frame he had. 
nonetheless, despite all the coincidences that one could discern, no one wanted to give it importance; not when their minds were more focused on how they were still standing in nowhere else than hell.
thus, the passage of time made itself go by. 
few days in which that feeling only knew how to expand and become noticeable when one of their holy gazes met theirs, when they were close to their figure when their voice was directed at them... on those occasions, and after their rare repetitions, something in the seraphim genuinely awakened.
how many decades have passed since something like that arose inside them? how was it that that feeling that only he gave them had returned? was it, if anything, that human who gave them such a feeling? impossible, simply unthinkable. a mere human being, even if they were the offspring of a sorcerer as powerful as solomon was, couldn’t do that... right?
that's when one by one, gabriel, then raphael, and lastly michael, began to realize small details around the descendant, details that revealed what all the angels, especially the three seraphim, began to suspect.
they were a vessel, a puppet that someone superior to them used to communicate with them all. 
it was then and there when the real war began between heaven and hell. a war that would end once their holy hands were on that human, the beloved vessel of the higher being, of the new god.
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genericpuff · 2 months
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I wonder why christian misrepresentation are rarely talked about if compared to other religion misrepresentation. Like, I've seen people really vocal about Greek myths misrepresentation in LO and such (and it's valid because it's a culture and religion) but I rarely saw the same thing with christian even though there are many media who use christian religion innacurately, to the point where it comes off as using it as an aesthetic and not a proper religion.
Is it because of rampant religious trauma especially in western world? No ulterior motives on this question. I'm not a christian and yet I'm curious about this. I apologize if this sounds harsh.
I obviously don't have The Answer(tm) to this but personally speaking (and I'm about to get VERY personal here so take this with MOUNTAINS OF SALT), I think it's just the obvious - Christian mythology is one of the most well-documented and strongly protected out of virtually any other religion on the planet. Especially here in the West, it's commonplace for kids to go to Sunday school, for couples to have Christian weddings even if they're not practising Christians themselves, even the American anthem references the Christian God. It's simply not as easy to 'misrepresent' it because the representation is written into our very fabric of society. Even Greece itself is primarily made up of Orthodox Christians.
So anyone that does 'misrepresent' it are either completely mislead hardcore Christians, or people who are doing it intentionally, such as with the intent to make a parody of it or to deconstruct it through a different context or whatever have you. And of course, people will still get mad at those things, if you're implying that people aren't vocal about Christian misrepresentation then frankly IDK what to tell you there LOL If you want a contextual example in the realm of webtoons, Religiously Gay was dragged to hell and back during its launch for having a very crude and insulting depiction of St. Michael, and frankly, yeah I don't disagree because what the fuck is this-
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(like at best it's just terrible character design lmao that said, there's also plenty else to criticize Religiously Gay for, including its fetishy representation of gay relationships and the fact that it's still just the "naive person who looks and acts like a child hooks up with mean person in a position of power" trope, blech, but the character design is definitely the first thing you notice)
There are even plenty of hardcore Christians who will deadass claim "misrepresentation" over things that ARE factually correct but they just haven't read the actual Bible and simply cherry pick what works for their own agenda. And of course those people are routinely called out by people like myself who know for a fact that Jesus wouldn't have promoted the war crimes that many modern day Christians are committing and justifying today. So it really depends on the definition of "misrepresentation" here.
The issue specifically with LO and Rachel that I personally call her out for (and many others) is that she's called herself a "folklorist" and claimed she's so much more knowledgeable on Greek myth than anyone else, while making a complete mockery of the original mythologies while not being honest about her intent as to whether LO is actually supposed to be a legitimate retelling OR a parody (because it sure acts like the latter more than the former, but she still seems to expect us to take it seriously and consider her knowledge of Greek myth superior?) Which leads to a lot of her teenage audience claiming shit like "Persephone went down to the underworld willingly" and "Apollo did assault Persephone in the original myths actually" and the classic "why would Lore Olympus lie or make up fake myths?"
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You just can't pull off this extent of erasure with Christian mythology because we have a whole ass book of it that's been preserved, sold on shelves, and systematically integrated into society for thousands of years. Of course, there are people who will still try their damned best to twist the Bible to match their own bigotry with the whole "Jesus hates gays" bullshit (he would never), but it's met with equal amounts of 'misrepresentation' that are actually fully well-read and are intentionally subverting and changing things to either critique, parody, or restore the original intent of a lot of stories in the Bible without all the manufactured right-wing crap.
Greek myth, on the other hand, has some stories that are well preserved, and others, not so much. And in the modern day outside of the poems and hymns, you'll also rarely, if ever, see anyone use stories from Greek myth to ostracize, torture, and murder other people. "Misrepresenting Christianity" is more often done by actual Christians who are using the Bible to commit hate crimes than the people who have actually read the Bible and are just taking creative liberties with it for the sake of deconstructing / parodying / analyzing / subverting it. Veggie Tales "misrepresents" Christian stories because obviously Moses wasn't a fucking cucumber lmao but it still accomplishes its goal by retelling Christian stories in a way that's fun and educational for children.
By comparison (on the whole, I'm not comparing LO to Veggie Tales LMAO) LO just isn't clear in its intentions beyond Rachel's initial statements that she was trying to "deconstruct" the myths, while labelling herself as a folklorist. Therefore, I'm going to criticize how she does it because the way she's done it up until now has been very mishandled and has resulted in a lot of misinterpretations of the myths simply for the sake of fandom. And yes, these people exist in Christian media as well - they're called TV evangelists.
And that's my (very heavy) two cents.
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vintageshanny · 4 months
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Waiting for Love - Part One
He’s a Married Man
I felt inspired and started a brand new series! It’s a bit different from anything else I’ve done, and I’d love to hear your thoughts and feedback! ❤️
Content: Story starts in summer of 1970, marriage problems, infidelity, smut (lighter in this first chapter but still there), fun Elvis-y things, 18+
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Early July 1970
Vivien walked slowly past the Graceland gate on her way home from work. She always told herself that if she didn’t actually stop and wait, she wasn’t one of those crazy obsessed fans. She was just a normal curious person. Who walked five blocks out of her way every day in a pathetic attempt to catch a glimpse of Elvis Presley. There were a few other fans milling about, but it was too hot for a huge crowd. Right as she was about to cross over the driveway entrance, a big black car came roaring down the street, barely slowing to turn into the drive where the gate was starting to open. Vivien’s jaw dropped open as Elvis himself leaned out of the passenger window with a big smile.
“Hey, honey, didn’t mean ta scare ya. Got a crazy driver here,” he said, pointing a thumb over at the stocky man behind the wheel. Elvis gave Vivien a quick glance up and down and smiled again. “Were ya waitin’ for me?”
Vivien smoothed out her knee-length skirt and quickly glanced down to make sure none of the buttons on her short-sleeved blouse had popped open. She was always having trouble with that third one down. The one that would reveal the most, of course. So far, so good. “Oh, um,” she stumbled over her words. “I, um, was walking home from work, but it is nice to see you though.” Her face turned red as Elvis chuckled.
“It’s nice ta see you too, honey. It’s too hot ta be sittin’ out here talkin’, but why don’t ya come to the movies with us t’night,” he said it as more of statement than a question. “A group of us are goin’ to the Memphian. Just come in the side door at 10:00 and say Joe invited you.” The driver rolled his eyes at this, but neither Vivien nor Elvis seemed to notice.
Vivien tried in vain to keep her cool as she exclaimed, “Oh, wow, okay, I’d love to.” As she pushed her glasses up on her nose, she made eye-contact with Elvis right as he was also adjusting his own tinted glasses. They both laughed, and Elvis gave her a little wink.
“Okay, honey, I’ll see ya t’night,” he called out as the car continued up the winding driveway. Vivien was pretty sure her smile was lighting up the whole city as she continued her walk home.
As soon as she got inside her apartment, she picked up the phone. “Roxanne, I need you to come over right now. It’s a fashion emergency.” Ten minutes later, her best friend arrived at the door from her apartment two buildings down, panting and out of breath.
“I got here as fast as I could! What’s going on? Hot date?” Roxanne asked as she barged in and flopped on the couch.
Vivien bobbed up and down excitedly as she squealed, “I’m going to the Memphian with Elvis Presley!”
“What?! When?!” Roxanne exclaimed, jumping up from the couch and then sinking back down onto it in shock.
“Tonight! I told you my walking by the gate every day would pay off eventually,” Vivien announced triumphantly. “And you have to go with me! I’m sure he wouldn’t mind; he said it would be a big group.”
Roxanne’s face dropped a little bit. “I can’t tonight!” she wailed. “Michael made us reservations for this fancy anniversary dinner, and he’ll kill me if I bail on him. Especially for another man. I’ll just have to live vicariously through your stories about the night,” she sighed dreamily.
“Has it been one year already? I didn’t know you had it in you,” Vivien teased.
“Oh, very funny, goody two-shoes,” Roxanne retorted. “At least I’ve had something in me.” Vivien blushed at that dig. She’d always been holding out for something really special. “Speaking of that,” Roxanne continued, “are you gonna try to hook up with him tonight?”
“Who? Elvis?” Vivien asked with shock.
“No, the pope. Of course Elvis! He invited you personally, he probably thought you looked cute in your little secretary outfit,” Roxanne said with a knowing wink.
“N-no, he-he’s a married man,” Vivien sputtered out. “I’m just excited to be around him and maybe talk to him. I bet he’s so interesting to talk to.”
“Hmm,” Roxanne tutted disapprovingly. “Well, I think you should go for it. I heard that marriage has been on the rocks since the beginning anyway,” she said as Vivien shot her a look. “I’m just saying, you could be waiting in the wings. Now let’s find you something to wear.”
*************************************************
At 9:55pm, Vivien stepped off the bus two blocks from the theater, feeling severely overdressed in a low-cut sparkly cocktail dress and red kitten heels, her wavy dark brown hair pulled back off her face with a jeweled hair clip. Well, that’s what she got for asking Roxanne’s advice. She should’ve known she’d be sent out into the world looking like a good-time girl. Roxanne also told her, in no uncertain terms, that she was not to wear her glasses. Despite the fact that she wouldn’t be able to see the movie, or probably even recognize Elvis from across the lobby, she followed the advice and tucked them in her purse before heading toward the side door of the theater as instructed.
A red-headed man was acting as some sort of security guard right outside the door. Vivien told him she was invited by Joe and he held the door open for her to go in. She was surprised to find that the side door led directly into the darkened theater. Patton was just starting. She squinted down the aisle looking for any familiar faces but found nothing, so she nervously sat down in an empty seat, wondering if she would even see Elvis at all. Her nerves, plus the fact that everything on the screen looked fuzzy, made it hard to even focus on what was happening in the movie. She decided to sneak out to the lobby and see if the concession stand had anything that might settle her stomach, which had been doing flip-flops since she stepped off the bus. She rose and quickly scurried down the aisle, trying not to block anyone’s view of the movie.
Vivien pulled her wallet out of her purse to pay for her 7-Up and noticed she had brought a copy of Khalil Gibran’s The Prophet, one of her favorite books. She decided maybe she’d just find a spot to sit and read until the movie was over. Maybe she could catch Elvis’ attention on his way out. She wandered the little lobby looking for a spot to sit and ran right into Elvis coming out of the bathroom. His driver from earlier was standing next to the door. Vivien thought maybe she imagined it, but it looked like Elvis’ face lit up when he saw her.
“She is here!” Elvis turned to Joe and glared at him. “I told ya ta bring her ta sit with me when she got here.”
“I told Red to let me know when she got here! I said she had long dark hair and glasses…” Joe’s voice trailed off as he realized Vivien no longer matched his description.
Elvis started laughing as he realized what the problem was. “Why’d ya take your cute glasses off, honey? How’s anyone supposed ta find ya?”
Vivien smiled shyly. “Bad advice from a friend, I guess,” she said, fishing in her purse for her glasses. “Plus I didn’t know you’d be looking for me.”
“Hey, whatcha got there? The Prophet?” Elvis asked excitedly, noticing the book peeking out of her purse.
“Oh, yeah, I never go anywhere without a book,” Vivian admitted, feeling silly. Elvis looked at her, his eyes literally twinkling with delight.
“That’s one of my favorite books! You should come visit me tomorrow, I’d love ta talk to ya about it.” Elvis had now moved so close that their arms were touching. Vivien could hardly breath, so intoxicating was his presence.
“Are-are you sure?” she asked. “I mean, I’d love to talk to you more, but I don’t want to impose.”
“It’s no imposition, honey, I’m always up for some good conversation. Plus the guys’ll be busy tomorrow, right, Joe?” Elvis gave him a pointed look, letting him know they should make themselves busy. “I’ll be wantin’ some company. You don’t want me sittin’ there all lonely, do ya?” Vivien felt goosebumps raise on her skin as Elvis ran the backs of his fingers down her upper arm.
“No, of course not,” she whispered, suddenly unsure of exactly what he was asking. “I’d love to keep you company.” She felt embarassed at how flirty she was being with this married man, but she also couldn’t seem to stop smiling at him. It was all so surreal. Elvis pulled her in a for a tight hug, his arms wrapped all the way around her so that his fingers were brushing along the sides of her breasts. The affection he displayed had her weak in the knees.
“I’ll see ya tomorrow, honey. Come by around three. After breakfast,” he smiled and gave her a peck on the cheek. He started to walk away and then quickly turned back, asking, “What’s your name, dear? In case ya try ta go incognito again.”
“Vivien,” she said with a smile. “What’s yours?” Elvis tilted his head back and let out a loud burst of laughter before walking away. Vivien was floating so high that she almost didn’t wonder why he no longer wanted her to come sit with him. She supposed he’d found a new seat mate when he thought she wasn’t there. Maybe his wife?, she wondered. But then why would he be looking for me?
After the movies were over, Vivien hoped to say goodbye to Elvis again, but he was surrounded by fans, and she felt silly interrupting. She observed that he was affectionate with almost everyone, and worried she had read way too much into their conversation. Does he even really want me to come over? Since he had insisted, she decided it would be rude to not show up, but she tried to get her expectations in check. Plus, he’s a married man, she reminded herself.
*************************************************
The next day was Saturday, thank goodness, because Vivien had given no thought to her work schedule when agreeing to these outings. She wondered if Elvis even kept track of the days of the week like normal people had to. She had already decided not to call Roxanne until she got back from Graceland later. She didn’t want anyone else’s thoughts getting in her head; she was confused enough on her own. Unsure of what to wear or how fancy she should look, she decided to just be comfortable in some black capri pants and a red and white striped shirt that hugged her body in the way she liked. She slipped on some sandals, grabbed her book and purse, and headed out the door.
It was much more pleasant outside than it had been the day before, which was a relief. Vivien thought how awkward it would be to show up with sweat dripping down her face. Whoever was at the gate must have been expecting her, because they opened it right away and told her to just knock on the front door. Elvis answered the door himself, wearing crisp white pants and a satin-y red shirt with arm garters. His feet were bare, which made her heart flutter for some reason.
“Vivien! Perfect timing! I just finished gettin’ dressed,” he smiled. “Come on in.” He led her into a beautiful living room with a massively long couch. She noticed a framed photo on the coffee table of him, Priscilla, and their cute little daughter.
“You have a beautiful family, Elvis,” she commented when he noticed her staring at the picture.
“Oh, thanks,” he said, sounding a little dismissive of the compliment. “‘Cilla’s out of town right now. She went to visit her parents with Lisa.” He seemed to be answering a question that had been hanging in the air, unasked. Vivien just nodded and tried to look like this fact didn’t both excite and worry her.
“I brought my book. Is there any particular chapter you wanted to talk about?” she asked, hoping to guide the conversation away from absent spouses.
“All of it!” he said excitedly. She noticed he had a copy sitting on the coffee table as well. “Sit down and make yourself comfortable, honey. You can take your sandals off and just set your feet here.” He indicated the space on the couch next to him. Feeling a little self-conscious, Vivien curled up so that she was leaning slightly away from him but her bare feet were next to him. While they talked, Elvis would occasionaly rest his hand on her ankle or rub his fingers absent-mindedly over the top of her foot. It was very soothing. He didn’t seem to be aiming for anything more, just a soft, gentle affection. When the phone rang, he excused himself and said he’d be right back. He seemed slightly agitated when he returned.
“What’s wrong? Is everything okay?” Vivien questioned, noticing his tense demeanor.
“Yeah, honey, ever’thing’s fine,” he drawled. The butterflies in Vivien’s stomach flew into overdrive at the way the word “honey” always dripped off his tongue like the sweet sticky substance itself. Elvis sighed and continued on without any prompting, unable to keep his frustration to himself. “It’s jus’ ‘Cilla, she’s always got-got-gotta be so suspicious of me,” he vented, his irritation clearly growing. “She c-c-can’t believe I’d jus’ be talkin’ ta someone about books and stuff that she’s not even interested in. It’s always gotta be somethin’...nefarious with her,” he emphasized each syllable of “nefarious” and rubbed the back of his neck as he leaned back next to Vivien on the couch.
She swallowed nervously and nodded, trying not to be distracted by the way his chubby penis flopped loosely against his thigh when he leaned back, clearly uncontrained by any underwear. She actually wasn’t sure if it was chubby, but it looked like it would be, and she’d been sneaking enough glances at it to feel like she had an idea of what it would look like if he exposed it to her…Vivien was pulled out of her less-than-wholesome thoughts by the realization that Elvis had followed her eyes down to his lap and seemed to be reading her thoughts as if they were comic strip bubbles showing next to her head. Instead of the bravado he sometimes exuded, Vivien was surprised to see him blush and rest his hand on his lap in a way that blocked her view.
“W-w-where were we?” he stuttered, thumbing through the well-loved pages of The Prophet, pretending not to notice the way Vivien’s racing heartbeat seemed to make the whole couch shudder with desire.
“Don’t be too hard on her,” Vivien blurted out against her better judgment, causing Elvis to look up in surprise, his mouth slightly agape. “I mean,” Vivien began to ramble nervously, “if I were, um, if you and I, I mean,” she fought back at the tears of embarassment that were welling up in her eyes and started again. “If I had you, I wouldn’t probably like you talking to another woman much either,” Vivien cringed at her awkward wording. “I’d want you all to myself all the time, especially to talk about things you’re so passionate about,” she finished with a whisper, looking down nervously at her red-painted fingernails.
Elvis nodded his head slowly, considering her words. “W-w-well, ‘Cilla ain’t like that though. She ain’t interested in these things. Sometimes I feel we have nothin’ in common…” his voice trailed off sadly as he seemed to be contemplating all his life decisions in this moment. Then his soft lips tugged up into a crooked smirk and he looked over at Vivien slyly. “How often do ya think about havin’ me?” The bravado was back.
Sneaking just the tiniest peek back down at his crotch, Vivien racked her brain for a witty answer that wouldn’t sound ridiculous and came up with nothing. “It sure looks nice out,” she quickly changed the subject with a glance out the window.
“It sure does, honey,” Elvis chuckled. “We should take a break from the book and go for a swim.” Vivien flushed at the thought of seeing Elvis’ body in just some swim trunks.
“Oh, um, I don’t have a swimsuit with me,” she explained as he sized her up appraisingly.
“That’s okay, dear, I think I have somethin’ for ya,” he said, jumping up and hurrying upstairs. He came back five minutes later with a beaming grin and a little red and white polka dot bikini. “I bet this’ll fit ya okay.” Something in his cheeky grin told Vivien that he wouldn’t be too upset if it didn’t fit quite right. It looked very tiny.
“Oh, Elvis, I can’t wear your wife’s swimsuit,” Vivien protested, but he had clearly already made his mind up.
“It-it’s fine, honey, she ain’t gonna miss it. She had ten of ‘em up there, brand new, I jus’ cut the tags off.” Elvis grabbed her hand and pulled her along to the room leading out to the pool area. He nodded to the changing area and told her to just meet him out at the pool when she was ready. Vivien wriggled herself into the little suit and nervously eyed her reflection in the full-length mirror. Everything essential was covered, but a soft little roll of skin was squeezing out from the suit bottom, her butt felt too exposed, and her breasts were spilling out slightly from the molded cups on top. She bit down on her lip, trying to make a quick decision. If she got right in the water, the ill-fitting suit wouldn’t be too noticeable. She decided it would be much more embarassing to have to get dressed again and go tell him that the suit was too small.
Elvis let out a low whistle from his lawn chair as soon as she stepped outside. So much for sneaking right into the water, Vivien thought as Elvis jumped up and circled around her. Her heart started racing at the sight of him in little red swim shorts and a striped shirt. She sinfully wondered if there was any chance of something flopping out the bottom of the shorts.
“Damn, baby, I like the way you fill that suit out,” Elvis murmured as his eyes stayed a second too long on her overflowing bikini top.
“It’s a little too small,” Vivien couldn’t stop herself from pointing out.
“Nah, honey, it looks perfect.” That crooked smile sent the butterflies on another flight. “Now the rule is, to enter the pool, ya have ta go off the diving board,” Elvis announced with a mischievous smile.
“Oh, I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Vivien responded, thinking of all the body parts that could come flying out of her suit upon impact with the water.
“C’mon, Vivien,” he teased, giving her bare sides a little tickle with his long warm fingers. Her skin felt on fire from his touch. “Don’t be a party pooper. I’ll even go first!” He peeled off his t-shirt, causing a strange tingle to shoot through Vivien’s core, tossed it aside, and sprang into a messy dive, his long legs flailing a bit in the air. He surfaced, spitting water in the air like a fountain and beckoning her to come in. Vivien set her glasses on a little table by the chair, walked gingerly until her toes were at the edge of the diving board, took a deep breath, and plunged in, hoping for the best.
As she came up for air and pushed her dripping wet hair out of her face, she caught the flustered look on Elvis’ face that made her realize that her fear had come true. She glanced down to where his eyes were fixated on her chest, his lips hanging open slightly as his tongue subconciously slipped out and licked them. Vivien let out a little yelp when she saw that one of her nipples had escaped out of the bikini top and she quickly moved to tuck it back where it belonged. She covered her face in embarassment as Elvis swam closer to her. He pulled her hands down from her face and drew her into a gentle hug.
“Hey now, honey, ‘s okay. I wasn’t even lookin’...too much,” he said, trying to stifle a laugh as Vivien swatted at him.
“It’s not funny, Elvis, I’m embarassed,” she whispered, unable to look him in the eye.
“Aw, honey, you ain’t never gotta be embarassed around me. And it’s jus’ us here, okay? Good thing all the guys had errands to run today, ‘cuz I want ya ta save that show only for me, okay?” Vivien finally smiled a little at that and nodded. “Would it make ya feel any better ta see my nipples?” Elvis joked, pushing his chest out in an exaggerated fashion. Vivien laughed and blushed as she eyed his torso, willing her eyes not to keep going down further, but that little trail of hair leading down past his belly button was just so enticing. “Hey, my nipples are up here,” Elvis teased, catching her under the chin with his tanned fingers. Vivien’s head was swimming at how flirtatious things had gotten since she’d admitted that she had thought of… “having him.” He’s a married man…hold it together, Vivien, she whispered inside her head. As if sensing her nervousness, Elvis quickly changed the subject, pulling her over to lean against the wall of the pool. “I’ve been talkin’ your ear off all day about my problems. Tell me somethin’ about you, honey.”
“Um, well, I’m 21, I work as a secretary at a law firm, I was named after Vivien Leigh,” she started out tentatively, wondering how much Elvis was really interested in anything about her life.
“Really? Vivien Leigh?” he exclaimed, his rapt attention giving her the confidence to continue.
“Yeah, my mom really loved Gone With the Wind,” she said with a laugh. As she talked about her family, Vivien took note of how Elvis’ eyes and nose crinkled up so cutely when he laughed, how the drying hair of his sideburns curled up and tucked into his ears, how the hint of gray at his temples sparkled in the sunlight. As he reached over and brushed a stray hair out of her face, a little shiver ran through her body.
“Is the wa-wa too cold, honey?” he asked, looking concerned. “Lemme help ya onto the ledge here so you can warm up in the sun.” He lifted Vivien onto the ledge and leaned in between her legs as he sat her down. “That better?” She nodded and her breath caught in her throat as she stared down into his sparkly blue eyes. “Vivien, you are beautiful,” he whispered as he leaned in and pressed his pillowly lips to hers, slipping his tongue gently into her mouth. As he moved his lips down to the soft skin of her breast that was spilling out of the bikini top, her brain was screaming at her to stop him, but she couldn’t stop her body from responding to his every touch. He pulled the cup down a little bit, popping her nipple back out into the warm sunshine. Vivien let out an involuntary little gasp as he touched his tongue to her nipple and then sucked it into his mouth. As he rubbed his thumb over the saliva he left on it, he whispered, “See you ain’t gotta feel bad around me at all, honey. I ain’t gonna hurt ya.” He tucked it back into her top before leaning his head down and kissing her thigh. “Mmm, honey, you are drivin’ me crazy in this little suit. I see your cute little beaver wants ta come out and visit me,” he murmured as his fingers traced up Vivien’s inner thighs and rubbed gently at the dark wiry hairs escaping from the elastic of the bikini bottoms. Elvis hooked his long index finger into the elastic and tugged it to the side. He let out a groan as he slipped his fingers through the wetness. “You’re glistenin’ for me, Vivien,” he said with a smile.
“Elvis, I, um, ohhhh,” Vivien let out a load moan as Elvis slipped a finger inside of her. He tried to pump it, but her whole body seemed to tense up and his finger was meeting too much resistance. “Elvis, I’m sorry, um, I’m,” she started to explain her embarassing lack of experience, but Elvis shushed her gently. He straightened her suit out and pulled her back into the water, into his arms.
“Shh, ‘s okay, honey. You’re a good girl ain’t cha? I can feel it,” he whispered as he rubbed her back soothingly. “We ain’t gotta do anything you don’t wanna do.”
“It’s, it’s not that I don’t want to. It’s just, um, I care about you Elvis. I don’t want to be something nefarious for you. I want to be something good.” Elvis looked a little shocked and - delighted maybe? - that someone would care enough about him to reject him, in a way. There was a warm glow on his face as he looked at Vivien tenderly.
“Can we jus’ be friends for now then? I really love talkin to ya, honey,” he said softly. “And, like I said, we ain’t gotta do anything you ain’t ready for. I jus’ want your company.”
Vivien nodded and looked up into his eyes. “I’d love to be friends. I think you’re a really special person,” she added, causing Elvis to blush.
After they were dressed and saying their goodbyes, Elvis promised to give her a call to come back and talk about the book some more. He leaned down and pressed a soft sweet kiss to her lips. “Not nefarious, just friendly,” he whispered as he pulled away with that lopsided smile. Vivien smiled and nodded, even as the gentle poke from something firm and definitely chubby below his belt told her that wasn’t quite true. And next time, she wasn’t sure she’d have the wherewithal to stop him from exploring her in any way he wanted. She walked away from the mansion feeling giddy, confused, thrilled, and terrified.
Tag List (please let me know if you want to be added or removed): @whositmcwhatsit @lookingforrainbows @arrolyn1114 @thatbanditqueen @missmaywemeetagain @ellie-24 @be-my-ally @from-memphis-with-love
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ao3cassandraic · 4 months
Text
As far as they can
At the end of the Job minisode, Crowley inaugurates Their Side by proclaiming Aziraphale "an angel who goes along with Heaven... as far as he can," parallel to his own stated relationship with Hell.
Only it... doesn't actually work that way. Their exactlies are different exactlies.
Crowley defies and lies to Hell as often as he thinks he can get away with it. He never disabuses Downstairs of their misconceptions about his contributions to human atrocities. He cheerfully lies in his reports Downstairs, something Aziraphale briefly turns on his Baritone of Sarcastic Disapproval about in s1. Crowley even turns evil homeopathic in the latter part of the 20th century, likely in hopes that it will look good to head office while accomplishing essentially nothing. (This, of course, is another way he Crowleys himself, both with the London phone system and the M25.) After Eden, Crowley's default given an assignment from Hell is to see how he can subvert it.
Aziraphale, on the other hand, defies Her and Heaven as little as he possibly can. Sometimes, as with his sword giveaway, his compassion gets the better of his anxiety. Sometimes, as with Job's children in the destruction of the villa, he can try to stay within the letter of the law by leaving the defiance to Crowley.
His default, however, is "'m 'nangel. I can't dis- diso -- not do what 'm told." This comes out most often as respect for the Great/Divine Plan, which to him is sacrosanct. He sounds quite sincere in s1 when he says "Even if I wanted to help I couldn’t. I can’t interfere with the Divine Plan."
Aziraphale quite frequently Good Angels along by parroting Heaven's party line, whether it's "it'll all be rather lovely" or "I am good, you (I'm afraid) are evil" or droning on about evil containing the seeds of its own destruction, or condemning Elspeth's graverobbing as "wicked" (a stance he offers absolutely no reasoned support for, no logic, no "but She said," not a word -- that's very Heaven; most of Heaven's angels have the approximate brainpower of paramecia). Maestro Michael Sheen even has a particular voice cadence -- I think of it as Sententious Voice -- he uses when Aziraphale is thoughtlessly party-lining.
When the angel's conscience wars with his sense of Heaven's orthodoxy but (and this is an important but) he can't feasibly resist whatever's wrong, he offers strengthless party-line justifications he clearly doesn't agree with (as with the "rain bow" in Mesopotamia) or resorts to a Nuremberg defense: "I'm not consulted on policy decisions, Crowley!" Once or twice, he's even vocally aware of Heavenly hypocrisy: "Unless… [guns]'re in the right hands, where they give weight to a moral argument… I think." This isn't Sententious Voice. It's I-can't-disobey-and-I-hate-that voice.
But at base, the angel prefers obedience (not least because it's vastly safer), and he'd rather have someone else do his moral reasoning for him. Honestly? Pretty relatable. I know lots of people like this -- hell's bells, I've been this person, though I grew out of it somewhat -- and I daresay you do too. Moral reasoning is hard and often lonely (since it can be read as self-righteousness or even hypocrisy) and acting as it dictates can hurt. Nobody would need ethics codes if The Right Thing was also invariably The Convenient Thing.
Many GO fans find these Aziraphalean traits frustrating! Especially his repeated returns to parroting Heaven orthodoxy! Sometimes I do too! (Not least because I'm rather protective of my own integrity, and it's cost me quite a few times. I'm well-known in professional circles for picking up a rhetorical spear and tilting at the nearest iniquitous windmill. I often lose, but I sure do keep tilting. Every once in a blue moon I actually win one.)
The key, I think, to giving our angel a little grace on this (beyond honoring the gentle compassion that is pretty basic to his character) is noticing how often he can be induced to abandon an unconsidered Heavenish default stance. As irritating as his default is, and as consistently as he returns to it, it's not really that hard to talk him out of it. Crowley, of course, is tremendously good at knocking Aziraphale away from his default -- he's had to be. But Aziraphale even manages to talk himself away from his default once, in the form of the Ineffable Plan hairsplitting at the airbase!
I think the character-relevant point of the Resurrectionist minisode is making this breaking-the-Heavenish-default dynamic as clear as the contents of the pickled-herring barrel aren't. "That's lunatic!" Crowley exclaims, when Aziraphale Sententious Voicedly parrots Heaven's garbage about poverty providing extra opportunities for goodness. Aziraphale isn't quite ready to let go yet, replying "It's ineffable."
But Dalrymple (who, I think, parallels Heaven, perhaps even the Metatron -- there could be something decent there, but it's buried too deep under scorn and clueless privilege for any graverobber-of-souls to dig it out) manages to break Aziraphale's orthodoxy by explaining the child's tumor.
Once released from his orthodoxy, Aziraphale can't be trusted to handle moral reasoning well; his moral-reasoning ability is not-uncommonly (though not always) portrayed as vitiated. When he gives Elspeth the go-ahead to dig up more bodies, his excuses are just as vacuous as they were when he was convinced of her wickedness. He knows that he's crossed Heaven's line, too, and just as at Eden it's worrying him. That's why he has to talk to Crowley to nerve himself up to help Wee Morag... only he spends too much time talking, and it's too late.
But Crowley can then talk him into bankrolling Elspeth toward a better life. Aziraphale doesn't even put up any fight, both because he's compassionate and because Crowley is temporarily taking the place of Heaven (he's even Heaven-sized and staring down at them!) as the angel's moral compass.
S1 has an even worse example of Aziraphale's moral wavering, actually. Crowley yells "Shoot him, Aziraphale!" and Aziraphale sure does try to murder Adam. Again, he's adopting his morals from the nearest (and loudest) convenient source. Madame Tracy, thankfully, has enough of a moral backbone to save our angel from himself and Crowley.
(With my ersatz-ethicist hat on: this is a fight between utilitarianism and deontology. Crowley is the utilitarian, which is actually a bit of a departure for him, but he's admittedly desperate. Madame Tracy is the deontologist: One Doesn't Kill Children. Aziraphale is caught in the middle.)
I wouldn't be surprised if part of the reason we start s3 with Aziraphale and Crowley separated is so that Aziraphale finally has to do his own moral reasoning, without Crowley's nudges. I don't think it'll be easy for him. It will absolutely be lonely. And it may well hurt.
But I will watch for it, because it's how he will become his own angel, independent of Heaven and even of Crowley. And he must do that.
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ingravinoveritas · 7 months
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| NTAs red carpet 2021 vs. Pride of Britain red carpet, 2023.
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kit-walk3r · 10 months
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The Evans as parents
Here’s something a little different 🙈 Enjoy!
Tate
I hate to break it to people but Tate would not be too involved as a dad
He’d probably be one of those dad’s who pops up every once in a while to do something fun then drops the kid back off at home and disappears for another 6 months. Obviously he can’t do that because he’s, ya know, dead but you get the vibe
Ooo, maybe Halloween is the day he does something with his kid. Since he can leave the house Tate goes somewhere, maybe the park, and meets them and they spend the day together before Tate has to go back to the house. Honestly it’s the child’s favourite day of the year and even though they do notice that their father never ages they don’t ask questions because they’re just happy to be with their dad, and Tate is happy to be with them (since it’s just one day he can have fun with them without full parental responsibilities)
⬆️ If the kid isn’t Satan. If that child is anything like Michael then Tate isn’t interested and will continue spending his days being miserable in the murder house
Kit
Isn’t it obvious? Father of the year
Kit spent a good few years as a single father between Grace and Alma’s deaths, Jude moving in (and then dying ☹️) and remarrying and let me tell you, he was the best father to those kids there could ever be
He’s mother and father to those kids. He does everything for them. He makes their lunches for school every morning, braids Julia’s hair, cooks them dinner, makes sure their clothes are washed and ironed etc., everything a mother is expected to do. He plays games with them both in the backyard, as well as with their trucks and dolls, he helps them with their homework, reads them bedtime stories. Anything those kids ask him to do he will do
When he remarries Kit is hesitant about going back to sharing parental responsibilities because he’d spent so long being the sole parent to Thomas and Julia but he slowly lets that go and welcomes you to into the family as a mother figure to the kids
He’s still the only one allowed to braid Julia’s hair though
Kyle
Kyle tries to be the best dad he can be. He didn’t have a great relationship with his own dad since he walked out on him and his mum (which Kyle hates him for since it was a catalyst for what his mother did to him) so he wants to offer his kid a much better childhood than he was given
He doesn’t have the money to buy them expensive gifts or take them on days out or vacations but he tries to make up for that in any way he can. Almost every weekend is spent out doing something that is free, like park or perhaps a museum when they’re older. He just wants to give his kid fun memories that will stick with them
Kyle’s a young parent, barely twenty, with not much life experience so he’s not perfect and he’s going to make mistakes. He has some days where he acts more like a brother than a dad which can often lead to some trouble but he’s doing his best and that makes him a good dad
He completely cuts ties with his mother after his baby is born. He can’t allow her in his life anymore when he’s caring for someone so vulnerable
Jimmy
Jimmy’s probably the most scared of being a dad, mostly because he’s scared that his kid will have hands like him and will face the prejudice and hate Jimmy has faced his whole life and that he won’t be able to protect them from it
His kid has his hands? Jimmy will teach them from day one that they have nothing to be ashamed of and that there is nothing wrong with them. He’ll instil into them that they should be proud of who they are and that they’re special.
His kid doesn’t have his hands? It sounds mean but Jimmy can’t help but feel a slight bit of relief knowing that they won’t be subjected to the things Jimmy was growing up. He’s still as protective over them as he would be if they did have his hands (especially if they’re a girl) but there’s other things he has to worry about (like someone breaking his little girl’s heart because Jimmy is that sort of a father)
Jimmy would make sure your family live a stable lifestyle. No travelling all over the country as a spectacle like Jimmy did growing up. No, you’d all live in house in a nice, safe neighbourhood where the kid(s) can make friends and have a fun, happy, loving life
James
The child would be his pride and joy but let’s be honest, James is rich and from the 20s. He’d have someone else do most of the parenting
James has plans for the child to become his little protege once they’re old enough and he wants to show them all the perfect ways to kill someone (like how he taught the other serial killers from Devil’s Night)
Even if they were just a few months old James would talk to the child as if they were an adult. He refuses to do baby talk and finds it demeaning. No child of his will be spoken to in such a way
Would definitely name that child after himself if they were a boy. James March Jr. If it’s a girl you can choose, he doesn’t necessarily care
Rory
The ‘fun parent’
Rory is essentially a big kid himself so the most caretaking he does for that child is playtime, and at the most inconvenient times. You’ve just got them settled for bed and then Rory comes in and suddenly there’s a game of hide and seek or tag playing
Rory uses his kid to help him rehearse for auditions. If they’re a baby then he’ll just sit them in front of him whilst he practices his lines and pretend they’re the casting director but if they’re older he’ll give them a copy of the script and have them play the other part
Rory will invite his kid to set all the time, much to the director’s frustration. He says it’s because they want to see what their daddy does but it’s really because he likes to show off to them, but also give them a fun day. He’ll let them meet all the other actors and stuff, give them a really fun day
Rory is definitely the type of parent who does matching halloween costumes with his kid
Kai
Kai finally has his Messiah baby
He has a rota for all the girls of the cult to take turns taking care of the child as that’s the woman’s job
He will spend time with the child and will be their dad but he won’t do any of the actual proper parenting stuff. He’ll occasionally read a bedtime story but it will be about some cult leader or something else traumatic which really isn’t appropriate for like a 4 year old but Kai decides that the kid needs to be toughened up straight away
Although he’s quite angry with everyone else, Kai tries to keep his temper to a minimum around the kid. He still clearly resents his own father and the anger and abuse he inflicted on the Anderson family and although Kai has very questionable morals he doesn’t want to be such an awful figure to his child and cause any sort of emotional hurt that could have a lasting effect on him
Austin
Even if he wasn’t taking the pill Austin would have enough inspiration from his child, who would become his muse
This kid would be so impeccably dressed, all their outfits would be perfect every single day. Austin is a fashion icon, why can’t his kid be?
Austin’s self control gets a little better once he becomes a parent. Kids are very accident prone so Austin has had to deal with his fair share of cuts and bruises, meaning he’s had to learn to control himself around blood so he doesn’t do anything stupid (like suck the blood out of their finger like Harry did)
When he’s taken the pill and is writing a new play Austin can be a little… distant. Not neglectful, just that he is so focused on his play that everything else around him is kind of irrelevant? It’s not as if he leaves the kid alone, they’re being looked after obviously, but they’re just not his number one priority when he’s in writing mode :// when he’s not writing he’s the complete opposite and that child is his world
Austin and his kid definitely do karaoke together. Move over Belle, baby Sommers is Austin’s new partner
Peter
Peter’s like Rory and is the fun parent. Remember what he was like with Billy and Tommy in Wandavision? He’s like that 24/7 with his own kid
Good luck if that child ends up a speedster like Peter. They’ll rarely be around. Peter will be racing them all the time. Sometimes he’ll let them win and then act really sad that he’s been beaten by his like 7 year old
If his kid doesn’t have super speed then once they’re old enough Peter will run around with them on his back to make them feel better about it. He even gives them their own mini goggles so they can feel more like dad 🥺
Yet another Evan character with daddy issues who wants to make sure he’s there for his kid since his dad was never there for him
Colin
Colin’s not necessarily the fun parent but he’s the softer parent
He’s the parent the kid will go to whenever they want something because they know he’ll say yes. He’s kind of a pushover like that. He can’t say no to them. He tries to, honestly. He tells himself ‘no more. I’m not letting this kid walk all over me’ but fails every time. All they have to do is pout and suddenly Colin is down $20 or is driving the kid somewhere you’d not let them go
He does have his stricter moments, but they’re rare. If the kid does something pretty serious then this side of him comes out and he will be dishing out punishments like grounding them but he hates doing it and feels awful afterwards, even though he knows it has to be done
He’d do anything for his kid and has considered quitting being a cop just so he can be at home and see them more. Honestly, he kind of struggles being a cop after becoming a dad anyway. He thinks about some of the stuff he’s seen in the past and knows he wouldn’t be able to stomach that if he saw it now he’s a parent
He’s pretty protective, but not overbearing. He’s seen how cruel the world can be and just wants his child to be safe
Dad!Colin fic based on this here
A couple of these I feel like would make cute fics. Would anyone be interested in me fleshing some of these out into oneshots? Let me know!
Taglist: @jellyluvr @howtobesasha @dewberryobssesed @luv4evan @kaismanwich @violetharmonstwin @daylas-life @mariefics
Want to join my taglist? Just reply here!
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akuvvv9 · 6 months
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no bc i am CONVINCED something happened between Mike and Will between season 2 and season 3 and here’s why.
The first scene we see of them together is on the movie date at the cinema. (Also, why show Mike noticing something is up with Will in the first place? Will doesn’t even confide in him about what he’s feeling, so why? It’s unnecessary unless they want to show us something about Mike and Will. And if it’s to show Will’s feelings for Mike through lip glances, WHAT ABOUT MIKE???)
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Mike looks at Will’s lips while asking if he’s okay, meaning he had been already looking at him since Will hadn’t made any noise or drawn any attention to himself before Mike talks to him. There are many many many scenes of Mike looking at Will’s lips to the point that it’s a meme. 
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But then, look at Will. We all know Will is in love with Mike, has been for a while he just didn’t fully realize it until some time between season 2 and season 3, and didn’t accept it until some time between season 3 and season 4 (just in my opinion, this is flexible based off of your own perspectives and understandings). Either way, he has always been more discreet, looking when Mike isn’t looking at him in contrast to how Mike checks Will out both when he is and isn’t taking notice.
(Another thought, if we were supposed to pick up on the fact that Will is gay by the fact that he wears shorts shorts, BARELY EVER checks Mike out, is told “it’s not my fault you like girls,” and has been bullied for being queer, what does this say about Mike? Sure, he doesn’t wear short shorts, he wasn’t bullied for being queer except in regards to Will’s queerness, THEN it was always directed towards Mike, and Mike is always checking Will out and I’m gonna keep saying that because people are blind, and the fact that he even said that to Will in their rain fight was so out of nowhere like…what have you been thinking about when you’re alone? Huh? (i know what you are Michael Wheeler.) Then what? The only difference between the two is that Mike has a girlfriend, who he can’t even tell he loves to her face. Just saying. And I know Mike is queer coded in a different way than Will, but he also has all that proof I listed above and probably more. Moving on lol…)
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Here’s some of Will looking at Mike in the arcade in S2E1 and in the grocery store in the fruit section S3E7. I don’t need to show examples for Mike because I’m sure we can all think of a bunch off the top of our heads. Will is a little harder to catch though.
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Even in season 4 when we all KNOW Will has feelings for Mike, his glances are more discreet, we just see it more often because we are supposed to be aware he’s in love with Mike. So why, just why, does Will glance at Mike’s lips TWICE in the cinema. He knows Mike can see him because they’re talking, Mike is facing him, looking at him because he’s worried and is checking up on him. You could argue it’s because it’s dark, but their faces are illuminated by the screen, so it’s still a bold move on Will’s part. He knows Mike is looking at him and makes the decision to look at his lips twice when he’s usually so good at looking only when Mike can’t notice he is because he already has the subconscious feeling that he is in love with Mike, and that it should be a secret. Especially with what he’s always been bullied for by both his own dad and people at school. He’s learned to hide, which is funny because we all know how good at hiding Will is. 
Mike on the other hand, bitch has been checking Will out since the very beginning. When Will tells Mike the roll was a 7, Mike just stares at him. He doesn’t even give a proper response, which is out of character for him. If it were Lucas or Dustin (who wouldn’t of told him the truth in the first place), he would have said something, like actually anything. But with Will, he doesn’t. He just stares at him. 
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We also know Mike & Will have a deep understanding of each other where they don’t need words to communicate. They finish each other sentences a lot, and in the 7 scene, when Will says, “it was a 7,” Mike furrows his brow. Will knows he’s asking a question without needing any verbal response, so he answers. And even then Mike doesn’t answer, just stares and watches as Will bikes away. (Kinna LGBTQ if you ask me).
Their ability to converse silently with little looks only adds onto the fact that Will thought he was picking up on something after season 2. He doesn’t need to be explicitly told by anybody that Mike is starting to realize things about himself and his feelings for Will because nonverbal communication is what the two have always been best at.
Back to the cinema date, it’s not weird for Mike to be checking Will out because he’s always been doing it. It’s also pretty brief in the movie theater, like he’s doing it with no thought behind it because it’s what he’s always done, so what’s the harm?
Now, for Will, he not only lip glances twice but it’s a longer gaze. A little linger. There is clearly something between them that only Will is reacting to because Mike is preoccupied trying to act straight with El. Maybe some hope that he could be grasping onto something between them.
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Later, Will tells his mom he isn’t gonna fall in love. He doesn’t scowl or have a disgusted tone compared to when he saw proof of Jonathan and Nancy’s love. He probably believes that he’s not gonna fall in love, or get reciprocated love, for many reasons. He’s realizing he’s gay, he’s realizing Mike is special to him, he’s realizing that he is also special to Mike, but he says he won’t fall in love because even if he does, even if he’s realizing he’s also special to Mike, Mike can’t love him back because he has El. 
Which is why I believe something happened between them some time between season 2 and season 3. It’s clear that El can’t hang out with the party with the way it’s established how she has a curfew and how Mike reacts to her being at the mall with Max.
Also, Dustin was away at summer camp for a month. This means Mike and Will were left alone with the other canon couple in the party, Lucas and Max. Mike and Will spent a lot of time together, and probably picked up on a lot of signs they were attracted to each other.
The differences between how they reacted to that are hidden between their families. Despite being bullied for being queer, Will has Jonathan who is seen supporting Will and his “freakness”. However, Mike doesn’t have anyone like that. He’s probably never seen his parents be in love. The difference between him and Nancy is that Mike is a boy who likes a boy and Nancy is a girl who likes a boy. So Mike hides in his girlfriend to avoid the feelings he knows he has for his best friend.
Anyway, the reason why Will decidedly looks at Mike’s lips when he knows he’s looking, why he lingers and does it twice, is because that he felt okay doing this action for once since Mike did something to make him feel like he could. 
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Then later, on S3E3, we get the Byler rain fight scene. At first, it really is all about their friendship and how Will feels left behind. But after Mike says, “It’s not my fault you like girls,” the gears shift in Will’s head. We then focus a lot on his face. He doesn’t say anything, meaning we are supposed to be reading something just from his expression. He looks hurt, for obvious reasons, but also like he wants to say something back but he can’t. And it’s noticeable how quiet he is after Mike says that in comparison to how much he was talking before. He thought Mike and him had something that summer, that those lip glances and nonverbal signs and cues meant something, but then it all comes crumbling down once Mike says those words. Will wants to say something, maybe about how he thought he had a chance, how Mike made him think he did, (or maybe even “What the fuck, Mike!?” because…wtf Mike,) but then he realized he didn’t.
This is further backed by what Will says in response to Mike talking about them playing games in his basement forever. “Yeah. I guess I did. I really did.” Because he really thought there was the possibility of that, thought he was picking up on something, but Mike’s words made him realize he didn’t. He was just projecting his own romantic feelings onto the scenario. He’s upset at Mike and himself for being so stupid, stupid for different reason though.
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Only fools rush in, and in this moment, Will believes he is the biggest fool of them all. 
SOMETHING HAPPENED BETWEEN WILL AND MIKE EARLIER THAT SUMMER AND I KNOW IT. 
or maybe i’m delusional because it’s 2am
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lorimnnn · 2 years
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Mine (Michel Myers x AFAB!Reader)
summary: before Michael was ever ‘The Shape’ of Haddonfield, he was just a boy. he was a boy in love with the girl across the road, his sister’s best friend--- the only girl to show him kindness, love and warmth. you. 
Basically, Michael falls in love with his sister’s best friend at 6, who sometimes played emergency babysitter especially when Judith was fooling around with her bf. He clings to those memories growing up in the asylum until the day he breaks out, where he decides the first thing he wants to do is find you and keep you, your sunshine only for him. Reader is super girly and feminine, which just fuels michael’s possessiveness. 
cw: gore, violence, kidnapping, obsession, manhandling, possessiveness
1 | 2 | 3 | 4
~
Michael remembers the first time he saw you in perfect, vivid detail. 
When things get bad at the asylum, he closes his eyes and remembers, and sometimes it feels like he’s really there all over again. It’s like he’s four all over again, sitting on the sofa with the TV turned on, squashed between Mom and Dad. They still loved him, then. They act differently now, so remembering is like remembering different people. 
But everything was different. 
He remembers the door swinging open so roughly, it smacked the wall with a bang. In strolled Judith, and after, you. And he couldn’t stop looking at you. 
“Judith! I swear to-”
You, frowning at something Judith was saying, quickly schooling your expression when you noticed Michael and his parents. An uneasy smile settled over your face as you turned to his sister and glared that little bit. You looked so fierce. He’d wondered what you were warning her about with that look, because Judith had passed you a smile so smug back. A smile that said trouble of all sorts of alarming degrees, but that was Judith. And that trouble would later become Danny. 
This is where Michael started to get a little distracted. It all starts to come back when he remembers-
Back to you. 
You were so angelic back then. His parents had loved you. Judith, while often mistreating you and taking your kindness for granted, was protective of you for as much as her selfishness would allow. That wasn’t much. It wasn���t long until Danny burst into the picture and whenever you were available and their parents weren’t, he was kicked out into your house. But that wasn’t so bad. He liked your house. 
And he liked you. Loved you. 
Not in the way he loved his mom and dad, or the way he loved Judith, even if he was sometimes so mad at her he thought he hated her. But loved you. There were no words to describe it. 
Anyway, the first time you came to his rescue he’d been sitting on that same sofa. Judith had told him to stay down there as she wondered upstairs with Danny. He didn’t like Danny. He dragged her upstairs and weird noises started punctuating the silence, and they sounded like they hurt, but the door was locked when he checked. And Judith had screamed at him to leave, so he had, and reassumed his spot on the sofa all over again. 
You walked into the house a moment later. You must’ve heard her yelling. 
The walls were thin. 
“Hey, Mikey.” You knelt down in front of him. “Why don’t you hang out with me for a little bit?”
“Why?”
“It can’t be all that fun sitting down here all by yourself. Judy is having her own fun.” You casted a sharp glare at the ceiling. It creaked with movement in response. “Why don’t you come to mine? I still have all my toys from when I was a kid. I’ll let you play with them, or we can play together, if you want.”
He didn’t like toys too much. But he liked you. 
So he let you take him by the hand and lead him out the door. Your hand was warm. So soft. It was all he could think about. He didn’t even process it until he was sitting on your pink bed, the fluffy pink duvet pillowing his sides. Everything was pink. Your walls. Your furniture. The toys you were talking about, which ended up being in a pink box you dragged out from under the bed and showed him. He was interested in them for about two seconds until he saw you approach your vanity and start poking and prodding at your face with those little tools. 
You were pretty. So pretty. 
And Michael was mesmerised. 
When he thinks about it now, he realises that you were supposed to go out. You were all dolled up and prettier than usual, so pretty that it was almost dangerous. A hazard to other boys. Boys like Danny, maybe? No. No no no. You picked up your phone a minute later and dialed a number. 
“Sorry, but we’ll have to reschedule! I know, I know. I’m sorry. Things came up. But I’m hanging out with my most favourite person in the world.” You winked. “Hm? Oh, don’t worry about that. But call me when you’re free next time, okay?”
Those words had meant nothing. All he’d heard was that he was your ‘favourite person in the world’, and he’d fixated on them, obsessed over them, replaying them over and over again until he was a hot, blushing mess. But all he could do was blush. He was your favourite person? You were his favourite person, too!
He ended up returning home when Danny left. 
He ended up going back to your’s every time he came back. He didn’t care. He was delighted. You would watch movies with him and eat ice cream and cuddle under a blanket. He liked the last part best. Sometimes, he would pretend he was asleep just so you would let him lie there, close to your breast with his head tucked under your chin, your hands stroking through his hair. 
“Mikey?”
“Mmh?”
“Nevermind, go to sleep. Long day, hm?”
“Yeah.”
“Of course. Life must be so stressful,” you would tease. 
Michael would just play along with a very high-pitched, whiny, “yeah, I’m so tired.”
Each and every time, you would cancel all your plans to be with him. He could tell you were getting sick of it. He really, really hoped you weren’t sick of him. 
Because he really liked your cuddles. 
But all good things came to an end, didn’t they? Of course they did. Your mom just had to take you on a holiday and leave him all alone with Judith, who was just going to do what she would’ve done the first time. Ignore him. Choose Danny over him. And she did. 
Well, then she died. Or he killed her. Same thing. 
Then he went to Smith’s Grove. He didn’t really feel anything towards it. Not good, not bad. It was alright. It just was. The only time he ever missed home was at night when it got cold, and all he could think of was how much he missed being cuddled up in your arms. How warm you were. How soft you were when he leaned his head against you, the perfect pillow. He missed you so much. 
He would think about you all the time. 
As the years passed, he would think about how you changed. If you grew up at all. What you looked like now. If you would still love him like you did when he was a kid, before everything happened. Of course you would, wouldn’t you? He was your most favourite person in the world. 
Right?
As he grew older, those thoughts descended into uglier ones. Not once did he think of killing you, so no, no that type of ugly. But ugly in ways that sapped at the last of his shame, his sanity, what was left of his fractured humanity. He was sixteen when he first wondered if you would like doing with him what Judith used to do with her boyfriend. He was sixteen when he first touched himself to the thought of you, his movements clumsy and inexperienced. Grinding his hips into the bed when you possessed his dreams, palming himself desperately when he was reminded of you at random, inopportune times. Who cared who watched? Who cared who saw?
All he wanted was you. 
According to everyone else, he was incapable of emotion, let alone sexual desire. Those were two things he knew that nobody would dare to associate with him. And they weren’t wrong. He wasn’t capable of emotion. He wasn’t capable of sexual desire. That was on a general basis, anyway. 
But you weren’t everyone else. You were you. 
And he wanted you. 
But that was the thing. As he aged, he was beginning to realise that if he really wanted something, he could have it. It was all so easy. 
And he would have you. 
~
Haddonfield is... Well. It has memories. 
Maybe it isn’t your wisest idea to move back, after all that happened. Losing your best friend. The little boy you used to babysit sometimes turning out to be the culprit behind her sudden death. Sometimes you blamed yourself for it.
The police had said it’d been coming. He probably felt neglected. Lonely. 
If you hadn’t gone with your mom on that holiday... 
Ugh. Ew. 
You hate having sombre thoughts like that. Does it help you’re cleaning out your mom’s place after she passed? No, it really doesn’t. But nobody else was going to do it. Fuckers. And they had the audacity to say that they loved her, cared for her, appreciated her. Seemed there’s no reason to keep up the pretences now that she’s not around to check up on it. While they may be in the mourning phases, it really isn’t an excuse. So are you. 
Yet here you are. 
The neighbourhood is basically deserted. It makes for eery quiet as you meander about, boxing up your mom’s old stuff and scouring through the little nooks and crannies where she liked to hide things. Sometimes it feels like you’re breathing too hard. Moving too loudly. Everything feels like too much. Maybe you’d cry if you had the energy to. 
Now, this place is... It just is. And it isn’t. You realise maybe you’re the only one who came in not because you’re the least cowardly, but the most brave. 
Because this is not just the place your mum died. Not just the neighbourhood where once upon a time, a little boy committed his first act of insanity. It’s the place where just a few months ago, Michael Myers was taken back to the Sanitarium after a Halloween spree. There was no telling when he’d come back. It all seems so random, the motivation too vague to pick out, his acts too gruesome to discuss. As someone who knew him, it’s nothing short of a bad idea to be around. But it’s for your mom. 
At least, that’s what you tell yourself. 
You were in the bar when the crowd silenced, and the news boomed into the room with chilling fervor. 
‘Breaking news, clinically insane serial killer Michael Myers, nicknamed ‘The Shape of Haddonfield’, has escaped for the second time from Smith’s Grove Sanitarium. Five found dead and severely mutilated. While his predicted path is unclear, residents of Haddonfield are warned to be cautious and call the authorities immediately if any suspicious behaviour is seen. Police will be on high alert. Stay safe.’
You knew in that moment that you were so, so fucked. Somehow you also decided that would have been the best moment to drink yourself stupid, hook up with some other blackout drunk fellow, and pretend none of that happened. 
It’s been a week since the announcement. Police have been patrolling the streets. More than once you’ve received a few knocks on the door, asking if you’ve seen or heard anything. Those come around almost everyday, since you live right across where he used to. Every time, you say the same thing. 
‘No. I’m just here for my mom. I’ll be out soon enough.’
You’re lying. You’re lying through your teeth. 
Logically, you know you should leave. He’ll come back for Haddonfield. You know it. Everyone knows it. There’s no reason for him not to. 
And he’ll come back for that house. The one across yours. 
He might even come back for you. 
But winning over your logic side is the stupid part of you that denies it. That still can’t believe that little boy became that horrid man, when just days before he killed Judith he was sleeping against your chest watching cartoons on the TV. Putting makeup on his face because he wanted to do what you were doing. Watching you doll yourself up each and every time with red-faced admiration. He’d been so innocent. 
It’s just... It’s inconceivable that he became whatever he is. A monster. A nightmare. Something of both. 
So maybe it isn’t really denial that he’s coming. More so denial that he won’t touch you. 
And it’s so arrogant, and it’s so selfish, because you’ve seen his picture on the TV and he’s nothing short of terrifying. 
It’s your arrogance and selfishness that you cling to when you hear the floorboards creak behind you. 
---
GUYS I POSTED THIS LITERALLY FIVE MINUTES AGO, LIKE DUDE OKAY OKAY PART 2 COMING SOON
since it’s a side blog i can’t reply to ur notes, if you drop your name in tho i can tag you for when pt 2 is out! (either that or follow hehehehehee)
BUT Y’ALL OMFG-
also pls reblog! It really helps boost my post!
:)))) <3
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Just saw that you opened the ask for slasher fics and immediately i have to ask this soo...
Michael myers with a VOICE KINK and maybe with a bit of breeding kink? I just think these kinks just fit mikey lol (us being the dom one ofc) 😏😏😏😩
Michael Myers x male reader
Headcanons
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Anon, your mind.
-          Michael wouldn’t fully know he had a voice kink until he met you, maybe it wasn’t even anything he truly noticed.
-          Then maybe one late night he returned after being out and doing what he does, and you wake up because he crawls into bed with you, and you talk to him a little bit before leaning in to kiss him.
-          He hears your voice all croaky from sleep he’s like “huh,,, well that’s something” because it makes him all hot and bothered. He ends up just laying awake for a while thinking about it, and how your voice has always affected him, but he just didn’t notice.
-          After that he truly starts to notice, and it affects him more since he has accepted that its something he finds very attractive. Michael has started wearing his jumpsuit with the upper part wrapped around his waist in an attempt to hide how much it really affects him.
-          He would also listen closer than before when you speak, especially when you’ve just woken up or if your voice is deeper or rougher than usual.
 -          You wouldn’t notice in the beginning how much your voice seems to effect Michael, since he is as stoic as ever though you do notice he starts to wear his suit differently, but you don’t really question it.
-          It only really hits you one night when the two of you are getting down and busy. You have Michael on his back with his legs around your waist, his hands over his head and gripping onto the pillows and sheets like a lifeline.
-          He’s still wearing his mask, as he always does, but you can see his eyes much closer this way. Michael has never been a loud man but he’s panting and groaning softly as you thrust into him.
-          At some point you can’t keep the dirty talk from spilling from your lips, at some point leaning down and speaking near his ear, just saying the filthiest things you could. Your voice was rougher than usual, slightly raspy, from a slight cold.
-          After leaning in to growl something dirty to him, Michaels body seemed to freeze up and his back arched in a way you had never seen before. Not only that but he keened, loudly, as he came.
-          His legs around your waist pulled you even closer, making sure you finished inside of him because hearing Michael respond so vocally pushed you over the edge.
 -          The two of you stayed pressed close together until you finally pulled back, looking down at Michael with wide eyes.
-          He was panting and slightly sweaty, his chest rising and falling. His hands were shaking slightly with how hard he was gripping onto the sheets, and he couldn’t seem to meet your eyes.
-          After catching your breath, you asked Michael what happened, voice light with wonder because this has never happened before, you had never left Michael shaking and catching his breath like this before.
-          Michael still wouldn’t meet your eyes and you had a feeling he was blushing, especially when he turned his head to look in another direction. You pout and lean in close, asking in closer to his ear what had gotten him so excited.
-          When Michael shivered when you spoke into his ear it seemed to click what happened, and you couldn’t help but grin to yourself, though you decided not to tease him since Michael seemed embarrassed.
-          Leaning in you pressed kisses to his masked face and told him you didn’t mind at all that he found your voice attractive, and that it was actually pretty hot. You couldn’t help but let your voice drop a few octaves to whisper a few dirty fantasies to him, just to feel him shiver and clench around you.
-          Michael ends up gripping onto you and flipping the two of you over as you have both gotten hard again, his eyes looking slightly wilder than usual as he decides to ride you within an inch of your life, not that you mind.
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