#michael townely fanfiction

[rreskk]

Hiii

How about a threesome with Trevor x fem!Reader x Mickey for a one-night stand ? 👀

Don't know if they could be competitive 🤔

Great idea! I've never done something like this before so sorry if anything lacks clarity or unclear. Enjoy!

Summary: A supposedly drunk hookup with Michael Townley ended with a second bang.

TW: -Smut

Pairings: Michael Townley/Fem! reader/Trevor Philips

Word count: 2357

North Yankton – 2002 – A motel located within Ludendorff

Michael Townley, the guy you were originally drinking and hooking up with, brought you back to his humble motel room.

It was a poverty-stricken room. The TV was static, the wallpapers were faded and stained with unidentified substances. It was a needful environment; desperate for maintenance and updates. There were two beds centred near each other. Michael used the nearest one; the cleanest one. The other one was messy. It had needles and pipes scattered across the duvets, a pool of dried up blood permanently marking the two stiff pillows. Michael mentioned – No. He protested that it wasn’t his mess (someone else’s, someone present), whatever that meant…

But that didn’t matter, not as long as you were hardly sober.

When you both stumbled forward, your fingers pathetically looped with each other. The intensity was louder than the movements in the bathroom as two hard footsteps shook the surrounding floor. It took your undying attention but Michael insisted it was nothing, ripping off your clothes and grasping at your curves drunkenly, not realising that it wasn’t just nothing.

Someone was there.

It wasn’t alarmed yet. You were both kissing with tongues and groping each other’s bodies before seeing an amused grin from a deranged looking stranger that huddled the other bed, claiming the junk and drug-fuelled massacre.

Michael was on top of you, kissing the skin of your neck as you made eye contact with this man. He looked aroused, but also very VERY high. His brown, dark eyes were bloodshot and his pupils were dilated extremely inhumanly. He placed a shaky finger to his lips, demanding you to keep quiet as he didn’t want Michael to know of his presence. He just wanted to watch.

There was something so sinister about him. The guy had a messy mullet that struct in every direction, his hair greasy and untamed. When he grinned at you, this weight of his moustache was lifted to present a pair of sharpy and yellow teeth. He hasn’t blinked since you’ve noticed him. He was constantly staring at you, occasionally licking his lips and toying with the bulge between his legs.

You’d subtly gasp to grab Michael’s attention, finding yourself intimated by the audience beside you. As you nudged him with your legs, he sat up with a raise eyebrow until you pointed towards the other bed. Michael looked over and went wide eyed.

“What the fuck – Trevor!”

The other guy groaned at the disruption of seeing you both get at it.

“Don’t stop on my account, Mikey. You got yourself a heartbreaker, ay?” Trevor smirked at you with his morbid teeth.

“T, the fuck you doing here? Brad said you were out for the night.”

“I was out for the night, I got back an hour ago… Then you two love-birds decided to show up and keep me company, hm? Ain’t that right, sweetheart? What’s your name?”

The question made you shudder. The way he chewed his tongue in attempt of charming you despite the cruel look in his face.

“Leave her alone,” Michael covered your naked chest with his duvet, “She don’t want you around, neither do I.”

“I wonder what Amanda would think of this, am I right?” Trevor carried on tormenting with his lips twitching at the effects of whatever drug he’s on. He suddenly scowled when your breasts were out of his sight, making the atmosphere more hostile.

“Who’s Amanda?” You sheepishly asked.

T’s eyes softened at your confusion. There was a flicker of empathy before it switched off when Michael opened his mouth again.

“She’s no one, darling. Listen – Fuck, I’m sorry. I didn’t know this idiot would be here.”

Your thigh was still being caressed during his “truthful” apology. The gesture was happening from under the cold covers, away from Trevor’s perverted eyes. There was silence as no one believed Michael’s words, neither did he. You were left lying there before making eye contact with the other man again, being received a smaller but cheesier smirk.

“What’s he doing under there?”

“Nothing.” Mikey quickly said and snatched his hand away from your legs.

“Lies, lies, lies…” Trevor jumped off his bed and leaned over you, his head almost colliding with Michael’s. He was observing your face, neck, collarbone; trying to see at least a snip of your breasts again.

“Trevor, the fuck are you doing? Leave her alone.”

“Ohh, come on… Really? She’s a gorgeous girl… Why can’t we share, hm? Sweetheart, do you mind a bit of Uncle T in the action? I’m a gentle guy.” The drug addict smirked.

In a way, he was an interesting guy. His charming personality was already magic. There was something promising that it made you maintain eye-contact, your heart beating twice as much as it was before. Trevor shamelessly began fondling your shoulder before giving Michael a blank stare; telling him non-verbally that he will participate, even through the objections.

“If you don’t want it, you can leave and I’ll finish her off.” Threatened Trevor until his friend hesitantly sat up, looking at you for consent.

And when you nodded, their eyes both lit up with excitement.

Michael sat up and moved towards the end of the bed, pulling you with him and helping you get into position. You leaned onto your arms – ass hunched in the air, being fondled and massaged in preparation while Trevor crawls towards you. He pressed his back against the bed-railings and arched his lower body, your chin being in proportion with his crotch.

“Just like old times, Michael.” There was a wholesome sense of relief in Trevor’s voice. He was fully fixated on you, brushing some hair strands away from your face, tucking them behind your red ears.

Behind you was the sound of flies being unzipped. You returned to your position and held your glutes up high. Mike placed his hands upon your hips and rocked you into his erection. Without seeing the length, you were flabbergasted at how hard and big he was. Your mouth fell open, staring up at T with glassy eyes while his smirk gets wider. The sight of you rocking back and forth with your breasts shaky and hanging from your chest was the exact awakening for his bulge to throb.

“Ohhhh… Look at you, sugar. Keep your eyes on me, come on girl.”

You followed Trevor’s instructions and sucked in your lips, whining quietly as Michael continued thrusting in and out. You noticed how crazed his brown eyes were. Trevor studied the way your mouth chimed open. His erection pulsed even harder now. It craved the sensation of your saliva. It wanted to be suffocated and tortured by your tongue.

He placed a thumb on your bottom lip and forced your mouth open while shaking down his jeans. His white briefs were exposed and the hardened sight of his damp penis throbbed and twitched. You saw it move from under his pants. The tip was bulging red and there was already pre-cum drooling from the surface.

“Keep your mouth open,” He huskily ordered and exacted his cock from the imprisonment of his clothes. Trevor’s hands grasped the back of your head, roughly holding onto your hair strands and knocked his groin forward, sending the penis into your mouth.  

You immediately gagged.

He wasn’t that big, but he had will-power. T panted at the contact of your teeth with his foreskin. His nostrils flared and he cried out in pleasure.

“Fuck, fuck…” He nibbled onto his lip, “Jesus. Tell me your name, sugar. Choke your name on my fuckin’ cock, you slut.”

Michael was grunting and churning when listening to this interaction. He had his visions glues to your ass that grinded against his length, enjoying the intimate contact (that he doesn’t receive much). You could tell as he was desperate with the thrusts. He was very lively and rigid that pronouncing your name and introducing yourself to Trevor was merely impossible. Mikey was hunched over your back, his hips sloppily slapping against your frame. He had a strong physique so he was naturally heavy handed with his movements – Handling you with authority.

“Shit.” Even his moans were short and stiff. It could easily match how major and serious he felt about this interaction.

You wanted to shout his name, but Trevor’s feisty cock rammed itself in and out of your mouth. Your tongue tried to catch up, only managing to wipe the pre-cum he had gifted you for making him aroused and horny. The hand around your head was also aggressive and hostile. He didn’t have natural power like Michael’s, but it was extremely combative and confrontational.

“Tell me your fuckin’ name, swee – Oh, Oh fuck me. You’re so fuckin’ hot. Mhmmm…” The commands were ongoing. He was belittling you at this point, and you loved it. This guy was seriously unforgettable. May the Lord thank him for interrupting your precious alone time with Michael.

When you thought you were getting used to the pace of both men fucking with you, Mikey decides to speed up. He was throbbing inside you. He was exactly hitting your sensitive patch and you had no time to prepare for the sudden pleasure.

“Mike-“ You strangled on Trevor’s cock. You were beginning to drool, the saliva strands hanging from your chin and lips. He giggled at how needy you were. He’d give his friend a small smirk after your attempt of moaning his name.

“Mikey this, Mikey that… Baby, Uncle T wants to know your fuckin’ name. Come on… Choke it out.”

“[y/n] – Oh! Urgh!”

“[y/n]?” Trevor mimicked your struggle with a grin. He watched you slurp his foreskin, your eyes getting glassier when your words were thrown back up into your throat, “Come on. Louder.”

“I ca-“

“LOUDER!”

You collapsed onto Trevor’s stomach, his cock still adventuring in your mouth. Michael had made your arms fail to hold your strength anymore. You sluggishly fell against the sheets, making him kneel and dig deeper within your sex.

Trevor almost felt jealous at how good Mikey was making you feel. He’d glare at him, his fingers scraping your scalp with jealousy and anger. He had full sights of Townley fucking you nice and good. Trevor watched and grinded his teeth. He decided it was no excuse to slunk and he thrusted his penis into your mouth, lifting up your face and watched how eager you took it. You were intimidated by how angry he was. The way his eyebrows darkened and caused shadows over his whole face. There his lips quivering and screwing up into a petty scowl as he caressed your cheek and hair; this guy was dangerously confusing to read.

“[y/n], fuck.” T growled and urged you faster.

You held onto his thighs for support and felt your climax grow closer.

“I’m gonna-“

“Same.” Cried out Michael who had sweat trickling the hairline of his buzzcut. He went to slow down but Trevor scoffed.

“Woah, hey! Fuck her through the orgasm, you slacker!”

You felt him begin to fasten his face, thankful that Trevor stopped him from stopping. You stroked his thigh and gazed up at him with the cock still buried in your mouth. You wanted to express your appreciation but he seemed to get it, and smirked.

“I’m your favourite, aren’t I? Isn’t that right, [y/n]? Come on… Come on… Fuck-“ He winced, “Faster baby, I’m almost there.”

You bopped your head up and down before Trevor arched his back and gagged.

“FUCK!”

He came all into your mouth, his semen devouring and soaking up your spit and tongue. He was whining throughout the orgasm, threatening to pull your hair with how antsy and static he was.

 You gasped for air after he pulled his dick away, rubbing it raw as cum sneakily ran from the tip away. Trevor looked ruined. His face was scrunched up with pleasure and pain, obviously easy to please considering you only had to haggle his foreskin with your selfish tongue.

He then leaned forward and pressed his forehead against yours, breathing the intoxicating and gruesome odour of his body and mouth upon your face while Michael took his last thrust. You were reaching your climax and moaned until he kissed your lips hungrily, holding a hand against your throat and stealing your speech away. His moustache abused your upper lip. You’ll definitely receive a stubble burn after this.

Furthermore, Michael had pulled out in time to come all over your ass as well. He was wrecked to the point of being bright-red and wheezing for air. His shirt was soaked in sweat, his hand gently caressed your shoulder blades while Trevor pulled away from the kiss, monstrously happy with this outcome.

“Look at you both… Hm? Hot messes, especially you, sugar.” He pinched your chin before resting back and closing his eyes to recapture his energy.

Mikey breathed out, “Fuck… You liked that, [y/n]?”

You nodded your head, absolutely exhausted and amazed at their performances. You’ve never had a threesome before. You were almost tempted to do it again.

“Next time, I’ll fuck you. Mikey’s a bit low on the mutual participation.” Trevor grinned. It was like he read your mind.

“Aww, fuck you.”

“Oh? Then who’d fuck [y/n] over there? Hmm, actually, she’d fuck better than you. Hey, sugar, ever tried a strap on?”

You weren’t sure if he was serious or not. T was such an unpredictable character. You rested your chin on his thigh and looked dazed.

“Too soon? Gotcha. I think you’d be a beast anyway…” He smirked as Michael rolled his eyes.

“[y/n]. I’ll take you home.”

“Woah, hey. Let the girl rest. I like her on my lap.”

“How is he not freaking you out?” Mikey asked you with a frown.

“At least I watch out for her, Mr ‘stopping before coming’. What would you do without me-“

“Stop it, please!” You pled. Their bickering had finally made you lose the plot, “You both gave me a good time. Just let me… Rest, okay?”

Trevor smirked at you, “Say no more. Naked cuddle?”

“Jesus Christ, Trevor. Enough!”

#grand theft auto 5 #trevor philips #gta v #grand theft 5 #grand theft auto #gta 5 #trevor gta #trevor philips x reader #trevor philips/reader #michael de santa #michael townley/reader #michael de santa/reader #michael de santa/you #michael townley #grand theft auto v #grandtheftauto #my fanfiction #my fanfic writing #michael townely fanfiction #michael de santa fanfiction #trevor philips fanfiction #trevor philips/you #trevor philips headcanons

[sapphic-sasquatch]

#sapphic sasquatch #kingdom hearts #kh #fanfic writing #fanfiction #fanfic #kh fanfiction #sora #kh sora #michael mickey mouse #michael mouse #ff gang #squall leonhart #kh leon #yuffie kisaragi #aerith gainsborough #cid highwind #demyx #ienzo #zexion #saix #isa #twilight town trio #hayner #pence #olette #luxord #marluxia #larxene #i should probably mention thisll be a post KH3 thing

[rotting-pulse]

“You’re gay..?”

synopsis: An evening binge of horror brings you and your best friend Michael closer than you thought, unlocking things you both had long shoved down, but perhaps opening a world of new possibilities.

tw: coming out, mentions of homophobia, underage drinking and sex jokes (scandalous i know)

a/n: tried to keep this as accurate to the time period as possible (late 80s) but i know Army of Darkness came out in the 90s. I don’t really care though and i don’t think y’all are expecting perfect details in your fnaf fanfiction.

fem aligned please dni, this is a mlm fic

The bell ringing snapped you out of your dream like state. Finally, the end of the day and the end of the week for that matter. Throwing your bag over your shoulder and pulling on the headphones connected to your walkman you made your way out of the school.

As you walked down the halls and out the front door you couldn’t help but notice the familiar sight of a curly haired boy at the entrance. He was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, then he saw you. He smiled and waved you over. You pulled down the headphones around your head, trying to hide the growing smile on your face. Michael Afton was friend of yours, just that though. No matter how much you two teased each other, at the end of the day you were just friends. Nothing more. 

His voice broke through the chatter of other students, looking over at you and asking, "Hey, you ready for that sleepover?"

Right. You were in such a rush to get home you’d nearly forgotten that you had invited him over. You chuckled though at his question. “Duh. I rented out Evil Dead and Army of Darkness already. Also my family’s gone all this weekend so we’ll have the house to ourselves… you’re free to come over whenever.”

Your parents had told you this morning that they needed to go meet up with some relatives out of town, collecting some documents or something, you weren’t exactly paying attention. They seemed fine with Michael still coming over however, at this point you two had known each other for so long that he was practically family. He always preferred coming over to your place too, he never elaborated too heavily on why but from what you knew his dad was a massive prick. You two had your system, and it worked. A perfect friendship…

His eyes seemed to light up at your words, excitement glittering in their soft blue hue. His kind smile grew even more, the freckled skin around his face crinkling at the strain. ‘God you need to stop staring at his face, you freak.’ The thought had weaseled it’s way in, echoing in your brain like a poltergeist whispering it in. Your gaze flickered to the ground as his smiled once more.

“Shit, that sounds awesome! I’ll swing by in a little bit, just need to grab some stuff from home. Anything I should bring?”

You thought for a moment and shook your head, trying to remain casual. “Nothing I can think of, I’m pretty sure I have everything there already.” 

Michael’s smile seemed permanently etched onto his face as he talked to you, beaming like the sun’s rays. "Alright then, I'll trust your judgment. See you soon." He winks before turning to walk away, his bag slung loosely over one shoulder. 

You sighed and walked in the opposite direction, pulling on your headphones again and focusing on the music as you start your walk home. Any time your mind would wander it would always lead back to Michael. You kept trying to shake it off but it clung to you like a plague that had no cure. You didn’t feel this way about any of your other friends, so why Michael? What made him so special that he seemed to be in your every waking thought? Why did it have to be a guy..?

Before you knew it you were at your doorstep and using the key tucked under the welcome mat to unlock the door and let yourself in. You kicked your boots off at the door and trudged you way inside, throwing your bag down in your room. Walking back out into the living room you sighed and tided up a bit, putting out some snacks and making things look presentable. You got so lost in your thoughts that barely noticed that the doorbell rang, quickly hopping up from your seat you went to open it, welcoming Michael into the house like you had done millions of times before. He took his shoes off and left them near yours by the doorway, going and making himself comfortable in the living room.

He crashed down onto the sofa looking around excitedly. "You've really got everything covered here. This is gonna be epic."

You chuckled and nodded in response, running into the kitchen and opening the fridge to reveal the six pack of beer you had stashed away earlier. Quickly returning back to the living room you hold it up, proudly beaming, “Also, look what I managed to snag us.”

Michael's eyes light up with excitement as he sees the beer. "Oh, you sneaky little devil. That's perfect!" He takes the beer from you and sets it down on the coffee table. "How’d you even manage to get this?" He smirks at you mischievously.

You open one of the bottles and take a large swig of it, sarcastically retorting. “I have my ways. Besides, something told me getting drunk while watching gorey zombie movies would be a great idea.”

He let out a small laugh, “Yeah well, it feels in line with all our other great ideas.”

“What, like when we went to the scrap yard and you decided you could totally just pick up a possum like it was nothing?” You shoot back, a teasing smile on your face as you put in the VHS and grab the remote.

He left out a mock gasp, playfully hitting your shoulder when you sat down on the couch next to him. “In my defense we were in middle school,” he jeered.

You rolled your eyes in response. “Even in middle school I knew not to grab a feral animal. You’re lucky you didn’t get rabies.”

He huffs and settles back on the couch, leaning comfortably against the armrest. "So tell me, have you ever seen Evil Dead before? It's a cult favorite for a reason."

“I’ve seen it more times than I can count. It’s one of my favorites, I mean Bruce Campbell does such a great job as Ash,” You respond. A strange, but familiar sensation creeps into you, a warmth spreading through you chest as he talks. You couldn’t help but steal glances at him, leaning on the other end of the sofa. Something about seeing him so comfortable, the golden light of the sun set reflecting off his face… it made you feel flushed like you had never felt before. You lock your eyes on the TV, trying to hide your face behind your hair.

Michael chuckles softly as he listens to you speak. His laugh echos through your head as if you were trying to savor the sound of them. "I bet you're gonna love Army of Darkness. It's one of my personal favorites." He says with a hint of excitement in his voice.

You laugh a bit, taking another sip of the beer in your hand. “Oh yeah? What, the chainsaw hand turn you on or something?” You tease sarcastically.

Michael's cheeks flush red at your comment, but he doesn't let it show. Instead, he gives you an exaggerated wink and a cocky grin. "Well, now that you mention it..." 

You let out a noise of mock scandal, dramatically clutching onto your chest for dramatic effect. 

He chuckles, shaking his head slightly at your response. "I don't know why you're so surprised. After all, we are men, aren't we?"

You roll your eyes and shake your head at his sarcastic retort. “I guess I just don’t get it,” you laugh. You finish off the bottle of alcohol, before placing it on the coffee table and murmuring, “Then again, I don’t understand a lot of the stuff guys our age are into.”

Michael chuckles and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He looks at you intently, his eyes sparkling with interest. "What do you mean by that?" He asks, his tone seemingly full of genuine curiosity rather than mockery or ridicule.

I glance over at him, pulling my knees up to my chest and thinking out a response. Did you really want to tell him? Tell him that you’re different than everyone else in your friend group? Your voice felt caught in your throat as you spoke, it felt like letting poison into your body, like you were confessing to something wicked and truly evil. “I guess it’s just… I hear what you and the other guys talk about, like the girls at school and whatever. And I just don’t… feel the same way you do? I don’t know how to describe it, but… I don’t think I’ve ever felt that way.”

Michael’s eyes grow wide in surprise, and he seems taken aback by your honesty. He lets out a small laugh and shakes his head, smiling warmly at you. God that smile, it could seem to solve any problems you had. Making you feel instantly at ease, like it was magic or something.

"Well, I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable," he says with a slight chuckle. Then he sighs and leans back against the couch, looking thoughtful. "But I think you're being too hard on yourself. I think everyone feels that way sometimes."

You shake your head and follow his lead by leaning back, staring up at the ceiling. “Don’t worry, you’ve never made me uncomfortable…” Far from it, it seemed as if he was the only friend you could really be yourself around, not have to worry how other will perceive you. When it was just the two of you, it felt like you were in your own little world where the only thing that mattered was the other person there with you. “It’s… It’s nice getting this off my chest. Cause like, I’m sure I’ll feel that way someday, but with my past girlfriends and whatnot, I just… haven’t felt it. I haven’t felt that spark… not with a girl…” The last part seemed to fall out of your mouth against your will. Your brain seemed to hear those words and go into overdrive, chastising you for letting that be spoken, demeaning you for not keeping that locked away like you had this entire time.

Michael's brow furrows in confusion, his expression growing more serious. He stares at you for a moment before speaking. "Wait, you've never been attracted to a girl? Or you've never had any romantic feelings towards a girl?" He asks, his tone sounding more concerned than anything else.

It felt as if a light went off in your brain, everything clicking into place as it dawned on you. The sinking feeling of dread attacking next as all you can do in answer, “…Both. I’ve never been attracted to girls, nor have I been interested in them romantically…”

Michael’s jaw drops open slightly, his eyes widening in shock. He sits up straight, his mouth forming a perfect ‘O.’ He stares at you for several moments before speaking, his voice filled with disbelief. "Wow. Really?"

“Michael…” you pause, trying to formulate the sentence in your head. “I think… the way I’m supposed to feel about girls, is how I feel about guys,” you implied, hoping he’d get the message you were trying to convey.

Michael’s eyes widen further still, and he looks absolutely stunned. He takes a few deep breaths, and then speaks in a quiet, shaky voice. "Are you… gay?" He asks hesitantly, looking at you expectantly, waiting for your answer. His voice sounds incredibly unsure of himself, and he looks extremely nervously.

You can’t meet his gaze, to nervous to see the way he’s looking at you. You didn’t want to say the word, you didn’t know if you could say the word. Your whole body seems to tremble as you nod a bit, your voice shaking as you whisper out, “Y-Yeah… I think I am…”

Michael’s eyes go wide once more, and he looks completely floored. He stares at you for a while longer, his eyes wide and his mouth agape. He seems unable to believe what he’s hearing, and he keeps repeating, “You’re gay?!” over and over again.

It feels as if suddenly the implications of what you said came crashing down around you. You grab onto his shoulders, finally meeting his gaze as you plea, “Y-You can’t tell anyone. The whole school already think I’m a queer, I don’t need their suspicions getting confirmed. And with the way this town is, the way my parents are… if anyone else knows I’m as good as dead…”

Michael’s eyes widen even further, and he looks absolutely horrified. He quickly stands up from the couch, and pulls you into a tight embrace, holding you close to his chest. He whispers into your ear, “It’s okay. Nobody will find out. Not from me, not from anyone.”

You sigh a bit, feeling his arms wrap around. The tension melting away with each deep breath you took until you could finally manage to whisper out, “…thanks.”

Michael holds you close, his hands running through your hair and rubbing your back. He lets out a small laugh, and he begins to rock you back and forth slowly. He hums quietly, a small smile playing across his lips. He leans down, kissing the top of your head. He looks over at you, and his smile grows wider. "You're welcome."

Your brains feels as if it freezes from the sudden intimacy of the moment. You think for a moment, your gaze flickering down to the floor before looking back at him. Was this really how friends responded to situations like this? By holding each other like the were an old married couple?

You hesitantly reach a hand up to brush some of his hair out of his face, stealing a glance at his lips only to look back up at him. He looked heavenly in this light, his soft, sky blue eyes were warm, but hiding something behind them. He was always good at masking what he was thinking, you could guess as to why…

Michael blinks a few times, and he stares back at you with a smile. His eyes widen when you touch his hickory colored hair, and he lets out a soft laugh. He closes his eyes, enjoying the sensation of your fingers in his hair. When you look back up at him, he opens his eyes, and they twinkle with mirth. He leans closer, and he presses his lips to yours. He pulls back after a few seconds, and he looks at you with a grin. He runs his thumb along your cheek, and he speaks in a low voice. "You're amazing."

You pause, taking a moment to enjoy the feeling of being entirely wrapped up in him. It felt as though that little world the two of you had was shrinking in, pushing you together. You slowly raise your both of your hands to grab onto the sides of his face, pulling him in gently for another kiss. It’s a little hesitant but still filled with so much emotion, only breaking away when the lack of oxygen gets to you. If it had been up to you, the two of you would’ve stood there, kissing for an eternity. But as you pull back, gazing up at him, you can’t help but mutter, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that…”

Michael smiles widely, and he reaches up to cup your face in both of his hands. He leans forward, and he presses his lips to yours once more. He breaks away after a minute or two, and he looks up at you with a soft smile. He runs his hand through your hair again, and he speaks in a low voice. "I think I might love you."

“I…” you hold back a chuckle, leaning into his touch with a warm smile, “I think I might love you too…”

#michael afton #micheal afton #michael afton x reader #micheal afton x reader #micheal afton x male reader #michael afton x male reader #michael afton x you #micheal afton x you #fnaf x reader #fnaf x male reader #fnaf x you

[pinkluver93]

Is This Jealousy I'm Feeling?

Dr. Keh X Player fanfiction. I posted it on Aooo too. Enjoy :)

After a long day at your shop, you harvest the 300 artichokes Keh told you to grow (why the heck did he need so many anyway??) and drive over to Keh’s shop. As soon as you walk in with them in a grocery tote, he approaches you, smiling that punchable smile you hate so much….

“I see you’ve been harvesting a lot of artichokes. I’m impressed, I had such low expectations for you.”

As he takes the tote from you, you mumble something under your breath. “I’m impressed your ego allowed you to have any expectations for me at all…”

“What was that, Ovenist?”

You straighten yourself up and watch what you say next. He can easily not allow you to search the shop if you give him attitude, after all. “I said thanks for that and all….”

Keh raises an eyebrow at you, maintaining his Cheshire cat grin. “I’ll let you look around my shop, even though I still don’t want you here. But before you go wrecking it, do you have anything to show me or tell me?”

As he looks down at you into your eyes, you gulp. Why is he so….intimidating? “Nope, I’m good.”

As he goes back behind the counter to look at his store’s final sales of the day on his tablet, you take a look around his shop, your pen writing down what you see in your investigation. As you look around, you feel so inspired looking at his futuristic décor and technology, and you see his menu board, with his grinning face hanging right next to it. Next you see his grinning face AGAIN holding a pizza right next to his NIT (National Institute of Toppings) degree.

You roll your eyes, and quietly scoff, with a grin. Just what someone wants to do when they eat a pizza here….stare at this man’s smug face!

You look even closer at the pictures again, and you sweat.

That well-taken care of…handsome…gor-

RING RING RING RING!

The sound of a ringing phone (almost a trendy, futuristic ringing) brings you out of your trance and Keh answers. “Keh-lifornia Pizza Kitchen; the home of the world’s most renowned pizza….ah, you’d like to place a catering order for tomorrow? Of course you do, I’m the only shop in town that can properly fulfill that kind of order….”

You multi-task between looking around his shop and listening to his conversation, and boy, Keh is as smug on the phone as he is in person. With your notebook, you look around. After you see the trophies on the wall and take note of them, you go behind where Keh is standing to try to reach up to pull a rope, but have trouble. It appears to be too high up, and you jump up, groaning. As Keh continues to chat with the potential customer on the phone, he notices you struggling.

“Hold on one moment…” He puts the phone on hold, and, with his 6’3 height, easily pulls the rope up and showcases what’s behind the curtain. He grins down at you. “You remind me of a cat trying to reach into a tree. Quickly look around, Ovenist. I need to lock the shop up very soon.”

As he returns to the phone call, you roll your eyes and look around, taking note of what you see. Special sauces in test tube bottles, fancy cooking tools imported from Italy, and some sort of group of papers (you put these in your backpack to analyze later, as they may be important for the case and cannot be read quickly). You look around for more things when some fancy envelope on top of the oven catches your eye.

What’s with that fancy envelope? Who is he writing to?

You didn’t dare ask for help again, even though it sounded like Keh was off the phone now. You jumped up really high to grab the letter and look at the front.

“To Michael…from Angelica..”

You drop your jaw, as well as the letter. You grip your notebook tight.

Angelica Bechamel?? What is he doing writing to HER??

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Footsteps approach you, and soon, Dr. Keh walks by with the artichokes he was bringing to the kitchen. He sees your jaw open before you quickly close it.

“What’s with you? You look as though you’ve come to the realization that you’ll never have a pizza parlor as magnificently sumptuous as mine.”

You shrug. “Nothing’s wrong, I’m almost finished searching!”

He looks at the ground….seeing the letter. “Ah, I see you’ve found my letter from Angelica.”

You put your notebook down and cross your arms. He’s just coming right out with it! “Yeah, I did. It all makes sense now…”

He looks at you, curiosity in his eyes. “Oh, does it now?”

You nod, animatedly. There are butterflies in your stomach now, but it’s not like you can escape. You stutter out your next words with anxiety. “Yep, I totally knew you two were going out. You guys are SUCH a perfect match, aren’t you? That Pizzagram hashtag was so accurate.”

His curiosity in his eyes turns into wide eyes for a few seconds, then he chuckles loudly. “Is that what this is about? You think I’m in love with my former rival??”

“Well yeah! Who writes letters to each other these days unless you guys are star-crossed lovers? And that envelope must’ve cost as much as a week’s worth of rent in the city!”

Keh puts his hands on his hips. “I see. That’s your naïve assumption, is it? That only lovers write letter to each other, hmm? And pray tell, Ovenist, did you even look inside the letter? Or are you simply judging the letter by it’s envelope?”

You knew you didn’t read it, but….you feel like you didn’t need to since you pretty much saw everything. Who writes a letter to someone that closed their family business down?? ‘Hey Dr. Keh, thanks for closing my business. You really ARE the Master Ovenist! Talk soon! Love, Angelica’

“I…no, why would I read it?”

“Because then you would’ve seen that inside the letter were….business matters being discussed. Much to your chagrin, people tend to still compose letters to each other in modern times as emails are not very….confidential, if you will. And I am a much sought-after man after all, this tiring investigation aside….”

You look up at him in confusion. “Business matters?”

Keh grins down at you. “Nothing for a current rival to be concerned with….at least for right now anyway….let’s just say you should enjoy your little gravy train while you still can…”

You look down and sigh, with yet another worry in your head for the future. “Well fine….forget I said anything..gotta go!”

As you try to leave, Keh stops you.

“Where are you going so fast? Now I have a question for you…”

You look up at him in fear. Perhaps this is where he reveals himself to be that handsome villain from the movies that will tell you that you know too much, and that you must be…disposed of somehow…

”….w-what?”

“Why were you so upset to find a letter from Angelica of all people? I write to colleagues all the time, even those I went to NIT with….you seem very upset I am writing to her specifically….”

You blush, swallowing. “I-I don’t know, I-I just don’t like her, and just think that she’s a horrible person, and…”

“And I’m not? Is that what you were going to say, Ovenist?”

He’s caught you. The man has the highest degree you can get at any university, so he’s nowhere near stupid! Now you’re in trouble….

“No, not that, I didn’t say that! I-“

He smiles again, but this time….it’s almost a smile that….isn’t punchable this time? Instead, it almost looked….delighted?

“I can’t believe it, Ovenist….you’re JEALOUS, aren’t you?”

The blush on your face is even more red now, with red anger in your eyes added on. “No way! Why would I be jealous of you? Are you insane?”

He crosses his arms and grins. “Hmmph. Well you can’t be jealous of my pizza making skills, since you think your mediocre pizza is so much better for some reason. You’re still delusional as of this point. Perhaps….it’s something else….”

You start to shyly rub the back of your neck.

 “Ovenist….you’re attracted to me in some way, aren’t you?”

With sweat dripping off your forehead, you grab your notebook and run out of Keh’s shop and drive away. You ran out at super fast speed, that you don’t even realize that Keh has chased you outside, looking on as you drive away in the pouring rain…

You also don’t realize….he’s holding your pen you left behind….

#dr keh #good pizza great pizza #dr keh X reader #dr. michael keh #gpgp #gpgpfanfiction #dr. keh X player #teewritessmth

[metal-and-machetes]

Pretty Hate Machine

The Sequel to ‘The Downward Spiral’

-

If you dangle meat in front of a predator long enough, the frenzy that follows will be violent and messy.

-

This is a dark Ghostface fanfiction. Content Warning:

Fuck or Die

Violent sex

Blood play

Torture porn

Stabbing

Dubcon/noncon

Sexual violence

Humiliation

Degradation

Graphic descriptions of violence

Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. If the above are triggers for you, do not proceed. DBD lore does not suggest Danny is fun or nice, I wrote him as such.

-

“I’ll see you real soon, sweetheart.”

The words echoed in your head as you sat on a fallen tree trunk, leg bouncing as you stared out into the forest and waited. You’d been doing a lot of that lately… waiting. Waiting for the next trial. Waiting for the next killer. Waiting to be hunted down and slaughtered. Waiting to be a sacrifice to the Eldritch horror of an entity that controlled this place.

Waiting for him. You’d been waiting for what feels like forever for him. You lost track of how long you’d been here, it could’ve been months, years, mere days, you didn’t know. The others, they called in The Fog. They called themselves Survivors, they all got here in some mysterious way (though none of them had been brutally murdered after they were fucked by their coworker).

Sometimes you wondered if people were looking for you, if people were looking for Danny, Jed, Ghostface, whoever he was to people. You landed on the guess that they were looking for your body, and as far as Ghostface, you’re positive they assumed he skipped town after likely slaughtering you.

You’d been looking for him too. Rather, you’d been looking out for him. It was apparent what would happen when you finally encountered him. He’d hunt you like the rest of the monsters that lurked here, you and three others that were dropped into these… trials. Four against one, at a staggering disadvantage, since that one was a killer with a horrible weapon and you got a shard of glass if you were lucky.

So far, you faced The Shape, one of the survivors called him Michael. She came from the same place he did, Haddonfield, Illinois, her name was Laurie. Forever pissed that she was stuck in an endless cat and mouse game with the man who killed her friends. At least one of them could understand your position. The Trapper was another one that you encountered a lot, a burley man who set rusty bear traps in places you always seemed to be. There were more. The Huntress, The Wraith, The Nurse, The Doctor. Those are just the ones that stuck out to you. The ones you saw most often.

But where was he? Why didn’t you see him? Why were you actively looking for the one everyone called The Ghost? Why did you care? What the fuck was wrong with you? You hated the feeling you got when the others talked about trials with him, how you began to get jealous. Why couldn’t you see him? It was almost not fair. You should be grateful you’re not being hunted by the narcissistic, knife wielding maniac, but you miss him. Why was this entity separating you from him on purpose? Surely it’s not out of mercy.

It freaked you out how obsessive you were about him. Danny consumed your every thought at the fire. The others asked you about him once he began showing up in their trials. Theirs. Not yours. They asked why he chose you (you didn’t know). They asked if he carved the word ‘MINE’ into your arm (you lied, it was your ex, they believed you). They remarked that you must be so happy you haven’t had to face him (you weren’t).

And fuck you for that.

You hated, loathed the idea that maybe you missed Jed. And then you’d remember that Jed doesn’t exist. Jed is a lie. Jed is Danny. Danny was behind murders states away from Roseville. Danny is Ghostface. Danny is unhinged. Danny is a good fuck. And fuck you for wanting him to fuck you again.

The man in the glasses and the tie, Dwight, sat next to you.

“What does he do in those trials?” you asked, staring into the flames.

Dwight swallowed. “He’s brutal. He hides around corners and in windows and watches us.” Gross. He’s such a fucking pervert. “I think he looks for you.”

That got your attention. “What?”

“I’ve noticed he gets worse when he figures out you’re not there. It’s like all of a sudden this rush of anger goes through him and he’s tunneling survivors, he’s brutally playing around, he’s watching us suffer on the hooks, he’s collapsing the end game. It’s terrifying.”

You scoff and then let out a laugh, which earns you a few looks from other survivors. “So he throws a fucking temper tantrum.”

“Temper tantrum?” The girl in the beanie, Nea, sneered. “Is that what you call it when the rest of us are being brutalized because you’re getting spared?”

“Nea…” Dwight warned.

“Spared?” You laugh again. “Spared? Did you forget what got me here? That asshole stalked me. He broke into my home. He bludgeoned me, then he tied me down, then he tortured me,” you conveniently leave out the part where he fucked you with your blood as his lube, “and then he cut my throat open. And now I’m here. So, yes, it is a temper tantrum.”

She started swearing at you, but it was drowned out by the loud hum that overtook your mind, you knew that tug. The Entity wanted to be entertained. That’s all these trials were for it. Entertainment. You grunted and closed your eyes, and when they reopened, you were staring down the streets of Haddonfield. Shit. Another trial with The Shape, at least, that’s who was normally here, or the Legion, creepy bastards.

These trials were simple enough. You and three other survivors were to fix enough generators to power on the gates that led to an exit. You just had to deal with a murderous nutcase of the Entity’s choosing chasing you down in order to shove you onto a sacrifice hook, or to murder you themselves with something the others referred to as a mori.

You got right to work on a generator, moving hastily as the adrenaline pumped through your veins. You’d gotten good at this game, you escaped a lot of the time, generators were tricky, but you were fast.

A scream ripped across the street, freezing you in your tracks before a bell rolled and signaled the death of one of your fellow survivors. That was fast… almost too fast. Was it The Hillbilly? No, you didn’t hear the chainsaw. The Hag? Maybe Michael really was the killer this time. You abandoned the generator and ran towards the scream, then you stopped.

‘Idiot! This is exactly how people die in horror movies!’ you scolded yourself. Not only that, if the killer had been blessed with the ability to use their mori, you’d be even stupider to investigate. You’d be a brainless moron. The kind of brainless moron that you used to point and laugh at in those stupid 80s slasher movies.

Then you felt a new sensation. Like someone was watching you. The hair on your arms rose, you were oddly aware of your pupils dilating and your forehead breaking out in a sweat. It kept you frozen where you were. This was different from when Michael was the killer, you never got the feeling of a dry throat or like you were hyper aware of your surroundings.

The others have talked about this feeling. Obsession.

Fucking fuck, you were the killer’s obsession.

Without a thought, your legs sprang into motion, you sprinted from between the houses you had stopped at. You had to get away from the area. Go! Run! Hide! You became less human and more animal as you banked around a corner and dove into in a locker, hand clamped over your mouth and nose, trying to will your heart to slow, fearing that it would be heard. Footsteps approached from the side, pausing in front of the doors. The shadow casted through the vents wasn’t anything overly huge, but it vanished before you could pick it apart. At least you knew this was a stealth killer, not one of those hulking brutes like The Trapper or The Executioner.

You didn’t dare move until the feeling of being an animal hunted left. When it felt safer, you carefully exited the locker and ran the opposite direction to continue on your generator. As soon as it popped, you bolted, still unable to shake that lingering feeling of being watched.

Not moments later, the explosion of a mis-crossed wire on a generator was heard, followed by a scream piercing through the air and then a bell tolling.

What the fuck…” you murmured. This only confirmed that it had to be a stealth killer. Which only left you with a few options. The Wraith, the Pig, Michael… or him. You heart pounded a little harder. There was a 25% chance you were in a trial with Danny. One where you were the obsession. One where he could slaughter exactly as he pleased. One where you were now down two teammates.

You were completely and utterly fucked.

A hand grabbed your shoulder and you let out a scream before another hand slapped over your mouth and a bloody Ace shushed you. “Shh! Sh! I’m sorry, listen- fuck- I need you to help me out!”

The gambling man was stabbed blood pouring from between his fingers. You nodded as he crouched down and you quickly started packing the wound. “Wh-who is it?” Your voice wavered, terrified of the answer you already knew.

“It’s The Ghost.” Ace grunted as you faltered a bit. “Ah! He- he knows you’re here, kid…”

Before you could form a coherent thought, a shadowy blur launched from the shadows and tackled Ace from you, knocking you flat on your ass. Ace rolled onto his stomach, I’m the process of yelling for you to run, but the knife was already in his back, puncturing his lungs before he brutally stabbed through his sides, head ripped up and the flash of a camera capturing a fresh kill. You stared up from your ass in pure horror as Danny examined his photograph and slowly raised those black, soulless pits of the mask to meet your terrified eyes.

“Fucking finally.” His voice was distorted by that fucking modulator, nice to know he didn’t drop the act here. He tore the knife from Ace’s back, standing. You scrambled back as his boots crunched on the gravel. “You’re all mine, bitch!” You screamed as he wiped the blood from his knife, turning and stumbling as you got up and ran, hearing the most unhinged cackle fall from the throat of the killer. Your killer. You vaulted over windows, threw down pallets, you tried to get away, but there was no escape, it was a fact you were so devastatingly aware of. You finished one generator, all three of your teammates were dead before you could even process you were alone.

Worst of all, he was pissed. You came to realize that night before you came here that Danny had some serious anger issues. He had an incredibly short fuse. Even answering his questions slower than he wanted pissed him off. And now, after probably having to watch you for however long you were here, not being able to have you? He must be irate. Evident by the fact he just brutally murderer Ace in front of you.

You turned into a house, rocketing up a flight of stairs and wedging yourself under a bed, hands clasped over your mouth to quiet your breathing. You heard the pallet you had thrown down across the door shatter under the force of Danny’s boot. “You can’t hide here, sweetheart!” he snarled from downstairs. You hear doors open and get slammed shut, pans clattered to the floor as he stalked through the house. “It’s just you and me now! No more hiding, no more watching, no more fucking games, you’re finally goddamn mine!” Floorboards creaked as he ascended the stairs and tears rolled down your cheeks until it went quiet. Damn him. Damn you for getting wet over this. What the fuck was wrong with you?

“Found you.” A hand wrapped a crushing grip around your ankle and dragged you out from under the bed, kicking and screaming as he shoved you against the wall by your throat. The soulless black abyss of the mask’s eyes bore into you with more emotion than you think any person could ever have. Because Danny was beyond pissed.

‘Shit. Shit, shit, shit!’ You kicked your legs and caught him in the stomach, falling out of his grasp and attempting to make a run for the door, only for your ankle to be caught again and you to land on the dirty hardwood face first, nose crunching and bleeding at the impact. Danny dragged you back to him and wrestled you into his arms, falling back as you knocked your head back to collide with his. You weren’t going to go down like last time, you were going to fight, you were going to make it as hard as you could for him. Maybe he’d get so angry that he’d just kill you instead of what you knew he was going to do.

He suddenly threw you to the ground like you weighed nothing before standing and kicking you in the gut. You wheezed, has he always been this strong? No… no way he had been. “Hey, doll? Did you miss me?” He growled, grabbing your hair and wrenching you up.

“Fuck you!”

“I see you haven’t lost that fuckin’ fight.” he growled. It wasn’t playful, it wasn’t giddy. It was said with downright terrifying annoyance as he hauled you to your feet and slammed your face against the wall, cheeks crushed to it, your back to his body, blood pouring from your broken nose. “She hasn’t broken you quite yet.”

“Go to hell, Danny!”

He pushed you harder into the wall, the splintering wood cutting into your cheek. “Choose your next words real fucking careful, sweetheart. I’m already having a bad fuckin’ day and I will gladly take it out on you. And I’ll make it really fuckin’ slow and painful… just for you.” You whimper, ultimately going lax under his fingers and taking a deep breath. This is what you wanted, right? To see him? Feel him? Touch him? This was what you asked for when you brooded over the fire and laid awake being jealous of your fellow survivors and angry that he may have their pictures too. “That’s it. That’s it, doll.”

You winced as he pressed against you, heavy breath muffled by the mask, erection pressed against your ass. You were not going to make it easy for him. “I heard you threw some temper tantrums when I didn’t show up in the trials.”

He slammed your head against the wall again and your vision blurred. “The more attitude you have, the worse this is going to be for you. I’m not above gouging out new holes to fuck instead of your pussy.”

Your eyes watered as you whimpered. Then tears started spilling from your eyes. You heard plastic hit the ground as Danny ripped it off his face. He trailed the tip of his knife down your cheek as he pressed his forehead against your temple, his hair damp with sweat. “Listen, and listen closely.” he growled into your ear. “You’re going to cooperate. I have waited since I got to here to have my way with you again. I even cut a deal with the Entity.”

“Wh-what kind of deal?”

He let out a soft breath of a laugh before grinding his hips against your ass and let out a soft groan. “We show her how far I can push you, I get access to you outside the trials. It’s a win-win.”

“Sounds more like a win for only you.” you muttered. The knife bit into your cheek, and to your utter humiliation, you whined. He shifted your position and held you to the wall by your throat. The eyeblack was still there like you remember, but he didn’t have your blood splattered on him. Danny smiled as he observed the shine of the knife.

You swallowed as he gave you that stupid smirk before he licked the blood from your cheek then leaned down and kissed you, the knife disappearing back into its sheath. You let out a muffled yelp, trying to find a way from between him and the wall. His hands ran up your arms, one descending down your spine while the other firmly cupped the back of your neck to keep you close, effectively cutting off any and all escape routes.

You shoved him back but he just locked his fist into the hair at the base of your neck and yanked your head up towards the ceiling as hard as he could. “It’s pathetic how you think struggling will get you anywhere, doll.” He made his point by stabbing your leg and dragging the knife upward, shuddering as you let out a high pitched scream. “Fuck, I love when you scream for me.”

“I hate you.” You growled, tears freely flowing now as the knife ripped from your leg and was lodged into the wall.

“Is that why you sit at that fire and stare out into the forest? Because you hate me?” Danny scoffed, roughly shoving his hand into your shorts and gliding his ring and middle fingers through the wet folds of your pussy, pulling a whimper from you. “Look at that, still a filthy slut for pain? Do you soak your panties for all the killers when the chase you down, or am I special?”

You glared at him as you tried to control your breathing and hold back your whimpers. He pressed his forehead against yours and focused his fingertips on your clit, slow circles stimulating you further, causing your eyes to drift close and your mouth to drop open.

“She kept you from me. She made me wait and watch. She tortured me by dangling you in front of me like I was a starving dog salivating after a slab of fucking meat.” He yanked you off the wall, taking the knife with him in the process, and pushed you back on the bed, straddling you, your blood soaking the fabric of his pants. “I have so many pictures of you. I’ve made a pretty collage of you.”

His eyes were crazed, he looked like a junkie that finally found his fix. He practically devoured you again, teeth clacking against yours as the knife tore through your top and shorts, nicking your skin, bright red blood blooming from the cuts. He was careless, you were probably in more danger now than you ever were the night he brought you here. But oh god, did it feel good when the worn leather of his gloves caressed your tits and pinched your hard nipples.

‘Fuck it.’ You reached down and cupped his pants, whimpered when he immediately started grinding his hard cock into your palm. He grinned against your mouth and broke away from you, pressing his knife against your throat.

“You try to run and I’ll pin you to the wall by your throat and fuck you that way.” When you nodded, he stood up walking backwards until he collapsed back in the chair, legs open wide. “Now, I didn’t get my cock sucked last time. Crawl to me, take it out, and show me what a good little doll you are.”

You winced as you moved your leg, yelping as you crawled, the muscle of your thigh torn by his brutality. You dragged yourself into a kneeling position and started undoing the belt, sliding it off and working the button open and dragging down the zipper. You hated yourself as you pulled out his cock, mouth watering. You didn’t get a good look at it before, but the stretch you felt made sense. And of course the asshole had a pretty cock. Fuck him. And fuck yourself for liking it. The other survivors, they fucked each other, you however couldn’t stop thinking of the fuckhead in front of you.

“Hurry up, sweetheart. I’m not a patient man.” he growled.

“I’m well aware.” That comment earned you a blade in the shoulder, bone crunching, and you screaming. Danny seized your hair and shoved your mouth onto his cock, slamming into the back of your throat and causing a wretch to interrupt the muffled cries of agony.

“You’re real fuckin’ brave, you little brat. You love running your fuckin’ mouth so much, but we can find a better use for it.” You wretch again as he thrusted, forcing you to drool down his shaft before he pulled you off so air. “Get to work. Now.” It was so embarrassing how easily you bent to his will. The nail was in the coffin from day one.

He didn’t need to guide you anymore. Message received. So you immediately began stroking his shaft and licking at the bead of precum on his tip. How long had he been watching you in the trial? How many pictures of you did he take? How often did he masturbate to you? How many hours had he spent wanting you from the shadows just outside of your survivor camp?

You opened your mouth and gave the head of his cock a quick, sharp suck, causing Danny to moan and throw his head back. “C’mon, baby.” He seized your hair and forced you to look up at him and his camera, clicking away. “Put on a good show for me.”

He tasted like you imagined. Earthy, but with a hint of sweat from the hunt, and he kept himself trimmed neatly. Your mouth watered, hands bracing onto his strong thighs, tears running out of your eyes like the drool running out of your mouth. Oh fuck, he was addicting. Your nails dig into his hips and dragged down, leaving him shuttering and laughing.

“Ah~ f-fuck, sweetheart. You look so good with my cock in your throat.” He forced your head closer, shoving himself further down your throat and your nose against his body, gagging you. His cock twitched in your throat, you braced yourself to take every drop of his cum. “Sick little slut.” Danny’s hand wrapped around your hair, a delicious tug making you moan as he pulled you off his cock and caught his breath. Your spit clung to the tip of good swollen cockhead and connected to your lip as you gasped for air. “As much as I’d love to see you swallow my cum, I’d much rather paint that pussy white.”

He got up and dragged you to the bed, forcing you to stumble and cry out in pain when your leg dragged against the sheets on the bed, staining the dirty floral quilt with blood. More screams and yelps of agony fell out when he pressed your busted nose into the mattress. Danny’s fingers brushed your pussy, growling out a laugh.

“What would your little friends say if they saw you here right now, dripping, even with a broken nose, scared out of your mind? What would they say if they knew I carved out that scar on you?” Just as your mouth opened to snap back, the knife was shoved through your shoulder, point sticking out the other side of your body. “Learn how to shut the fuck up, sweetheart.”

You nodded, finally giving in, finally accepting defeat. God you were pathetic. How embarrassing. Still, he rewarded your response with gloved fingers rubbing your clit the way he knew would get you squirming and moaning. He practically snarled as he pressed his forehead between your shoulder blades, blood from your wound soaking his forehead. “Please, Danny… please I need you…”

“I know you do.” He shoved you back and pushed his pants lower. “Arch nice and fuckin’ pretty for me.”

You obeyed, whimpering as the knife shifted in your back, well aware of the clicking and the flashes of the camera. So fucking creepy. Danny gripped your ass and spread your cheeks open and gave your pussy a quick, experimental lick before he kneeled behind you. He roughly collected blood from the gushing wound on your leg and spread it onto himself, teasing your pussy with the head of his cock, dragging it through your soaking wet folds, swirling it over your clit as you whimpered. More clicks. More flashes. God the disgusting gallery he must have of you.

“Please, just fuck me alre-“ you screamed out when he slammed his whole cock into your hole, grunting at the way you squeezed him hard. “Jesus Christ, Danny!”

“Ah fuck me. Finally… god fucking dammit finally!” He smoothed his hands over your back and sides, letting out a loud moan as he watched you take him, letting him thrust at a leisurely pace. Danny didn’t do gentle of course, he seized your hair and ripped your body up and against his chest, knife at your throat as he started pounding. You gasped and moaned, throat bobbing as you struggled to swallow without getting cut by his knife. “You’re so pretty when you’re being fuckin’ good for me.” He dropped the knife and fell forward, still thrusting, but now cheek to cheek with you as your arch deepened and his chest pressed down into your back.

He fumbled for a moment and regrouped onto your hair as the camera screen was shoved into your face. He forced you to watch as he flipped through photo after photo of you. You at the fire, you talking to the survivors, you sleeping. Occasionally pictures of your dead teammates showed up, until the trial now was apparent. It was only you.

You fixing the generator. You stopping in the alley. You running down the street, your terrified eyes as you realized who it was, you sucking his cock. Your pussy with his cock balls deep inside, blood smeared everywhere.

“You’re- mmh fuck!- You’re fucking crazy!”

Danny whimpered in your ear as you clenched in a particularly hot way before he bit on your lobe. “And you… fuck, you’re such a slut, ya know that?” he growled. “I just murdered your friends, I’m covered in their blood, and you’re still wet for me. You’re still taking me so good. Dirty little whore.”

You reached back and ran your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck as you felt yourself clench as Danny‘s breath fanned your neck. You were disgusting. Traitor. Weak. You weren’t any better than him, because if you were, you wouldn’t be fucking him right now. You wouldn’t be enjoying it right now. He moaned again and pulled out, flipping you onto your back and slamming back inside, your breath rushing out of your lungs.

He suddenly tensed and braced himself over you, angling himself even deeper as he moaned and came inside you, thrusting through the waves of pleasure. He started laughing and tapped your cheek with his knife. “Good god, sweetheart look at that… making me cum so quick…” Your breath hitched as he pulled his cock out of you and spread your pussy open, laughing as he watched his cum drip out of your abused whole, mixing with the blood. Danny turned his attention to his branding on your arm, tracing the letters with the tip of the blade. “It’s cute how you lie about this.” There wasn’t an ounce of flirt in his voice as the smile vanished. “How you make them think you aren’t my property.”

“Jealousy isn’t a good look on you, Danny.” you snapped. Before you could blink, the knife was through your hand, your high pitched scream piercing the air. “Asshole!”

“Don’t get smart with me, babe.” He twisted it, bones crunching. “Or I’ll carve a hole in your throat and fuck that next!”

You whimpered as he ripped the knife out of you, blood splattering on the both of you. The carnage was worse this time, you were practically covered and smeared in blood. “Please…”

“Please what? Please kill you? Please fuck you again? Please keep you here until she has enough and takes you away from me again?” He smirked, taking another picture of you. “Be specific.”

You hesitate, then swallow. “Please make me cum… I wanna cum… please, Danny, I’ll be good!”

Danny smiled and ran a hand through his hair, observing his blade before his eyes lit up with an idea. “Stick out your tongue.”

You obeyed, and his fingers started in on your clit. He pressed the knife’s base on you tongue before pressing his own to the other side, fingers now shallowly dipping into your entrance, cum leaking around the tips. Fuck, this was hot, the taste of the blood on the weapon, how the sides of his tongue pressed against yours as he slid the knife down between them, somehow managing to not cut either of you. When it was finally out, his tongue folded over your, blood and spit mixing as he finger fucked you.

Your breathing got heavy, a moan rose in your chest as his thumb played over your clit. You shook and reached up, fingers grasping his shirt as you broke the kiss to pant and whine and whimper. Your eyes shut and your thighs started tensing. Your tongue was coated in you and your teammates’ blood, the wound on your shoulder bled heavily and you’ve lost feeling in the shredded leg that was still spraying blood, your head was fuzzy, you were right there, so close, so-

He tore his fingers away and stabbed you in the stomach instead, right as you came, shock in your eyes as you coughed out more blood. “Fuck you!” He hummed with a smile as he slowly dragged the knife up and up and up, splitting your stomach and exhausting whatever adrenaline you had left to scream.

“A ruined orgasm is still an orgasm, sweetheart.” He smacked your pussy, splashing your cum on your thighs as he twisted and unsheathed the knife from your body. “Come to the edge of your little camp when you get back. Let’s see if this god of ours keeps her promises.”

#horror #ghostface dbd #ghostface x reader #danny johnson x reader #jed olsen x reader #dead by daylight #ghostface #fanfic

[puppetwoman17]

You know, I’ve always thought of Michael Afton as the FNaF series’ anomaly. It’s why I refer to it so much in my fanfiction.

There’s the obvious bit, where he’s nothing like the rest. He’s no animatronic, obviously. He’s not like his dad or brother, who were crushed by spring locks and inhabited the suits they died in. He’s not a suit fueled by the agony of a child’s death.

But he’s not human either.

He’s somewhere in the middle. A combination of the agony of his death by scooper, of remnant powering dead children. And then there’s the obvious addition of, ya know, his insides being scooped out by an amalgamated system of robots.

Different from the rest. A man haunting his own body. Others are fueled by hate and a lust for revenge. But he’s alive just because of spite. Because he won’t die.

And when I tell you he was probably the most unexpected thing to happen…

He was some bratty kid, annoyed with his brother for always crying. Then the kid dies and he feels like the worst human being. Then he does whatever he can to set things right, like going down to find his sister. And then he gets scooped, and that just FEELS like the end, right? Like the last Afton is gone, like all that’s left is just William and the creatures he created. Animatronics possessed by dead kids versus a murderer in a rabbit suit. No one to stand in the middle and watch over all of it.

They needed a middle man, and they got one.

I remember when the story was first starting out, and everyone was wondering who the guard was. FNAF one, the last guard in FNAF 2(for some, not for others), and the guard in FNAF 3. I remember so clearly, we were wondering just why the hell this guy kept coming back, if he even was the same guy. Who would come back every night and come out the winner?

And then FNAF 4 came out, and we got our first look at who would grow up to be the protagonist of these games. It’s not clear though, we still don’t have the full picture.

And then SL releases, and FINALLY, we know. We have a name, a relation, and it blows the world of FNAF into a whirlwind, because the protagonist of Five Nights at Freddy’s, the thorn in the murderer’s side, someone who can take on so many animatronics and come out swinging, is the murderer’s own son! His first born child, back with a vengeance, and an inability to pass on.

He burned his own father, he took on the corrupt company he worked for and searched for the guard who left him tapes. He tampered with robots and burned places to the ground and did it all in a decaying body.

And it all comes to a head in FNAF 6, where we see all of his hard work come to fruition, and all of his skills are utilized to take on the monsters of his past. I’m sure no one in that town expected anything from a jealous, angry kid who “killed” his brother. I’m sure they hated him. I’m sure he was expected to die. But he still got back up. He became the anomaly, and he burned those mofos to the ground!

Fanart by KTK on Pinterest

#michael afton #william afton #five nights at freddy's #evan afton

[touchstoneaf]

I'm reading summaries and transcripts, and once in a while forcing myself to watch episodes of anything after season 3 of Smallville (solely so that I can rewrite them in a way that's much more coherent (and CLexy, but that goes w/o saying))... and my GOD, they are so dumb sometimes. Poor Michael. having to convincingly say shit like "your girlfriend was possessed by the ghost of a witch" with a straight face! (Side note what the actual fuck is the plot in this season? Season 4 is insane and I don't even want to talk about it.) Yes the show has always been a little goofy and has some storylines that are questionable... but they are really pushing it now.

Also one of the main strengths of the show is the chemistry between Michael and Tom, and yet they have full episodes where they don't even interact, and it's just like, *what* are you doing?! And then to top it off, each summary just gets more and more ridiculous and complicated as the seasons goes on, and I'm just like oh thank god I have simplified it in fanfiction! They are no damn witches (because let me not even get started on how witches are portrayed in most TV shows!), there are no spirits floating around trying to possess people (just because you have Kryptonite around does not mean you get to hand-wave literally anything at all. Why in the hell would a Kryptonite nodule or some dust cause ghosts to exist? It affects *living cells* with *radiation*. I don't even understand why they would make a decision like that. They really must have been desperate for stories already, and we're not even halfway through the show yet).

I'm not going to even get started on my main gripes with the show that have existed from the beginning, like turning Superman into a self-serving, abusive, selfish liar who lies, or the fact that their main "villain" was created out of victim-blaming and abuse and then everybody's just gleefully happy for Lex be treated like shit for no fucking reason whatsoever, while his Literally Evil father is turned into some kind of pseudo "good" guy. Cuz yeah, abusers should be redeemable. but their victims should end up alone and tortured and treated like shit by everybody around them. That totally makes sense. I won't get started, I really won't, because I will be here all day. Or the fact that nobody seems to have figured out that Clark is a meta at the very least, when he does all kinds of weird shit all the time. These people are smart. Chloe and Lex especially are not fucking stupid by any stretch. It just simply would not have taken them four or more years to realize that he could easily one of the mutants in town. Nobody would be shocked in the slightest; but they play it like they're just too stupid to figure it out, and it's terrible because Clark is the worst liar in the universe.

Also, somebody who's not yet Superman is not going to be fighting beings like Doomsday when they're still like 20. It's just not going to happen. I'm not even getting started on creepy stuff like how they're totally sexualizing someone who's playing a minor because she is their eye candy on the show. Lana and Kristin deserved better! The female lead who basically existed to further the two guys' storylines for like three seasons finally gets her own story... but it's about being possessed by an ancient witch or some shit? They are actually sexualizing her near death experience, like some kind of creepy PG snuff film (who actually made the decision of trying to make Lana being slowly suffocated a weird sexy vibe?! So fucking problematic I don't even know where to start). And then the male lead's other love interest is summarily killed by their cardboard cutout villain of the week with his lack of character development, simply so that she can't get in the way of Supes' future storyline, because she was literally created only to be a roadblock to his future goals, masquerading as something to keep him from actually being lonely to death. All she did wrong was to wish she could free of stigma about Mental Health... then shortly afterward, when she was essentially killed about it, he turns around and is fine again because he gets a football scholarship. What the fuck?! (Yes, I'm looking at you, Pariah).

I can't even with this show sometimes. I'm so glad I quit when I did. I tend to forget how insane and Incredibly questionable a lot of it is until I have to watch something of it in order to rewrite it. But I guess that's why there's fanfic in the first place!

#Smallville #clex #the assassination of Clark Kent #wtf

[rey-writez]

ok so this story is can be found on wattpad rather than ao3 just cause i find the format of ao3 to be confusing ANYWAY who's up for some lost boys fanfiction?

CHERRY RED

My whole family hated that we were moving. At least my brothers did. Honestly, I was just excited though. I mean being stuck in the same small town all my 16 years of living really makes a person want to get out sometimes. Or maybe its just my innate wanderlust. What can I say? It’s tough.

“Yeah Claud, keep sulking out the window, it’ll help,” Michael quipped.

“Oh my god, I was not ‘sulking’ you dipwad.”

“Claudia, don’t call your brother a dipwad.” my mom sighed,

An hour later, we arrived at our new home. It was small and cute. Me and my brothers rushed to claim our rooms. I found one at the end of a winding hallway. It had a large bay window with a clear view of the sea. Perfect. Just then I heard a rush of footsteps and Sam busted in.

“Do you mind?” I scoffed.

“Boo, I wanted this room.” he rolled his eyes and I crossed my arms.

“Snooze you loose.”

“Oh well. Hey, me and Michael were going to the boardwalk tonight, you know, get to know the city more. Wanna tag along?” Sam questioned. I bit my lip and thought about it. I mean would I rather stay in to unpack more or go out… Yeah, I’m going out.

“Alright, I’m in. Now get out doofus!” and I hit him with a pillow playfully. Now time to unpack. I grabbed all the boxes inscribed with Claudia. There were 2. So I started with the first one. It was a bit heavier than the other one but I managed it. Soon enough I had a well decorated room and a nice squashy bed.

“Come on Claud, we’re leaving!”

“Mike I’ll be ready in a second” I shouted in return. Scrambling to my newly organized closet, I chose my outfit. I wore a white tank, denim shorts, and a long yellow cardigan. I slipped on my favorite pair of Converse and left for the boardwalk.

The boardwalk was more crowded than ever. I almost felt dizzy with the amount of input I was getting at once. But I kept going and kept exploring. I was all on my own looking around, Mike was off chasing some girl and Sam was in a comics shop, so I ended up wandering around. The boardwalk seemed to glow in the pale moonlight. I loved it. My aimless stroll was halted when I stumbled across a stand selling churros and other boardwalk food. I decide to buy a churro and a coke. The kid selling them almost looked dead inside. I walked over to a bench and began eating. Just then, a blonde curly-haired boy sat on the bench. He was the guy standing behind me when I was in line for my food. The guy who I could tell was kind of into me, and honestly, I was kind of into him too.

“Hey,” I said, breathy. “I like your jacket.” God, I bet he noticed how flustered I was. But then I noticed he was almost a little flustered too. Aww.

“Thanks, cutie.” His smile was goofy, yet comforting. “I’ve never seen you around here before, are you knew here?”

“Yeah. I just moved.”

“Nice, nice. So do you like it here? In Santa Carla?”

“Yeah, I love the beach. And I love traveling.” He nodded and seemed like he was a bit fidgety.

We ended up sitting there, just chatting. He was kind. He was funny. God, I was falling hard.

Then, I glanced around, looking for Michael. It was getting a bit late and I was thinking about heading home.

“Ugh— where is he?” I couldn’t find him anywhere so I guess he just wandered off. I was thinking about asking him to drive around town, cause boardwalks were never my favorite.

“Where is who?” He asked.

“Oh, my brother.”

“You have a brother?”

“Is that surprising?” I smirked at him and raised my eyebrows.

“No, I mean…” he trailed off and looked a bit flustered. “Why are you looking for him?”

“Was gonna see if he would drive me around town.”

“Why so?” He asked.

“You ask a lot of questions!” I sarcastically joked with a smirk on my face. “See boardwalks were never really my style.”

He nodded and sat in silence for a short minute.

“I could drive you around.” My face stayed normal, but inside I was ecstatic. This cute guy on the boardwalk just asked me if he could hang out with me.

“Okay, sure!” I tried not to sound too excited. This was the first time I had found real love since… Well whatever.

“Alright, come with me.” He stood up and shrugged away from the bench. I stood up and threw my trash away and followed him.

“Y’know, I never caught your name.” He said.

“It’s Claudia.” I said, smiling at him.

“Claudia. Claudia’s a nice name.” He muttered, looking up at the stars. “My name’s Marko.” I nodded.

“Well, nice to meet you Marko.” I chuckled and keep walking along side him. It was nice.

Marko lead me over to a crowded parking lot. I’m the middle, there were a couple of motorcycles. I assume the more colorful one was his.

Just then a curly-haired dark boy caught my eye. Michael? I wanted to yell. He was flirting with a girl. The same girl he was chasing at the beginning of the night. At least I notice my goddamn sibling. I thought.

There were 3 other boys there too. A brunette boy, a long haired sleazy one, and finally one who definitely looked like a leader. He had a short blonde mullet and a light stubble. Well. Let’s see were this might takes us.

“Mind if we go to my buddies hangout? Don’t worry, they’re chill. " Marko said warmly. The blonde shot me a big toothy grin.

“See, that’s Paul. And you see him? The other blonde? That’s David. And finally we got Dwayne. They’re basically my brothers. " he grinned. “You ready, Claudia? " I nodded.

The ride was mostly a blur. Marko turning around to give me big Chessy Cat grin while I return it and wrap my arms around him in order to hold on.

Finally, we were at his friends place.

LOOKING FOR MORE CHERRY RED?

MORE COMING SOON!

#the lost boys #tlb 1987 #the lost boys 1987 #tlb david #tlb paul #david tlb #marko tlb #paul tlb #dwayne tlb #the lost boys x reader #marko x reader #wattpad #michael emerson #Emerson sibs

[ozimagines]

The theater kid in me is about to come out in a way only an English professor could appreciate but

kirk whatshisname always plays minor roles in other shows, a few episodes on The Walking Dead and that one time on White Collar. Both times my man was a grade-A ASSHOLE. My boo thing was stone cold and also??? His voice is so deep like. damn.

He’s almost always an asshole and I love than bc Miguel is just the kindest soul ever. His eyes are so kind I’m 99% sure that makes sense. His accent is so soft and he’s so soft and he’s my lil guy okay leave my man alone

It’s such a drastic contrast and I think it’s proof his actor is just. mwah. Perfection.

also I started watching OZ when I was 14 and my parents told me I couldn’t bc there were penises so being the good child I was I finished s3 within the next week. Now whenever I talk abt it I always say “but I only watched one eps, ofc” and they know I’ve watched the whole thing it’s just so funny to pretend I didn’t.

I’m 16 btw. I regret nothing and everything(good lord there were pee pees everywhere what the fart)

LOL I’m gonna address every part of this but can I just say thank you for making me smile this early in the morning!

First of all, no one ever has to apologize for going full theatre kid on my page. I am, as Funky Frog Bait calls it, “theatre kid syndrome gone terminal”😂.

Second, Kirk Acevedo was the whole reason I watched Oz. I watched Band of Brothers first and fell in love with him as Joe Toye. I searched his IMDB page and this came up. Didn’t think much of it; just wanted to see him. Then I saw Harold Perrineau! And I was like Michael, from Lost! Then I saw Ernie Hudson! And J.K. Simmons! And Dean Winters! And B.D. Wong, Rita Moreno, Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje, and so many others. Just a star studded cast. (To say nothing of Luke Perry, Luis Guzman, David Zayas and so on). Then I found people on Oz. Otto Sanchez, Lee Tergeson, Terry Kinney, Eamonn Walker, and others! (I know they were all known but still they were new to me!) Every character feels so real.

Im reminded of a story Kirk Acevedo told about his daughter. He said he was watching TV with her when she asked him why the heroes on TV never looked like them. He told himself he’d play hero characters when he could… even though he admits the villains are fun to play.😂 Love him. Even though Miguel Alvarez is far from your typical hero, he’s not your typical gang banger either. He’s complex. And you’re right, with very kind eyes. Wish he got a better ending. But hey, that’s why fanfiction writers are here!😂

My parents monitored everything I watched until I turned 18. I remember, four months after my eighteenth birthday, I had decided I wanted to watch Oz and I made a whole proposal to my parents about why I should watch the show. (Think Turning Red when she tries to get her parents to let her go to the 4 Town concert🤣). I finished my proposal and my mom was like… “you’re 18 , do what you want, lol”. So it was actually the first show I watched as an adult. That was about six years ago. I’ve been a fan ever since.

Just some fun set and off set pics of our favorite guys❤️❤️❤️

#hbo oz #oz meme #miguel alvarez #Kirk Acevedo #kirkkkkkk my guy #much love for this show #would reccomend #even with all the pee pees lol #(especially because of all the pee pees)

[yonderghostshistories]

I'm planning on starting that MP Regency AU fanfiction! What should I include? (U, PG and 18+ suggestions are all welcome!)

OH MY GOD YOU'RE ACTUALLY DOING IT?!?!!? LESS GOOOOOOO!!!!!

Ok uhh here's my suggestions!! :

-All (well technically 3) the Pythons have a really specific kinda Regency royal/heir-like title/nicknames to them based on where they were born (i.e some random examples; John Cleese, Earl of Weston-super-Mare, Captain/Admiral/General Graham Chapman, Duke of Leicester, Terry "Jonesy" Jones, Baron of Colywn Bay of North Wales). Then you have Vicar Michael Palin (of Sheffield), Baron Terry Gilliam from Paris, France (he says he's a Baron but the others don't really believe him and thinks he's really a phony or something lol), and self proclaimed "Maestro" Eric Idle (from the local Cheshire pub). Then you also have Stableboy Neil (Innes)/Neil the humble Stableboy, Countess Carol Cleveland and Countess Connie Booth (in this AU, Connie is Carol's older half-sister/cousin) of London, Lieutenant David Sherlock (Gray's second-in-command in the army, and also love interest but pretends to just "be friends" so to not make people suspicious about their relationship with eachother, etc!

-Gray is both a highly respected army official by day (at work technically), and a promiscuously gay playboy by night (when he has the time off doing the army business). He smokes alot too.

-Jonesy ends up with Regency era Denise Coffey and learns that she's not as "bad" as anyone makes her out to be. She's considered"bad" because she's apparently "too common" to fit with society. In other words, society thinks she's "too unattractively normal" to be considered pretty, to which she politely says bullshit to :).

-John and Gray are childhood best friends with eachother. Michael and Jonesy are also childhood best friends with eachother. Eric and Terry tags along as well.

-John becomes instantly uhh "emo" and tragic and moody and cold because of his recent breakup with his (ex-)fiancé Connie, even though they just broke up since almost a week ago. He mopes about it all the bloody time that even his friends start to get annoyed by it all, and it makes even his own sappy poetry look like decent stuff.

-Eric and Neil meet up at the weekends to play as a musical duo at the local Cheshire pub. Eric is, ofc, sorta homeless, meaning he has to to stay over at Neil's cottage house but also stay at the local taverns until he has to pay rent.....but mostly he chills out at Neil's house.

-Eric gets a "rags to riches" kinda story where, with the help of Gray who just so happen to be at the local Cheshire pub to "meet a special friend of his" (which is ofc David) in which Gray overhears the pretty good singing, he agrees to hire Eric as his servant and give him a permanent place to stay and enough money to live by. Eric is ecstatic ofc!

-Michael is a kind and innocent vicar, a follower of god, but he's a bit horny too! He particularly has a crush on a nice and kind woman called Helena (who runs the local bookshop in the town). Mike has the hots for Helen but knows he can't actually ask her out due to him being religious and stuff and it apparently going against the rules to marry whilst preaching about god or something. However, he tries to get around this by starting out slow, via becoming companions with Helena by helping her with the bookshop part-time. It all seems going to plan. However, things start to get a bit too *spicy* when Michael accidentally sees Helena in her regency era undergarments (which is a "stay"-kinda undergarment) just as she was about to get unchanged. As if it couldn't get any worse, the stunned Michael commits the greatest sin he has ever committed.......he sees a bit of her bare back. That alone is enough to make Michael faint. Helena, being the good and understanding friend she is, helps Michael get back to life and takes care of the poor soul. Michael is grateful for Helena helping him, but feels guilty for seeing her like that. Helena tells him that it's ok and that it was an accident at the end of the day. Michael smiles, and out of the repressed passion he held back for all these years, he slowly cups her face and begins kissing Helena, and Helena, at first surprised, is then quickly eased and understands and kisses back Michael. Michael and Helena then have the most excruciatingly passionate sex that night, and both are left satisfied.

-Gray meets David in an abandoned farmhouse, and they both announce their feelings for one another, and they both kiss passionately and uhh have the most beautiful gay sex one could ever hope.

-There's alot of "characters running through the moors" whenever the character starts a new relationship, romantic or platonic.

-Gray wakes up naked every morning after each promiscuous affair.

-Terry the Parisian Artist develops a romance with the ""weird"" woman who runs the tailoring clothes shop, Ms Margret "Maggie" Weston. Terry & Maggie bond over their shared weirdness and love for absurdities in life.

-John and Connie began an (almost) lifelong romance (before they broke up) when they were young teenagers of about 16/15 at a ball one night. From there on, they hit it off with each other pretty well. The young John and Connie then sneakily exited from the ballroom, then they snuck out and playfully ran to the garden maze and then snogged each other all night long.

-The Pythons and Co go to a regency era fairground/carnival and have a lovely, fun time there. They also get to ride on the merry-go-round on the merry-go-round horses!

Uhh hope you enjoyed the ideas I gave! Let me know which of the ideas is your favourite and why? I absolutely can't wait to read it!!

#monty python #graham chapman #michael palin #terry jones #john cleese #eric idle #terry gilliam #carol cleveland #connie booth #neil innes #David Sherlock #fanfic ideas

[finalsentence]

hi everyone!! this is going to be a very simple introduction; depending on how this goes i might get fancy and do something nicer in the future!

this is my second or third time trying to create a space for myself in the writeblr community. both times i failed because consistency is hard. but i’d like to put myself out there and make friends with other writers, so i’m giving it another shot!

about me.

i’m nineteen years old and pursuing a ba degree in english literature! i have absolutely no idea what i want to do after that… if i had it my way i would simply spin my favorite characters around in my head for a living but i’ve been told that’s not how it works. :(

i enjoy reading a variety of genres, including literary fiction, horror, and post-apocalypse!

my top favorite books are: the stand by stephen king, frankenstein by mary shelley, and the kite runner by khaled hosseini. (yes, they are wildly different stories, but they all hold a very special place in my heart. <3)

my writing.

so. confession time. i am a fanfiction writer. i know how that sounds, but don’t scroll away just yet! i put a lot of care and effort into my work to make it accessible and enjoyable for everyone; so even if you aren’t in any of the fandoms i write about, you will still be able to follow my work the way you would follow someone’s original novel. all of my work is a study of canon storylines, settings and characters, but i try to present it in a way that does not assume the reader has any prior knowledge of the source. (and if you do, you get to enjoy the little easter eggs hehe.) there’s something for everyone, i promise! <3

generally speaking, i enjoy writing in the same genres that i read! i write a lot of horror and post-apocalypse, but overall i am trying to develop a more literary style. my work tends to focus on anti-heroes and their super dysfunctional relationships. and lots of my favorite characters are queer-coded!

i want to venture into writing original fiction one day, so you can look forward to that!

my wips.

i only have one active wip at the moment, so that’s what i’m going to talk about here. i might introduce some of my future projects later if i’m able to get this blog off the ground!

the book i’m currently working on is a five nights at freddy’s fanfiction suburban horror novel. it doesn’t have a title yet, because i am notoriously indecisive and i haven’t found one that fits, so until i figure that out, i’ll be using temporary tags and referring to it vaguely as ‘my michael novel.’

the story features an unreliable narrator, sketchy family entertainment restaurants, and lots of paranormal activity!

summary:

michael afton is miserable. living alone in a crappy apartment, unable to hold down a steady job, and haunted by nightmares of a tragic event in his past, he starts to suspect that things will never get better. but then, his estranged father reaches out to him with an unexpected and cryptic offer, asking him to return to his hometown and take a job as a maintenance technician at an animatronic rental facility. though he is unhappy about returning to the town where he grew up, michael dutifully follows these instructions, convinced that rekindling a relationship with his father is the key to turning his life around. however, he quickly realizes things in the facility aren’t what they seem. something sinister is hidden inside those walls, and it’s putting michael’s life on the line. in order to discover the truth about his father—and, eventually, to make things right—michael has to come to terms with his own past mistakes.

it’s not a fantastic summary; i’ll probably rework it soon, and hopefully i will have an entire wip intro to share at some point!

aaand that’s pretty much it! if you’re interested in interacting with me at all, please don’t be afraid to reach out! i am always open to chat, especially about your wips—and feel free to include me in dash games, too! i want to interact with people as much as possible, to build a little space for myself on here with some new friends, and have fun. <3

i hope you enjoy my little corner of writeblr!

#writeblr #writeblr intro #writing #amwriting #creative writing #writers on tumblr #writing community #please boost this so i don’t get discouraged and fade away within a week lmao! #i really want this to work out <3 #also if you have any posts you want me to see feel free to send them my way and i will check them out!!

[rreskk]

Too bad, too good

To everything who has sent a request, please be patient. I'll answer whenever I find the energy! Momentarily, I'm focussing on personal projects right now until I'm mentally ready to properly construct a good fanfiction based on your request. Thank you for understanding!

Summary: Trevor Philips was bad news. You always ended up alone, ended up alone with him in bed. The constant promises to stop seeing him, as he was nothing but a waste of time, you'd break them the moment you feel his touch again. He was addicting... Even worse than a drug.

Pairings: Fem!reader/ Trevor Philips

Word count: 3,549

TW: -Smut

NORTH YANKTON – 2002.

God, the memories. The fucking memories. It antagonises you… It beats you half to death. A situationship so haywire and undeserving. You can just remember the fresh touch of his appalling hands all over your body. The drooling sight of his lips hugging your nipples and kissing away the tears of pleasure that would tumble down your dampened cheek. He’d practically manhandle you with passion, leaving all sorts of blemish and stains upon your skin. Back then, it was something you were proud of. His cruel love was a trophy for you to walk around with, holding that throne high up before reality defaces you and then all your delusions became Hellish.

You were too infused in the attraction that you didn’t see the Devil on his shoulder, that “id” playing games with your ego. The worst part; he can’t even recognise his own destruction. This fucking guy, the same man to fuck you nice and good in that crappy motel room… That same man you invited to your own home. You thought that the purpose of his rough hands were to keep you safe from the dark nights, not realising that he used them hands to kill, rob, destroy, torture. He lived in the dark nights and you – so blinded in this darkness – couldn’t see.

Yet neither could he.

However, you couldn’t just stop yourself. You had to be obsessed. He had to be obsessed. The naive attraction, it was mutual to an extent of pure possession and lust. You were scared of his potential. He was a career criminal, someone who could end your life with the snap of his fingers, but you keep ending up in bed, in that cum-stained mattress as he’d moan your name continuously. Them sweet, sensual noises being the cure to your bad days (even if he was the cause of most). You were stuck in this “relationship” with chained bars that stabs your ankles relentlessly whenever there was an exit or escape. Or even a chance.

You just hoped that one day, after whatever “job” he’s doing, that it would be his final exit and you’d be able live the rest of your life without that aching attraction to a bad, bad man.

“Stop, hold on. You’re going out? Where?” His low voice muffled from the telephone line. You were sitting on the edge of your bed wearing a classy outfit for a night-out with some friends. He had called from a random telephone box since he was still travelling around the town, trying to find a good “job” with his guys.

“Down that new bar in town. The company’s hosting an opening night and there’s going to be local bands playing with free drinks.” You explained, holding the phone between your shoulders and head since you were too busy putting on high-heels.

“Free drinks? Who’re you going with?”

“A couple of friends. We’re all getting a taxi there. It’s gonna be fun! The poster at work says it starts at nine and ends near four.

“Four in the morning? Christ… Who are these friends? They ain’t gonna drug ya, right? Try and get in your pants or something? ‘cause I’ll kill em – Shut up, Mikey! I’ll call for how long I fuckin’ want, you piece of turd!” Trevor’s friend, Michael, could be heard urging him to drop the phone, almost deafening you in the process, “Sorry, baby. That bastard keeps fucking my ass… Anyways, I don’t like these friends of yours.”

His jealousy and “protectiveness” made you frown. Moments like these really tested your patience, and he knew how annoying you found it. But will he stop? No. It’s Trevor, for God’s sakes, he’ll get any piece of information and will use it against you whenever he feels an ounce of insecurity.

“You never even met them.” You huffed.

“Fuckin’ why I don’t like em. C’mon, sugar, I ain’t no pillock. I just don’t want my girl running off.”

“Let me have my independence Trevor.”

“Listen, have independence, have whatever the fuck you want, ay? But I’ll be super pissed if you replace me. Fuck guys, fuck chicks, I don’t care! Hey! I couldn’t give two fucks.” He growled, his anger more prominent as this conversation goes against his comfort zone.

“Stop acting like I’m one of your whores – “

“For the last fuckin’ time, I don’t play with whores!”

“But you do love good old pussies from women twice your goddamn age down at the grocery store, huh?” You snapped and interrogated his fetish of maternal figures. It was a secret he likes to keep hidden under thousands of scars (from a witch he calls his mother).

“Oh, fuck you…”

“Yeah, fuck you too, Trevor. Let me have fun for once. I don’t need to hold your fucking hand wherever I go!”

Trevor’s pitch grew louder, “You say too much, [y/n]. Too fuckin’ much. Go and have you little fuck fest, I couldn’t give a crap!”

“It’s not a fuck fest!” You protested, finding the “end call” button more desirable with every passing second.

“Don’t lie – “ And you did. You hung up and threw your mobile-phone away.

The night resumed as you arrived at this bar, the place buzzing with the majority of North Yankton’s population considering it was a small state with low statistics of citizens. It was refreshing. You’d smile at all these different types of people. It was freedom, alas!

In case there were certain… “substances” you’d like to purchase in order to party hard, you saved up the stash of cash Trevor would give you (after every successful robbery). In total, you had over $250. The notes were rolled up and figured by an elastic band. It was in the condition he gave you. There were tiny specs of dried blood and dirty that covers some of the notes but it was blankly ignored, it wasn’t like they’d fully inspect nor see these criminal details through the dim, flashing lights.

“How much for the MDMA?” You shouted over the music to this apparent drug dealer who had stashes of ecstasy locked in his pockets.

“How many pills you want, lady?”

Unlike him, you were reasonable (whenever drugs were involved). You showed him one finger and he nodded.

“One pill is $45!” He announced.

You breathed out in astonishment. In a way, this would be the only opportunity for low-budget drug-dealers to really make an earning since, as mentioned before, North Yankton had lack of population, and the main stereotypes living around these areas would be Catholic-Christian families.

“Uhhh…” You stared down at your wad of cash before sighing, giving him a few notes that totalled the correct amount.

“Cheers, lady! You won’t regret it!” You were given the pill as the guy quickly shuffled away to avoid unwanted attention.

In a matter of seconds, you had returned to your friends (who were all high on something other) and showed them the pink pill. It looked intimidating but wanting. They began chanting you to pop it, handing a cup of cold beer to wash it down.

Everyone in this club were dancing and raving like it was the last supper. Your friends buggered off somewhere else and you were left, that pill slowly melting in your hand due to sweat. You wanted to try it, you really did – but the “what ifs” and “what could possibly happen.”

“I need to get my moneys worth.” You’d murmur to yourself, staring at this dissolving substance in your hand. You only live once, you only live once, you only live once… But – yet again – you couldn’t even hype yourself up.

“There goes my $45…” You watched the pill just fall out of use, sighing while also feeling relieved. The leftover particles crumbled to the floor until someone accidentally rushed into you, their alcoholic beverage spilling on your fine, short dress. You realised they must have been high as fuck since they giggled (statically) and wobbled off, believing that their cup was still… Full.

So, being left with a damp dress, you managed to find the ladies bathroom after pushing through the crowd of unconscious minds. There were a few others standing in front of the mirror, brushing their hair and such. You stood in between them both to rub away the excess of whatever drink was thrown. It was a peaceful atmosphere in the bathrooms. Both ladies had left when finished applying fresh make-up, etc, leaving you alone to recollect thoughts and social energy.

“Just enjoy your night… No worries, no stress, no – “ Your mobile phone, which was stuffed in your purse, began ringing.

You rummaged through your bag and found it, flipping the phone before an unrecognisable number was calling. You raised an eyebrow and answered, pressing the device to your ear.

“Hello?”

The line was still connected so you leaned against the sink and waited. It was static until it went silent.

“Hello?” You repeated.

Then that familiar gruffy voice connected to the other end. He cleared his throat, the background noise of musky, icy wind

“Oh, so you ain’t dropped dead in a dumpster?” Trevor smugly teased as you answered your phone-call.

Not this guy again, you thought yourself.

“Wow, hi, Trevor.”

“Ouch… Don’t be so short on me, [y/n]. Not havin’ a nice time? Want Uncle T to pick you up?”

“Can you go a few hours without calling, please?” You pled, finding his attachment issues overwhelming.

“Listen, me and the guys have finished our fuckin’ boys weekend or whatever. I got a taxi comin’ soon. We’re staying at the motel we used to go to.” He had completely ignored your request.

“Cool, yeah. Nice – “

“Are you partied out or what? I wanna see you again, before any other dick catches you first… Unless you already found a guy? You better not.”  

“No, I have not hooked up with anyone.” You mumbled.

“Why you mumbling? You sad about that, sugar? Are you sad no guy ain’t swept you off your feet? ‘Cause that’s my fuckin’ job. Be outside in 25 or I’m comin’ in.”

“Trevor – “ But the line was cut. You had no other choice now.

“That fucking asshole!” Once again, you had threw your phone out of spite. It fell onto the floor, not bothering to pick it up. That peace you once had the moment you stepped into the bathroom, it was now gone. Thank you, Trevor Philips. You at least hoped you could attempt to enjoy the night until four in the morning but of course, a certain someone had to pull you away before it could reach midnight.

It was pathetic.

You just wanted to block him but he was using another public telephone box. He also didn’t use a main phone, so there was no reliable number (in case you were to call him), but you preferred not to. If you ever did meet up, it was under his circumstance, not yours… “For my safety.” He’d say when you’d question this, then ramble on about the police tracking him, all that disorderly business (Which you try and avoid).

Nevertheless, time went on. Minutes after minutes after minutes. He may have underestimated the weather as it was snowing, heavily. You had to sit beside the front entrance and wait like a total moron. You watched these couples walk in and out, some laughing, some kissing, the majority were high (as well). They didn’t notice you sitting alone on the side, your purse tucked into your chest. The music from the main room was booming so the whole place was vibrating as a result. Your chair, that wasn’t even comfortable in the first place, was shuttling uncontrollably.

Eventual heavy footsteps occurred and when you glanced up, there he was. Your mullet man, the human version of a migraine. He had his green winters coat loosely wrapped around, a thick sweater underneath as well as the same pairs of faded, ripped jeans and some combat boots. Trevor saw you and smiled. He had snow particles in his moustache and strands of hair (that was tucked under the beanie he wore).

“There she is!” He proposed and gave you a tight embrace.

You struggled to hug back but when his arms wrapped around your waist, everything suddenly felt alright. You sighed and fell into his arms, hugging back.

“You took your time.” You spoke against his neck.

“Taxi driver refused to drive any fuckin’ faster,” Trevor pulled away until his smile turned into a scowl. He squinted his eyes at your short dress, “Woah, sugar. Why did you choose that dress? It’s cold outside. You’re gonna freeze your tits off.”

“I’ll warm up in the car.”

“You always say that but still complains about your toes going numb.”

“Shush!” You groaned.

“Yeah, yeah…” He held you closer before observing the front room, “So, this is the place? Looks real shady, I like it.”

“Of course you would.”

“Any druggies around?” He hoped.

You paused, not wanting to admit buying ecstasy that you didn’t even digest. Besides, you didn’t want to agree because you know he’ll drag you back into the main rooms to get some himself… And then, as it usually occurs, you’d have to escort him out like a bouncer. He had low tolerance for drugs and would pass out from an overdose, you had a feeling.

“No,” Trevor scowled at your response, “No druggies. Now can we go?”

“Oh, so you’re the one wanting to go now?” He grinned.

“You are already here?”

“Save your spunk for tonight, girlfriend. Fine, our carriage awaits outside!”

“The taxi car…” You mumbled and followed him.

When you were both seated at the back, Trevor gave the driver your address and the journey started. You both sat in silence. He’d occasionally let his hand gently caress your thigh. His eyes perked at your dress that was showing off quite a lot of your skin. You knew but decided to ignore it. Watching the scenery fly by from the window, Trevor frowned as your attention to him lacked. He tugged your skirting and mumbled your name.

“What?” You’d whine, quiet enough for the driver not to hear.

“Why are you ignoring me?”

“I’m not ignoring you. I’m just enjoying the peace.”

“I don’t like the peace.”

“Oh, that’s a ‘you’ problem.”

Trevor scoffed, “What’s up with you? Little miss shit yourself?”

“Don’t start.” You warned.

“Jesus Christ, [y/n]. I really don’t know what the whole fuckin’ deal is. You got mad at nothin’.”

“Says the angry criminal who has severe mother issues and drug addictions!” Now this was loud enough for the driver to hear. The poor man made eye-contact with you through the rear mirror. You’ve never seen someone so concerned.

“You take that back!” Trevor demanded, pointing a finger at your face.

“Oh, shut up!”

“Is everything okay – “

“SHUT THE FUCK UP AND DRIVE!” The taxi man was rudely yelled at by Trevor as the car almost swerved due to his outburst. You yelped and grabbed the door-handle for some support, the car going silent.

You took a deep breath before closing your eyes – trying your upmost best to keep… Calm.

“I’m just up here on the right…” You whispered, breaking the silence.

The car pulled up and you both got out. Without him knowing, you paid the driver double the amount as an apology. He gracefully accepted it, keeping a close eye on Trevor (clearly out of fear). The taxi finally drove off, leaving you both alone together outside your house.

“It’s so fuckin’ cold.” He grumbled and took the key from your hand, welcoming himself into your home.

You followed close behind. Trevor threw off his jacket and turned on the lights. You held every strength to not hit him right now. Whenever you look at him, rage just fuels your mind. The way he ruffled his mullet and brushed the tip of his fingers across his moustache. He walked up beside you, gently rubbing your shoulders and whispering in your ear.

“Don’t be angry at me, baby. I’m only looking out for you.” His breath making your spine spaz and shiver.

“You’re not good for me…” You whispered and fell into his arms.

“I know. But what’s bad without some good, ay?” He kissed your cheek warmly and smiled, “You’re beautiful.”

Knowing this was just some sweet talk to defuse the tension, abusing his charms to make him… Not so the “bad guy.” you relished and sighed. You wanted to stay angry, you wanted to quit seeing him. It was so hard to, though. His lean hands adventured lower as they reintroduced themselves with your thighs. Trevor kissed the back of your neck. He knew your weaknesses and that bloody bastard will trigger it.

“I’ve been thinking about you all week.”

“You probably forgot about me the moment you go to them strip-joints or whatever…”

He giggled and held your back against his chest, “If it makes you feel better, I pretend they are you.”

“Don’t lie.”

“I am not a liar. I’m strictly honest, my sweet. At the end of the day, I just pretend every fine stripper is you because I miss you.”

“Trevor…” You grumbled.

“I know…” He had kissed your cheek again, “But it’s true.”

“You are really bad for me.”

“Say that again.”

“You are reall – “ And he grabbed your jaw, his lips colliding with yours. You had gasped at the sudden kiss. He completely swallowed your words and kissed you passionately, your surroundings becoming dizzy and surreal.

Trevor pulled away and smirked when you grew disappointed. He nibbled your earlobe and whispered once again.

“Bend over.”

You chewed on your lower lip and nodded. Leaning over your sofa, he had pulled your skirt up and slapped your ass.

“I love you, baby.” He’d seduce while fondling every ounce of your curvy legs and hips.

“Jesus…” You covered your mouth, squeezing your eyes shut. Hearing the zipper of his flies, you couldn’t help but desperately grind your ass against his now naked crotch.

Trevor cackled and forced you to remain in the same position. He used his pinkie to pull your undies aside, gently caressing your intimacy with a hardened thumb. You heaved out a shaky breath when he’d rub your clit, enjoying the way your legs struggled to hold your body weight.

“Easy goes…” He praised.

“Trevor, c’mon…”

“I’m cum on you in a second, babe.”

You rolled your eyes before –

“FUCK!”

He had pushed his cock inside your pussy, holding your waist so you remained lined up. His hands helped steady the pace as you both moaned through the heated affections.

“Fuck, I’ve been… Fuckin’ waiting for this all fuckin’ week…” Trevor heaved lowly and thrusted back into your sex.

“Oh, shit!”

“My sexy girl, ohhh… I’m a lucky man.”

You’d accidentally push the sofas forward as he was fucking you rough. Small squeals would leave your wet lips and the thought of him being a 24/7 asshole had escaped your pleasured mind. You rocked back into his dick and whimpered when his crotch slapped your ass in the process.

“God, Trevor!”

“Urgh, fuck – “ Trevor whimpered, “I fuckin’ love you, [y/n]. Shit!”

“I want it so bad, baby!”

“You do, huh?”

“Yes, yes! Harder!” And you didn’t even have to say “please.”

“Of course, yes… Anything,” He’d pathetically pant while speaking, “Anything for you, anythi –  Ohhh… Shit!”

Now he was fucking you much harder, definitely leaving behind a red rashes from where his pubes would grind your skin. The situation was haywire. He was bad news but it didn’t stop him from making you feel so good. He continued thrusting in and out for minutes straight, your house echoed with moans and wasteful cries.

“I’m gonna cum!” You announced when a tingling grew more strong.

Trevor allowed a small gasp to pass as he was racing into your pussy. He pressed his face against the back of your neck and repeated the merciful chants of your name.

“Oh, oh! – “ The feeling grew more intense and you practically used one hand to reach behind, grabbing his wrist that stationed on your waist.

“Fuck ME!” He growled, his cock squirting and leaking his semen, breeding you with the warm liquid. You fell into a state and your knees collapsed, holding the sofa for stability as you too came.

One second turned to 5 minutes and you were still entangled in each other’s bodies. Trevor was the first to move as he’d slowly put away his penis and rub your back.

“Pretty girl.” Murmured Trevor, kissing your cheek and smiling when you finally found mobility.

“You’re an idiot, Trevor.” You smiled playfully.

“An idiot who knows how to treat you better than any other turd out there, [y/n]. Remember that!”

“How could I forgot?”

“You won’t, ‘cause you’ll never forget about me,” He smirked, “I’ll always be around.”

And you knew. The cycle always went from arguments, jealousy, possessiveness, intimacy. It was a horrid potion yet it was your favourite potion.

“Are you gonna stay the night or what?” You called out, limping up the stairs.

“No, I’ll just sleep outside, yeah?”

“Shut up and come on then!”

Trevor happily giggled and ran up, following you up the dark stairs.

#trevor philips #grand theft auto 5 #gta v #grand theft 5 #grand theft auto #gta 5 #trevor gta #grand theft auto v #trevor philips/reader #trevor philips x reader #trevor phillips #trevor gta5 #trevor philips fanfiction #trevor philips headcanons #trevor philips/you #trevorphilips #grandtheftauto5 #grandtheftauto #my fanfiction #my fanfic writing

[freuleinanna]

Halloween Ends proudly takes place as the shittiest franchise finale prolly ever made 🥰🥰🥰🥰 the whole thing looked like a self-insert fanfiction from that corey bitch as he jumps the plot out of nowhere and writes himself the cheesiest "misunderstood white boy with trauma" arc and a love story just as dumb, featuring tropes like "you are I are outcasts and therefore must be together forever" and "I've known you for exactly 5 minutes but you are the only one who understands me, now let's ditch this shithole together".

the film can't decide what it wants the plot to be. the writers all but finger us with the idea of evil being an infection, and then oops, it's not, it's a catalyst for the evil already inside. which is also weird but ok. I thought Halloween Kills was bad, but they actually went for the urban legend vibe that time, and it was actually interesting. I liked the idea of Michael being tied to the town and ultimately existing because of people's fear of him. I'm not sure I liked the idea of Michael being instead a fucking covid prototype and spreading evil (tm).

I certainly didn't fucking like the idea of Laurie and Michael doing their final stand off by a fucking chance? listen, it's THEIR story. you can explore the nature of evil in your spare screen time, but a generic basic no-name bitch corey had no place in the story. it did not perpetuate the plot, it did not explain Michael, it did not explore the possibilities of evil. it was fucking useless.

I guess I'm bitter, because the whole point of reboot was to finish the story of Laurie and Michael. The tremble I got from the trailer where Laurie unlocks the door on a Halloween night? AMAZING. In reality, they literally met by chance and I wasn't sure either of them wanted to fight. Michael just popped by to take his mask and kindly fuck off to his sewers like a tired grandpaw.

the 2018 film got us the neverending circles and unfinished business between Laurie and Michael, that neither of them could let go of, while structuring the idea of the Strode legacy through generations. the 2022 film fucked us over and showed nada. I'd rather watch Laurie kill Michael in the 5 mins of the film and then going on a killing spree the next Halloween because her trauma became her darkness.

all in all, I'm pissed cause the whole franchise came down to both main characters becoming utterly irrelevant to their own story,

#halloween ends #michael myers #laurie strode #halloween ends spoilers

[subukunojess]

DJTober 2023: A Monthly Fan Creation Challenge

Introducing, a new Fan Art/Fan Fiction Challenge for the Month of October 2023!

Links: Archive of Our Own and Spotify Playlist.

I always like monthly fanfiction and fan art challenges in certain months that create new work and get the creative flow going. So I decided I wanted to make my own challenge that anyone could join.

Information and Text version of Prompts under the cut:

So what is DJTober? It is a challenge where you can draw or write based on random songs and verses as the daily prompts. I picked the name because it was different and I think Songtober was already taken. You can either post fan art or write fanfic or create a gif or anything that you feel like creating! Will this be a thing? Who knows? Will I make a side blog for this? It depends. Either way, I'm going to try this challenge myself and share it with others.

A couple of things to note:

In order for me to see your work on your platform (either Tumblr or AO3), please use the tags: #DJTober and #DJTober2023.

You can write a one-shot or multiple chapters, one fandom or multiple, and dark/whump/NSFW are allowed as well. Just make sure to tag appropriately and be mindful of triggers/content warnings.

Having said that, I do not allow things like pedophilia or similar in the works. I will immediately remove it and/or take drastic measures if need be.

Your fic can either be inspired by the song itself or by the suggested verse in the picture, or a different lyric of your choice. You can even have someone say the lyric in a quote. Your fic does not have to be a songfic.

You do not have to go in order of the list and you can start as early or late as you want. Just be aware that the collection that is opened now will remain unmoderated until the end of the first week of November.

Without further ado, here are the prompts:

Life's no fun without a good scare. (This Is Halloween from Nightmare Before Christmas)

2) All of your time spent keeps us alive. (Larger Than Life by Backstreet Boys)

3) Think of it as my desire for you. (Chant from Hadestown)

4) Tell me you love me in private. (Montero (Call Me By Your Name) by Lil Nas X)

5) I'm wearing my heart like a crown, pretending that you're still around. (The Great Pretender by The Platters)

6) I'm far renowned in the underground and you can't take that from me. (Land of the Dead by Voltaire)

7) Because you're mine. (I Put A Spell On You, either Screamin' Jay Hawkins or the Hocus Pocus version)

8) No one else takes care of me. (Independent Women, pt 1 by Destiny's Child)

9) Just what to do. Help them to help you. (The Pitiful Children from Be More Chill)

10) Talk so pretty, but your heart got teeth. (Teeth by 5 Seconds of Summer)

11) Go ahead and kick it up a notch if your life is at a level too low. (Kick It Up A Notch from Starkid's Starship)

12) Don't have the heart to live in the fast lane. (Worthless from The Brave Little Toaster)

13) And no one's gonna save you from the beast about to strike. (Thriller by Michael Jackson)

14) May your feet serve you well and the rest be sent to Hell. (Let's Kill Tonight by Panic! At The Disco)

15) This plant is talking to you. (Sominex/Suppertime II from Little Shop of Horrors)

16) Your beauty never ever scared me. (Mary on a Cross by Ghost)

17) Music and passion were always the fashion at the Copa. Don't fall in love. (Copacabana by Barry Manilow)

18) Part of life's eternal rhyme. (Mother Earth and Father Time from Charlotte's Web)

19) You can't reason with a headless man. (The Headless Horseman, any version)

20) With a taste of poison paradise. (Toxic by Britney Spears)

21) Ain't it the sweetest noises in town, that beautiful sound? (That Beautiful Sound from Beetlejuice the Musical)

22) What you gon' do when there's blood in the water? (Blood // Water by grandson)

23) Because a caricature is all they know. (Candle Queen by Ghost and Pals)

24) If you stay close to me in my dreams tonight. (Dreams to Dream from American Tail: Fieval Goes West)

25) Don't ever laugh as a hearse goes by. (The Hearse Song, any version)

26) We're hand to hand, chest to chest, and now, we're face to face. (Don't Stop the Music by Rihanna)

27) Would you please send directions on how I can get where you are? (T.E.A.M./The Baseball Game from You're A Good Man, Charlie Brown)

28) Sip the gossip, drink til you choke. (Gossip by Maneskin)

29) So sweet. So cold. So fair. (St. James Infirmary by Cab Calloway)

30) Every day, I'll take you higher and I'll never let you fall. (Let Me Be Your Wings from Thumbelina)

31) Writer's Choice/Request/Free Space (You can either choose a favorite song of your own, request a song on your blog for others to suggest, or use this as a free space/day to write whatever you want).

If you have any additional questions, feel free to contact me. Please reblog to spread the word!

#DJTober #DJTober2023 #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 #fan art #challenge #song #music #verse #prompt #october #I jut noticed now that I spelled notch wrong oops #I already picked a song for my free space #it's on the playlist #I'm hoping to add to the playlist for all other choice songs someone comes up with #please reblog and spread the word #more detailed rules are on the AO3 collection #if you have questions please ask me

[milkymoon2483]

The Blue Elephant

Push & Pull - Episode 1 Frank Castle X Plus Size Jewish OFC

Series Masterlist | Next Episode

Summary: DBF but dad’s dead. Your’e going back to your small town for your father’s funeral and Shiva. You know you’re about to face family drama but what worries you the most is that you’re going to see HIM.

Disclaimers: 

This episode mentions a 14 year old girl having an UNRECIPROCATED crush on a much older man. HE SEES HER AS A CHILD at this point. 

I’m Jewish (and plus size) but I do not live in the US, so there might be some differences in the way certain things are done and some inaccuracies. My apologies. 

Yes this is self indulgent because I’m feral for this man.

I’m secular and will not be discussing Judaism in length. Will explain some basics though that are mentioned in the story.

Rating: E.18+. MINORS DNI.

Warnings: Teenage crush on a much older man, Mentions of alcoholism, divorce, trauma, plus size reader, insecurities, age gap, violence, sex, food, and probably a bunch of other stuff. This is a little dark. WC: ~3300

Thank you my lovelies. @romanarose @hbc8 @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @boysddontcry @imaswellkid

The blue elephant.

Your phone rang in an ungodly hour, waking you up from a dream you had forgotten as soon as you opened your eyes.  8:15 AM. Who dares calling you this early on semester break?! 

"Hello, am I speaking to Hannah Friedman?" 

"Hi, yes, who is this?" You answered, barely recognizing your own voice that was hoarse with sleep.  

"Miss Friedman, my name's Michael Katz, I was your father's attorney. I'm very sorry for your loss. I'm calling regarding his will." 

Confusion flooded you, and for a moment you were sure the man calling had the wrong number.

Suddenly your heart dropped, the true meaning of his words not fully sinking into your skull just yet. 

"Miss Friedman….?" His voice tried to break the long pause. 

"Yeah, I'm sorry, could you repeat that?"

"I'm calling regarding your father's will, since he passed away…" 

"Shit. Sorry, I just…I didn't know. Shit. When did it happen?" 

Your father was dead.

Michael Katz, bless his heart, apologized profusely for the terrible way you had to find out. He proceeded to explain everything in great detail, making sure to schedule a meeting with you as soon as you got into town for his funeral. He died in the early hours of the previous evening. Cirrhosis complications after years of excessive drinking, that’s what finally did him in, a part of you was surprised he lasted that long. 54 years old at the time of his death, Saul Friedman was a sick man, and not much of a father to begin with. A recovering alcoholic at the best of times, he rarely called or took much interest in your life, despite living 45 minutes away. 

When you turned twelve things changed for the better, after bumping into you on a trip to a local supermarket with your mom and her new boyfriend, he suddenly felt an urgent need to get sober, and get to know you better. Your mother agreed, she took less convincing than both of you had anticipated. You ended up visiting more, and staying for a few weeks each summer, the community pool around the corner being your main incentive. Your relationship was never able to fully recover, but you both tried your best. You’d often say you loved him but sometimes didn’t really like him. 

Your mother was his second wife, and after three years of marriage and one kid, they divorced, very much non-amicably, leaving a trail of wreckage behind them.  You were thankful that you were just a toddler, too young to truly understand how deeply they've wounded each other clawing their way out of what your mother described to be the ‘worst three years of my goddamn life’.  You'd often wonder, had she not been jewish, would she be saved from the displeasure of ever marrying him in the first place. Your grandparents must have insisted on him having jewish children, and according to Halacha*, their mom had to be one. 

You remembered the last time you visited him, the visit was cut short when you caught him drinking again. “ You don't get to preach me” he lashed out at you,  “You’re a bitch just like your mother”. 

You left abruptly after that, not willing to take more of his crap. At that point you were visiting for him, because you felt obligated to do that. That sense of obligation was gone.

He called to apologize a few weeks later, but the dry conversation left much to be desired. Since then you’ve called and texted occasionally, but you never came to visit again, coming up with various excuses to avoid it. 

Now he was dead.

"At least he knew when to die.." you later told your best friend, Grace. He had the sensibility to pass on right at the beginning of the winter break from college, giving you a good few weeks to deal with it before coming back to school to finish your final year. You could share your appreciation for your fathers morbid timing with Grace, but there was one thing you couldn't. A thought so shameful you smacked it back to where it came from as soon as it surfaced. You refused to acknowledge it, refused to name it, there would be no talking and no thinking of him. Not right now.

It was about as effective as telling yourself not to think about a blue elephant. You kept playing the game of 'whack a mole' with your brain, and kept losing.  Your father was dead, and it took you mere seconds to realize that you’re going to see him.

Summer 2013

You looked at yourself in the water- damaged mirror, it was crooked and filled with specks of rust, large stains of disilvering ate away at your reflection. The one piece purple bathing suit was wet, clinging to your form, accentuating the awkward lumpiness of your chest and belly under the harsh fluorescent lighting. Your mother picked it out with you, from the sale rack in TJmaxx’s women’s department. That miserable shopping trip almost made you cry. Most of them did. Your adolescent body didn't look right, didn't feel right. It was all too much, too round, too full. You’d follow your much smaller mother around the shops, gradually losing hope with every one you passed, settling eventually on another trip to Starbucks. An iced vanilla latte was sure to cheer you up.  You took solace in your sunglasses, rimmed in a bright red thick frame. The ones you nagged your dad into buying you, they made you feel cool. As cool as you could, that is. A piece of 'coolness' that belonged to you. You placed them on your nose with a slight sense of pride, heading out of the bathrooms. 

Your eyes searched for him immediately, finding him lounging on one of the sun-beds. Alone. Walking as inconspicuously as you could, you sat on the bed next to him, pretending not to notice him. You dove head first into your bag, looking for your phone. don’t look at him, don't look at him. Your thoughts raced, desperately hoping that he would be the one to look at you.

You've known Frank for a couple of years, as your dad's friend and neighbor. He would often join you for Shabbat dinner, bringing a bottle of a non- alcoholic beverage or some fruit. He was younger than your dad but you weren't sure by how much.

You’ve always found him hot, it was impossible not to, with his sharp jaw and boyish smile. He was tall and broad and handsome. You nursed your little secret crush on him, getting excited and giddy every time he came to visit, not daring to mention to anyone that you even found this old man so attractive.

This, however, was the first time you’ve seen him shirtless, and your fourteen year-old self could not handle the sight. You gawked at the grown man uncontrollably, your gaze hidden only by your ‘cool’ sunglasses.  The biceps, the pecs, the broadness of his shoulders and the way his torso tapered into his waist. The dip of his spine, the muscles of his back, the way the droplets of water clung to his skin and made it glisten…it all made your brain short- circuit, melt under the fog of hormones.

“Hey kiddo, I like the sunglasses” He suddenly said, in a tone more cheerful than you’d expected.

“Thanks” you muttered. It took your poor brain a few attempts to signal your mouth to smile. You hated it when he called you ‘kiddo’. You wished it would be ‘sweetheart’ or ‘darling' or ‘doll’.

“Can I try them on?” he smirked.

You handed them to him without a word, scrunching your face at the sun. Youv'e learned that it is often better to say nothing rather than risk embarrassing yourself. 

Frank put them on, they looked ridiculous of course, the bright red cat-eye was in sharp juxtaposition to his purely masculine features. He chuckled and pulled on the temple tips behind his ear- bouncing them on his large nose, causing you to giggle. 

"There she is! Don't be so serious all the time, kiddo. Have some fun" he smiled and handed them back to you, the tip of his finger brushing against yours. Never washing my hands again. You decided, as he got up and headed towards the pool. Your eyes followed him as usual, admiring the broadness of him. 

The water was buzzing with activity, and all you could think about is how much you'd love it to be empty. It was far too crowded to swim, but it did allow you to keep staring uninterrupted. 

The friendly game of 'throw the ball as hard as you can and cause the biggest splash' was on. Your dad had your cousin  Jacob on his shoulders, the scrawny nine year old was doing quite a bit of damage, landing a throw so accurate it splashed violently all across Frank's face. 

Frank shook the water off, spotting you in the corner of the pool, and swam right towards you. "Come on Hannah banana, I need your help, let's get em' " he smiled widely, and before you had a chance to respond he dove underneath you. 

The gravity beneath you shifted as he began lifting you up from the water. You yelped loudly and grabbed tightly at the head that popped up between your legs, trying to steady yourself. 

You haven't done this since you were seven, when you were light enough to be held on anyone's shoulders, but Frank lifted you up effortlessly, like you weighed nothing, like it was no trouble at all. 

Your thighs squeezed against his neck and shoulders. The ball somehow landed in your hands but all you could think about were franks palms, gripping your legs tightly, keeping you firmly on him. A heady mixture of emotions stirred in your belly. The fear of falling into the pool, mixed with the exhilaration of Frank's hands on your thighs. You could see his large fingers pressing into your flesh, and it was making your head spin. 

You threw the ball as hard as you could, landing a pretty decent splash on your aunt's face. She laughingly demanded her son 'avenge her'. A few more splashes and Jacob came face to face with you, attempting to push you off Frank's shoulders. The poor kid clearly underestimated your determination, and promptly landed in the water, ass first. Frank cheered you on, patting his large palm on your leg before letting you fall into the pool with a little nudge. You emerged from the water laughing, the adrenaline coursing through your veins so potent you could not stop, giggling almost uncontrollably as it sizzled through you.  "Yeah! We win! suck it!" Frank's arms wrapped around you in a tight hug, your body reciprocated before your mind had a chance to catch up, squishing your cheek against his chest. It was over before you even realized. A quick innocent congratulatory hug, that pressed you against his solid frame that towered over you, sending your already overstimulated brain into a tailspin.

*******

You remembered that day vividly, in detail, every part of your visit to the pool was etched into your mind. It was like a switch flipped, or a wire was plugged in, sometimes you likened it to a detonation of a bomb.  It confused you at first, you were flooded with something so potent that it took you a while to recognize what that was. The tingling sensation between your thighs was familiar, but it was never this intense.  The deep shameful truth was that from that day forward, Frank Castle was responsible for the vast majority of your orgasms, without touching you once. It horrified you at first, especially when you learned that he was 19 years older than you. You were disgusted with yourself, with the thoughts that kept getting increasingly more explicit as you aged. It didn’t matter if you were touching yourself or having sex with someone else. It didn’t matter how it started, it would almost always end with him. His voice, his hands, his face, thinking about him was the sure fire way of making yourself cum. 

You hated yourself for thinking about him right now, on the way to your fathers fucking funeral. It was like a pavlovian response you could not shake. You were equal parts hoping you'd see him and dreading the thought of facing him. It’s been three years since you saw him last, and something changed that day.

Hanukkah 2019

The snow was piling outside, a wintery scene in complete contrast to the heat in your dad's kitchen. You were with your aunt Deborah, Jacob’s mom.  She always loved it when you came to visit, she loved it especially when she got to spend time cooking with you. Being a boy-mom, they never took interest in her cooking. You however loved it, your mother was never much of a cook and this was your chance to learn from a true expert. You were making Sufganiyot* for Hanukkah. The jewish bakery made them well, but Aunt Deborah’s were divine. Something about adding buttermilk to the dough.

When Frank came that day it wasn’t planned. “Deb, are you making the jewish doughnuts again? I can smell it all the way across my yard, you’re killing me” his voice boomed as he entered the house. Your heart skipped. You were in your apron, covered in flour, and very much unprepared to see the man you harbored a weird sexual obsession towards. 

“Come in Frank, they’re still hot” Deborah replied as she met him at the door, and Frank's heavy boots marched straight to the kitchen.

“Oh, hey there Hannah banana” he greeted you fondly, giving you a small wave. 20 years old, and still "Hannah banana"... 

“Hey Frank” you waved back, not taking your eyes off the man. 

He plucked a fresh warm Sufgania off the tray, covered in powdered sugar, with a little dollop of red jam on top. “Mmmm come here baby” he growled and stuffed his face into the soft dough, taking a huge bite, muttering “oh my god” and rolling his eyes back in pleasure. This man will be the death of you.

Frank chewed in delight as you tried not to laugh at him, his nose was covered in powdered sugar and jam. He looked back at you, fully aware of the dire situation of his face. “What? What?? I got something on my face?” he smirked, prompting you to giggle.

“Come here Kiddo, you have to taste this”.

He began to slowly advance towards you, before fully chasing you around the kitchen with the Sufgania in hand. You squealed, ‘trying’ to get away from him and ‘failing’. When he finally caught you and cornered you against the wall, he stuffed the remaining dough in your face. You laughed hysterically while attempting to clean your face from the sugar and jam, wiping a small drop from the corner of your mouth with your thumb, and sucking the finger, looking up at Frank through your lashes. Your eyes met at that exact moment, and for a beat you both got quiet. Too quiet.

His laughter faded into a polite smile almost instantly, as he backed off and walked out of the kitchen. 

He never touched you again after that day. He was not even around for the rest of your visit. You saw him once more, just when you were leaving back to college. Instead of the usual goodbye hug he settled for a wave and a “Bye kiddo”, shortly disappearing back into the house. 

Maybe he saw something in your eyes, something inappropriate that shouldn’t have been there in the first place. Maybe that’s when he realized that every time he touched you was like pouring gasoline into a raging fire. Maybe things could have been different, if only you were older, thinner, sexier…not just Saul’s chubby awkward kid. 

It only took a second, one fucking second for Frank to notice what was right in front of him this whole goddamn time. One look into your soft eyes, One flick of pink tongue on your finger, and it was all clear. The thought traveled so fast from his cock to his brain he barely stopped it in time, running out of that kitchen as fast as humanly possible. You were just a kid, Saul’s kid. It was obviously sick to think about you in any other capacity. 

He remembered the time you all went ice skating, how he held your little hand when you kept stumbling and falling. The time when he took you for your first unofficial driving lesson just before you turned 16, in the empty supermarket parking lot. The time when you called him looking for your dad, he told you he’s probably asleep, and you began crying because you knew what that meant.

Were you looking at him like that the entire time? You had no fucking business looking at him like that. How dare you look at him like that.

*******

You had just a few hours to get ready and make the trip back into your hometown for the funeral the following morning. Knowing how jewish funerals worked you weren't surprised, most are buried within 48 hours of passing. 

Just a 3 hour trip from college, it felt like a different planet. You looked out of the frosted car window as Deborah was driving you both to her house, where the shiva* would be held. The snow fell softly and the storefronts decorated for Christmas gave your small town a charming cozy atmosphere. You could almost forget where you were headed. 

Beth Moses cemetery was eerily foggy, the two dozen people who had gathered for your father’s funeral were murmuring almost silently to each other. 

“You shouldn’t have worn that. And take that lipstick off, this is not a party.” your mother whispered as loudly as she possibly could, not taking into consideration that her voice carried. “Cover yourself up, here take my scarf” , you let her drape the back scarf over you, covering the dark gray sweater dress you were wearing under your coat, the one she deemed inappropriate because it showed some cleavage and clung to your belly a little too much for her liking. 

“Well, thanks for the kriah* I won’t be wearing this again after this week, mother” you replied sarcastically. Even though sarcasm never seemed to work on that woman, she was immune to your snide comments, nothing could penetrate the thick layer of self righteousness she wore like her favorite garment the whole fucking time.

“Hey Han”  Your heart skipped a beat at the sound of the familiar deep voice. He appeared before you almost instantly, mercifully tearing your attention from your mother and her constant disapproval. He leaned in for a polite hug, the scent of his cologne flooding your senses, spicy and crisp. He looked the same, just like you remembered and envisioned thousands of times. Same intense dark eyes, same strong jaw, same boxer's nose that you adored. 

“How have you been?” he asked, his voice quiet and grave.

“Hey Frank, I’m ok, yeah..” you replied, robotically, still a little shocked to see him again. 

"Jackie…" he acknowledged your mother with a nod, before proceeding to greet other members of the family. 

The small crowd surrounded the newly dug grave, muttering “amen” with the rabbi as he read the Kadish*. The vapor from their mouths like a silent choir in the cold.

Sunshine broke briefly through the clouds as Saul Friedman’s casket was lowered into the earth. There was something pathetic about how small it looked, and your heart wrenched at the sight. Debora’s silent tears prompted your own but you sniffled, looking up, not allowing them to escape. “Shalom aba” you mumbled as you placed a small stone on the mound of soil that now covered him…

FIN.

Series Masterlist | Next Episode

Halacha - Jewish scripture. According to the rules in order for a person to be considered Jewish their mother needs to be Jewish. (according to Orthodox Judaism) Shiva - “Seven” - a period of seven days after the funeral when the family mourns the death. People often come to visit several times during the shiva. Kriah - “Tearing” - When a next of kin dies, the nuclear family members (parents, children, siblings) have their garments torn, to symbolize mourning. The garment is discarded after the shiva. Sufganiyot - (Singular: Sufganya) - Jewish doughnuts, served on Hanukkah. Traditionally filled with jam and topped with powdered sugar.  Kaddish - A prayer said during the jewish funeral.  Shalom Aba - “Goodbye dad” 

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#frank castle #frank castle x female reader #frank castle angst #jon bernthal #jewish representation #jewish reader #x plus size reader #original character

[kurain-genealogy]

I don't keep up with fnaf drama but I'm nosy, what happened if I might ask?

ok umm. so. 2 separate situations, one of which was speedran.

first, The Talbert Files

this is something that was first discovered about a year ago apparently (i wasn't aware), but popped up again more prominently in the last few days.

basically, the talbert files is a community nickname given for a very very early draft of the freddy files that was leaked. entom on twitter, a reliable source for book leaks in particular, saw it, and several of his friends/other prominent names in the fnaftwt community apparently also saw it ("the talbert group").

i don't know the exact timeline of when or how things happened, but it recently was brought up again, i think some of it leaked or something, and everyone who had been in the know about the talbert files vehemently claimed that it was their group fanfiction, it was just something between friends and wasn't real.

then like a day later someone leaked/posted their dms (without permission) with entom that basically confirmed the talbert files were real. the talbert group relented and admitted it was real.

entom's dms getting leaked + receiving harassment caused him to deactivate their account

a pdf that described the books contents started going around, and it's filled with some CRAZY stuff. it begins with an email sent to scott cawthon about the leak and what they should do with it - he explained that it's essentially a bunch of ideas rather than a coherent story, it was obviously scrapped, and they can do what they want with it (when it comes to making it public or not). actual lore contents of the book include the MCI kids' last names, phone guy's name, michael afton originally being the stitchwraith, cassidy being both the puppet and golden freddy somehow, and a bunch more. it is basically all outdated and None of it should be considered canon. you can check it out here if you want

so because it felt basically confirmed, people were talking about it. but then scott cawthon makes some comments, and then an official post on reddit, saying that it's fake.

cue the talbert group on twitter losing their SHIT and doubling down on it being real, and that scott is either lying or Forgot or something. like all of them are so diehard on this that i can't believe they're lying? so all in all it's been settled that they're fake via word of god, but i still have some doubt because. what is this situation???

TL;DR: scrapped book draft leaked, those who knew about it insisted it was fanfiction in a cia type coverup, dms leak confirming they're real, it's the talk of the town for a bit, then scott cawthon makes a statement that they're actually fake, but fanfic-coverup group insists they were real the whole time.

meanwhile...

the PinkyPills situation

pinkypills is an artist that has been doing official work for fnaf for YEARS (all of the freddy in space games visuals, the silver eyes graphic novel, a handful of book covers for FF/TFTPP such as tiger rock).

she has a number of allegations towards her that i won't go into, but you can read it all here (ranges from p/doish weirdness to art tracing to generally being a whiny weirdo bitch). the freddit mods wrote up this whole thing and pinned the thread. several times the community has rallied to try to get her fired.

following scott's statement on the talbert files situation, several people were annoyed that he addressed that within a few days, but nothing about pinkypills.

like an hour later, he makes a post addressing it. basically saying like "idk the full extent but she deserves a second chance ok." got downvoted to hell

another hour passes. pinkypills posts this to twitter:

so she suddenly is resigning herself ? lmao. she also posted a vid on twitter where she is/was crying

then scott posts an update on reddit saying basically the same thing, that she chose to step away.

the timing makes it seem like he did indeed ask/tell her to not. be involved anymore. but who's to say.

regardless, people are happy she's gone, but extremely disappointed in how scott handled everything (seemingly not looking into things before posting, maybe not being entirely truthful, not outwardly condemning a p/do weirdo that works for him even tho he's done that Before, whatever)

and just a few months ago there was another drama thing where someone on reddit posted screenshots and very real looking screen recordings of an email with scott that basically confirmed talesgames and stitchlinegames. the community was On Fire for a bit until scott showed up to make comments like "guys, that wasn't fucking me." but then when asked about the canonicity of the books he gave another "Yes" ass answer that isn't an answer at all, and that kept people arguing for another few days.

#ask #Anonymous #THIS IS SO LONG SORRY. LOL. #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #this is not meant to be comprehensive so i may have gotten things wrong