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mediumgayitalian · 18 days

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part two

———

Getting outrun for seven miles by an eight year old is a uniquely humbling experience. Compactly humiliating, coincidentally, is being outrun by an eight year old while dragging along a bouquet large enough that it cannot be adequately contained with two hands and must therefore be carried between two people.

Lee is having something of an afternoon.

“It starts in seven minutes!” shouts Will, at least twelve solid yards ahead of them and running backwards. He does not appear even to be sweating. “Hurry!”

“Could not be hurrying more if I tried,” Lee wheezes.

(It’s not that Lee isn’t a good runner. He is. It’s that Will is freakishly fast, because he has dimples when he smiles and has endeared himself to the dryads, who have been teaching him how to sprint like the hopped up little Energizer Bunny he is. Michael has been calling him Soda Boy for ages, on account of how he so closely resembles a can of pop that has been vigorously shaken, which he hates. Remembering it brings Lee some peace.)

“Let’s go let’s go let’s go!”

Clamping his mouth shut in a desperate attempt to preserve energy, Lee surges forward. Michael matches him, having to run significantly faster to keep up with his long legs. Their panting forms a discordant melody of despair. Poetic.

When they stumble through the door, chests heaving, Lee considers collapsing to the ground and weeping for joy. He will never run again. If a monster chases him, he will simply fight or accept his fate. He has reached his quota.

But, for perhaps the first time in his life, there is no time for dramatics. The lobby is devoid of the massive crowds it held earlier, shadows eerie in their absence, and only the final tail end of a line shuffles through the stage doors.

Despite his internal vow, Lee sprints forward to catch up with them.

“Hold it,” says a man in a venue volunteer! vest, holding up a hand. He glances at them, resting his gaze on Will’s messy hair, Michael’s scuffed shoes, Lee’s wrinkled shirt, and pausing for quite a while on the giant bouquet. The narrowed eyes and thinned lips are familiar. Lee stiffens.

“Go on in,” the man says to the middle aged couple in front of them, who’s crease-free jackets read ‘Dance Mom’ and ‘Prop Team Dad’ respectively. He shoos them inside, complimenting the honest-to-Apollo corsage in the woman’s hand, chortling along to the man’s joke. The laughter drops from his face the second the couple is guided through the doors, and the man turns back to the three of them.

“The show,” he says, nose upturned, “has begun. I can’t let anyone else in lest they cause any…disturbances.”

“The show starts on three minutes and forty-seven seconds!” Will protests, sticking his watch in the man’s face. Completely oblivious to his murderous look, he continues, “Forty-six seconds! Forty-five! Time’s-a-tickin’, let us in!”

The man bares his teeth in a smile. “Regrettably, you are too late. You’ll have to wait for the intermission.”

Will blinks at him. He looks at Lee, at the doors, then back at the man.

“But…we’re on time. And if we come back later, we’ll miss my sister’s dance!”

The man shrugs. “This will be a valuable lesson, then.” He purses his lips, glancing again at the bouquet. “Perhaps be more prepared, next time.”

Will turns back to Lee and Michael, crestfallen. He swipes quickly under his eyes, squeezing his thumb into fists, but the tears well up anyway. “We’re going to miss it?”

Michael snarls. In one quick move he shoves the massive bouquet entirely into Lee’s arms, yanks Will by the shoulders to stand behind him, and gets right in the man’s face.

“You listen here, you slimy ratbag, you had no fuckin’ trouble letting those last scragglers in so you better clean up your act quick before I —”

A loud crashing noise makes them all jump, interrupting him. Nearly crushing the flowers, Lee whips towards the source of the sound. One of the competition banners has been yanked down, metal frame collapsing on the tile floor. Fastening screws rattle to a slow stop beside it.

“What the —”

Another banner crashes to the floor. This time, the little hands that tore it down are a touch too slow to dart away, a blonde head not quick enough to duck behind a corner.

“Hey!” the man shouts. Shoving Michael aside, and moving quicker than Lee can think to stop him, he sprints towards the corner Will disappeared behind. “Get back here! You can’t do that!”

Lee curses, trying to manoeuvre the flowers to see and run at the same time. Michael runs ahead of him, on the man’s heels, chanting shit shit shit shit under his breath. Lee’s brain takes the initiative to alternate, chanting fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck every time he takes a breath.

They’re going to get kicked out for sure. Diana is going to kill them and it’s going to be justified, because Lee is going to have to live with the noble look he knows Cass will have on when she realises they’re not there to watch. The shakey, practiced smile she’ll slap over the disappointment in her dark eyes.

Shit shit shit shit indeed.

“Lee! Michael! Over here!” whispers a voice. Lee whirls around to face it — boy does he ever feel like a puppet on a stick right now — and, for the second time in as many minutes, feels his head pound at the disorienting frenzy of emotions that bubble up when he sees his baby brother’s face. Will stands half inside a doorway Lee hadn’t noticed on the way in, tucked in the shadow of a corner.

He is fast, holy shit.

“What the hell are you doing,” hisses Michael.

“Getting us inside! Hurry up!”

Lee doesn’t need further prompting, clock ticking in his brain. Gods, how long do they have left? Thirty seconds? Less?

“Most big theatres have sideline entrances,” Will explains after Michael helps shove the giant bouquet through the tiny door. He guides them, upright to their hunching, down a tight corridor. “They’re for performers to pop up in the audience without being seen. Mama and I race each other to find ‘em when she did shows.”

Lee had forgotten, for a moment, how much of his life Will has spent in and out of theatres, bars, stages. Naomi Solace has been growing more and more famous since…half of his life, at least. Lee remembers hearing about her four years ago, when she’d done a smaller show in Queens. A friend of his had gone.

Michael reaches out and tugs the mostly-undone ponytail he’d wrestled Will’s hair into that morning. “Good job, kid.”

He grins over his shoulder. “Thanks.”

They stumble into the darkened audience in the nick of time. The second Lee steps out of the cramped little corridor, dragging the stupid flowers (he is, in fact, regretting his choices at this point in time; when he has a free moment he will add this to the list of reasons he will be kicking his past self’s ass if the Hephaestus cabin successfully recreates DeLorean time machine) along with him, the stage lights come on. An announcer’s voice calls out, “Entry 109, Competitive Open Solo: Cass Hasapi.”

“Fuck,” Michael mutters. A quaint family of four gasps. He sneers at them. “Fuck, you see Diana?”

“No, is she maybe —”

“I think that’s her hair —”

“That person is way too tall, what are you —”

“I swear to the gods, I am going to kill you both,” whispers a beautifully familiar voice, and then Lee is being dragged. “Sit the hell down and shut the hell up. Will, baby, c’mere.”

Will climbs happily over the two empty seats, settling onto Diana’s lap and curling under her chin. He sticks his tongue out when Lee and Michael follow in behind him, struggling with the bouquet, muttering about favouritism.

“I’ve literally known you for six times longer than you’ve known him,” Michael mutters, sticking his tongue out right back. A grandmother with a severe bob whirls back and hushes him.

“Yeah, I’ve had all that time to get tired of your bullshit. Shut up.”

Before Michael can retort — Lee is sure he has an eloquent and devastating response, Lee has been helping him practice — soft piano drifts out from the speakers. A light turns on, pointed at the stage.

All four of them snap their mouths shut.

In the centre of the stage, Cass stands, poised. Her back is turned to the audience, arms extended above her and tilted to the right, as if reaching for the setting sun. Her hair, braided loosely back, brushes the edge of her thickly draping purple costume. Her knees are bent and locked and one bare foot sticks out like she’s trying to balance herself, like she’s mid fall.

A gravelly, male voice sings lowly along to the piano. How do you know which time might be the last? She moves along the dip of his voice, dragging her limbs through the rigid air. What I would give just to see you again? She moves with a swooping twist of her heels, twisting at the waist. Under the heat of the stage lights, her face contorts, forehead deeply wrinkled, mouth parted, breathing quickly. I’d walk to the depths of a world down below and demand to get back what some circumstance stole. She holds herself with such tension that Lee finds his own shoulders hiking up to his ears. Her chest moves rapidly, hands shaking, knees buckling. His breath goes stale in his lungs.

When the chorus starts, hard and heavy and sudden, I turned back one last time just to prove you were there, Cass hits the floor. He gasps with the rest of the audience, clutching the plush armrest, but it’s intentional, part of the dance. ‘Cause the last ray of sun made Eurydice cold. Collapsed on the floor, limbs bent, dress askew, she crawls, begging, towards the audience. Did she know? Did she know? Did she know? Did she know?

Cass does not move gracefully. She moves like a beached, gasping siren dragging herself back to the depths, like someone climbing out of a pit. Every movement looks heavy and painful. She looks at the audience and Lee is surging forward before he can stop himself, breath hitching, brain screaming: help her! help her! help her!

If I knew how it’d feel back then, I wouldn’t take another step.

Her body twists again, hair escaping her loose braid and sticking to her neck, her forehead. She claws at her throat like she’s suffocating, eyes accusing everyone watching like they’re holding her under. Each movement of her arms swell and sway on the beat, bare feet slapping the ground with every hit of the kettle drum. If you can see me it’s all in your head, but it feels real to me now, it felt real to me then.

Everything ends.

The piano fades out, the drums hit their last beat. All that’s left is the wretched guitar, taught like strings snapping, taught like the tense pull of her suspended muscles.

But I opened the door and went down the stairs; I turned back one last time to prove you were there.

As the last word fades, she drops. Not slowly, not evenly, but like whatever was holding her up crumbled to dust. Like she was shot. Her purple dress pools out around her like dark Hyacinth. She lays completely, entirely still.

The lights cut. The air in the audience goes heavy.

They come back on and no one says a word. Lee realises, as it drips onto his hands, that he is crying. Diana is, too, tear tracks too fresh to dry on her face, and Will is leaned forward so far he sways precariously. Michael’s hands are pressed harshly to his eyes.

Trancelike, Lee stands. All eyes snap, abruptly, towards him, but he ignores them. He looks straight across the rows of chairs and locks eyes with his sister, upright now, heaving, standing hesitant. She looks at him, and then beside him at Michael, and then at Will in Diana’s lap. They scramble quickly up next to him, and without any of them saying anything, they begin to cheer.

Cass’s face lights up.

With permission, much of the audience claps. No one stands as they do and as they continue hooting and hollering the claps fade quickly, replaced with stares and murmurs, but Cass still stands there, beaming, looking away and looking back like she can’t believe they’re there. That someone is there, that someone watched her, her, from beginning to end. A hand tugs on his sleeve.

“Can I sonic?” Will asks, raising his voice to be heard.

“Level four,” Lee allows.

He needs no further permission, grinning. He lets out a piercing whistle that makes everyone around them shout in alarm and Lee’s ears ring. But Cass laughs, loud and bright, so it’s worth it, and when Will looks at him in question he nods. The second whistle is definitely beyond a level four, but Lee doesn’t care. Cass looks the happiest he’s seen in a long time.

———

None of them care too much about staying for the other performances. But Cass has two more dances with her studio classes, spread out as they are, so Lee remains doomed to two hours of an aching ass and performances that come nowhere near Cass’s masterpiece. Will seems intrigued, though, by some of the pieces, so he grits his teeth and bares it. Besides, the rolled eyes he shares with Diana and Michael every time someone does something exceedingly cliche or tries and fails at depth (someone, often, being one of Cass’s teammates, shocker) makes it somewhat worth it.

By the time the judges call the last entry, though, Lee is ready to book it out of there.

The lights come back on and pop music plays through the speakers as dancers, in track suits over their costumes, congregate on the stage. Lee stands and stretches, letting Will stand on his shoulders and jump off into Michael’s arms to get some of his energy out. (And, also, ‘cause tossing a small child between them is fun. Diana jogs into the aisle so they can throw farther, but they all decide against it when a security guard glances over.)

After what feels like eight million years, the judges finally lumber over to the stage. The building voices hush as they climb the steps, standing in front of the gathered studios with cabled mics and stacks of foreboding envelopes.

“Welcome, dancers and families,” starts one judge.

She blabs on for several minutes about what an honour it was to judge and how wonderful everyone was. Blah, blah, blah. Lee spaces out about the time Diana’s eyes glaze over, and he looks instead to the gathered stage, observing. There are five different studios that he can see, each with about forty to fifty dancers. Mostly young women. They sit tangled together, legs on legs, arms around shoulders, feet tucked under thighs. Cass, he notices, sits on her own, at the very back of the stage. She sits straight-backed and proud, though. Chin lifted, braid resting over her shoulder.

Impossible to miss.

Two of her group dances win Diamond (Diana explains to them that this is Very Good. She thinks). Most others do not get this honour. Lee notices especially the older couple to their left looking quite sour. The glee he feels is indescribable.

“The winner for our open solo, for all age groups, was actually unanimous. It’s been a while since that happened!”

A girl near the front of the stage, who Lee recognises as the one to make a cruel joke about Cass’ mother, preens. Her solo was boring as hell. He’s not sure what she’s so smug about.

“With a score of 97.6, congratulations to Entry 109, Cass Hasapi!”

The four of them scream like lunatics.

They don’t even wait for scattered applause. Each one of them clambers up on the pristine chairs, covering them with scuff marks, and yell at the top of their lungs, jumping and cheering like chimps in a cage. Cass goes red, but she can’t hide her smile as she stands and accepts her award, grinning over at them. Michael holds up his camera and snaps a photo of her, pink-cheeked and wild-haired, glowing.

———

“Cass!”

Will sees her before the rest of them, sprinting towards the changeroom doors at top speeds and leaping up into her arms. She catches him easily, spinning them both around, pressing a thousand kisses to his hair and face.

“Hello, my darling! Hello hello hello!” Every word is punctuations with a kiss, or rather a press of her wide smile to anywhere she can reach. In seconds his cheeks are stained with her lipstick. “Oh, it has been weeks, darling boy, I missed you!”

Will clings to her sweater, face buried in the crook of her neck. She holds him just as tightly.

(Will has seen Cass more than Lee, in the past few months. He knows she’s made a few sudden trips to camp. But he also knows that she was the first one to welcome him into camp, the day his mother dropped him off, and when he was claimed she was the first to bring him home. She loves to tote him around, too, to have him trail after her for cabin inspections, holding the clipboard, or paint his nails when she’s bored. He misses her something fierce in the winters. She holds on tightly when she comes back home.)

Squeezing him one last time, she turns to the rest of them. Despite her wide smile, her mascara runs.

“You came,” she says, voice wobbling.

Michael clears his throat. “No shit.”

His voice wobbles, too.

“Come here, you goober.”

He’s the next to cling to her, inserting himself under her arm. She presses a kiss to his temple and he pinches her ribs, complaining, getting louder when she digs a knuckle into his hair. Diana jogs up and separates them, as she always does, flicking Michael on the forehead and pressing a kiss to her sister’s cheek.

“I’m so proud of you,” she whispers, squeezing her hand.

Cass’s tears spill over again. “Thank you.”

Lee clears his throat. He feels, suddenly, like a doofus, holding a bouquet of flowers the size of him, but Cass looks at them and grins again, chuckling.

“You sell your kidney for that or what?”

Lee snorts. “No, we exchanged Will. This is a clone.”

“Did not!”

Lee blows a raspberry. “Did too. Clone.”

“I’m not a clone! I’m me!”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Ya-huh!”

“Alright,” Cass interrupts, rolling her eyes fondly. She kisses the tip of Will’s nose again and sets him down, turning towards Lee, hands outstretched dramatically. “Hand me my dues.”

Because she is, at the core of her, a true daughter of Apollo, even though the amount of poise and grace that bleeds from her at any given time contradicts almost directly with the guy who beams Pocketful of Sunshine directly into their brains at five in the morning every single day without fail, she kneels with a flourish. Because Lee is, at the core of him, also a child of Apollo, he goes unquestioningly along with the bit, pulling out one of the flowers to knight her before resting the entire bouquet in her arms. She has to hold it with both hands.

“You guys are ridiculous,” she says, grinning.

“They are ridiculous,” Diana stresses. “Dumbasses were damn near late getting this for you. They already had flowers, mind you. They’re just dumb.”

Will holds up his hand with his watch. “I kept us from being late!”

Diana squishes his cheek. “Thank you, sweetpea. You’re already smarter than your brothers combined.”

“Stick out your tongue again and I’ll grab it, you little snitch,” Lee warns.

Will, darting to hide behind Diana, does not heed his warning. Because he’s a little shit. bc

The walk out of the building in a gaggle of movement. As other dancers and their families walk by, glowering at Cass’ flowers and at Cass in general, Lee makes a point to catch their eyes. To smirk. To let them know, without saying a word — you were wrong. Of course you were wrong. Look at how she’s better than your bitter ass without even trying.

It warms him inside, truly.

“I’m thinking,” Diana says, walking back to the car, “that we stop at Dairy Queen on the way home. On Michael’s dollar. Will, look real excited so Michael can’t say no.”

“I am excited,” Will says, turning to face him, “so that’s real easy.”

Michael sighs. He taps his foot on the pavement, glaring. He sighs again. “You’re getting s plain cone and that’s that. You understand me?”

Will takes that as code for ‘begin negotiating’. Diana joins him, the two of them chasing Michael to the car, yelling about Blizzards and sundaes. Cass falls into step next to Lee, adjusting the flowers.

“So,” she says, shooting him a small smile.

“So,” he intones.

“Diana told me you snuck the boys out of camp.”

“…Yes.”

“Organised the whole trip, basically.”

“It wasn’t hard. I just told Michael to pack his shit and he listened, for once. So.”

“Lee.” She waits for him to open the trunk, letting him stuff the ridiculous flowers inside before facing him, grabbing his hands and squeezing. “Thank you.”

“I don’t —”

He swallows past the lump in his throat. How can he say it? How can he tell her about being fourteen and older than half the unclaimed kids in Hermes, still reeling over camp as a whole, and the fear that had dissipated from his chest when she stood in front of camp and said, firmly, he’s ours? About the hours she spent listening to him ramble about Pokémon, learning the game for him, mailing him cards she finds around? About the letters she sends him every week without fail, even though she’s swamped with her own shit, because she remembers the night he cried, months and years of being weird and lonely and unlike anyone else he knew? How can he explain the bubbling in his chest, the ache for her, because of her?

“Of course, Cass.”

She opens her arms and he falls into them, forehead on her shoulder, arms tight around her waist. She grips around his back, pressing a kiss to his hair. His throat is dry, choking back the thickness of his tears.

“I love you.”

“Love you too, Lee.”

#AND WERE DONE #AND ITS FIVE THIRTY IN THE MORNING FUCK #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #hoo #heroes of olympus #lee fletcher #will solace #michael yew #diana mckinney #cass hasapi #cabin seven #my writing #fic #longpost #song is orpheus by vincent lima btw #pjo hoo toa

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kiefbowl · 1 month

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I was reading an opinion piece on Kate Middleton's cancer diagnosis on CNN by Jamal Baig about the increasing rates of cancer in patients under 50. As far as 5 minutes of googling and JSTORing can lend me to believe, there's nothing illegitimate about Dr. Baig. However, I found this bit in his opinion interesting:

Now, I'm always dubious when reading anything that attributes a very broad generalized idea that changes in diets have caused an increased in cancer, because more often than not it's not pointing to an exploration of, say, increased pesticide use, but the author's personal bias against the quote unquote "unhealthy", especially those who are deemed "fat" by the medical industry.

That being said, I was curious what source he linked, half expecting it to lead to just another op-ed from some other doctor from who knows when, but I was pleasantly surprised! Written by a man named Michael Donaldson, it was an evidentiary review published in a scientific journal called "Nutrition and cancer: A review of the evidence for an anti-cancer diet."

Now I wasn't going to give the whole thing a read, but I stopped in each section, gave a quick skim to get a general vibe, moved on to the next section, etc. I was immediately suspicious that the very first line in the abstract was "It has been estimated that 30–40 percent of all cancers can be prevented by lifestyle and dietary measures alone" as that seems to be a bananas statistic to just posit, but it still had the air of scientific integrity, so I did my skim.

The first handful of sections had things that gave me some moments of pause, that this article was in fact another doctor simply cherry picking data to confirm his own biases, but nothing so egregious as to do a spit take. That comes in a few minutes. The first section that made really go hold the phone was when we got to his Flax Seed section.

Compare how he writes about Red Meat...:

(that's all he wrote, btw)

...with how he starts writing about Flax Seed:

Did I just enter a Flax Seed commercial? Does this guy work for BIG FLAX SEED? on and on he writes about Flax Seed, and I start getting a sense that perhaps this man has a Flax Seed Agenda. In any case, he eventually moves on and I quickly skim to get to the end (because it's boring among other things).

So, who exactly is Michael Donaldson?

Girl are you kidding me

The Hallelujah Acres Foundation is a FOR PROFIT company that sells a """biblical""" based diet program called the hallelujah diet and also sells supplements on said site.

Now, in case you forgot where I started with this, this was the link provided as a "source" to a legitimate doctor's claim in an op-ed about cancer that "at least part of the answer" of why cancer is increasing in under 50 patients are the "changes to nutrition and lifestyle that took hold in middle of the last century." Dr. Baig did not read this article, or if he did was not concerned that it was written by the employee of a company that profits from unscientific research it uses to sell supplements and diets. Which is worse, I don't know.

The point I'm making is that you absolutely need to be vigilant all the time. You need to understand that doctors can not only have biases, but agendas. Researchers can have biases and agendas. Scientists can have biases and agendas. And that magical thinking about real health issues that can affect your future can permeate the scientific community because weirdos write convincing enough evidence that support their already determined world view.

This kind of shit is the reason why women go into doctor offices complaining about pain in their abdomen and get told to go lose weight and come back in 6 months. This is why ideas like moralizing eating have huge effects on women's health and influence medical misogyny, and why it's a feminist issue.

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reobabesstuff · 1 year

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Bllk boys Romanticizing little things

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Characters: Isagi Yoichi, Bachira Meguru, Chigiri Hyoma, Reo Mikage, Nagi Seishiro, Nanase Nijiro, Hiori Yo, Sae Itoshi, Rin Itoshi, Kurona Ranze, Ness Alexis, and Michael Kaiser

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Yoichi Isagi, Hiori Yo, Nanase Nijiro

When you hold his index finger out of nowhere while walking next to each other. He would definitely skip a heartbeat at how softly you held him. He would glance at you before looking at your fingers wrapped around his index finger.

It is a tiny thing but it makes him flattered and wants you to do that more often.

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Michael Kaiser and Sae Itoshi

You were mad at him and were not stopping from babbling shit about him. He sighed heavily and pressed both of his palms against your cheeks, squishing them that made your lips puff out. He found it cute and also succeed to shut you up.

Since then he often did it, looking at your face and feeling his heartbeat increase. He doesn't care when and where you will be, he presses his palms against your cheeks.

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Nagi Seishiro and Ness Alexis

He needs a lot of affection and cares a lot. You are used to him grabbing your hand whenever he finds an opportunity and wrapping his arms around you. But when you were in the middle of some conversation and he did the same again you grabbed his cheeks and squeezed them to push him away. And he kinda likes it. So now he found a new way for some affection.

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Reo mikage, Bachira Meguru, Chigiri Hyoma

When you rub his earlobe with your fingers...? Do people do that?? He was first confused when you brought your hand closer to his ear and gently rubbed his earlobe. It was strange but he found a source of peace. And now he wants you to do that every moment.

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Rin Itoshi and Kurona Ranze

He loves when you tip-toe to match his height but fail. He would snatch your phone or whatever you were busy with and hold it in his hand. You gave him a confused look, "give it back", "take it" he said. You lifted your body on your toes and try to snatch it back. But the boy only has his eyes on you. Never miss an opportunity to do that.

Bonus: you kicked in his balls to snatch your belongings (⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠)

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thesherrinfordfacility · 10 months

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Source

Transcript of main article under the cut:

THE RASCALLY DEMON Crowley (David Tennant) and the neurotic angel Aziraphale (Michael Sheen) put aside their differences to pull off one doozy of a Hail Mary and prevent an impending Apocalypse in Good Omens' first season. The task cemented the pair's unconventional friendship. So what are divine beings who have fallen out of grace with both Heaven and Hell to do for an encore?

The answer lies with archangel Gabriel (Jon Hamm), who shows up unannounced on the doorstep of Aziraphale's London bookshop. Suddenly, Aziraphale and Crowley are caught up in a caper of biblical proportions- but also a more intimate tale.

"It's a mystery" showrunner Neil Gaiman tells SFX. "It kicks off a story that doesn't have giant consequences for the universe, even if it does have consequences for Aziraphale and Crowley. We have a lot of the marvellous Jon Hamm, who is the angel Gabriel and turns up at the beginning stark naked, carrying a cardboard box with no memory of who he is. In the same way, it is about Aziraphale and Crowley having to get involved with humanity in a way that they haven't before.

"They get dragged in slightly against their will to try to sort out the love life of Aziraphale's tenant," he continues. "Her name is Maggie (Maggie Service) and she runs the

record shop next to the bookshop. You'll see the coffee shop over the road, which is Nina's (Nina Sosanya). The relationship between Maggie and Nina is one that Crowley and Aziraphale try to fix, and mess up, because they are not good at human relationships, even if they can do miracles."

Truth be told, Gaiman never originally intended this arc to serve as Good Omens' second instalment. The TV series was based on Gaiman and Terry Pratchett's 1990 novel. The two collaborators had partially hashed out the details for a sequel to the fantasy comedy, late one night in a hotel room. This, however, is not it. Gaiman instead plotted a new narrative that could provide the connective tissue between the first season and a theoretical season three, if it happens.

"Because the hypothetical season three exists, there is a story that is there, and I didn't feel that we could drive straight from season one into that," Gaiman explains. "I knew what the stakes were. I knew what the parameters were. I also know that I had David and Michael. I had the angels from plot number one. I had demons from plot number one. And with anybody that I wanted to bring back, but didn't have room for right now, I did not have to bring them back as themselves.

"I had absolutely nothing for Madame Tracy to do in this plot, but I would be damned if Miranda Richardson wasn't going to be in this. She is one of my favourite people in the world. She is hilarious and is so good. And I knew I was going to have a new demon replacing Crowley as Hell's representative in London/the UK. Miranda's demon Shax is the best demon you could want."

It's late February 2012 and SFX is in Edinburgh for a set visit. A soundstage in Pyramids Studies has been transformed into a street in Soho. The visible local stores include the aforementioned book, coffee and record shops, as well as a magic establishment. In the middle of them all stand Aziraphale and Crowley, the latter in close proximity to his classic Bentley. It's close to the end of the six-episode season, so exactly what the duo is discussing constitutes a spoiler. We can say, however, that Aziraphale has picked up the pace. Time is of the essence as Shax marshals her forces to descend on Aziraphale's store and retrieve Gabriel.

"This is really Shax's first time out on Earth," Gaiman explains. "She is working very diligently and very hard in Hell for a long time. Now she is on Earth, trying to figure it all out. She's just discovering what Crowley has known for 6,000 years, which is that if you're a demon and come up with a brilliant plan to screw up the lives of humanity, people will get there first and do worse than anything you could have imagined! She's coming to terms with that.

"She is having to deal with the first crisis on her watch, as well, which is the disappearance of the archangel Gabriel from Heaven. It would be fair to say that by the end of the story, she is leading as much as she can get from Hell's requisition department - a legion of Hell - in an attack on a Soho bookshop."

When audiences catch up with Aziraphale again, he's enjoying his time among humans. He owns most of the block in a Soho neighbourhood, and he's meddling in Nina's love life. Meanwhile, Crowley has been living in his car, with his plants sitting on the back seat. He's grumpy about his current status quo, but frequently hangs out at Aziraphale's. The duo began as antagonists, but their history and blooming relationship will be fleshed out in flashbacks.

"One of the enormously fun things I came up with in the idea of minisodes," Gaiman explains. They are 25-minute-long episodes within the episode. We have three of them over our six episodes. Each of them is like one of those chunks of episode three (in season one). Whereas the longest one of those was four or five minutes, if that, these are full stories.

"You get to have the story of (put-upon Biblical figure) Job and you learn Aziraphale and Crowley's part in the story. Then writer Cat Clarke takes us to Edinburgh in the 1820s for a tale of body-snatching and attempted murder that the boys get involved in," he adds.

"Finally, Jeremy Dyson and Andy Nyman reunite the League of Gentlemen in a Nazi-period story that takes place very shortly after the episode in the church. That one was the only one I said had to be there, because I fell in love with our Nazi spies in the church I kept thinking, "What would happen if they essentially came back as zombies with a mission from Hell to try and investigate whether or not Crowley and Aziraphale were actually fraternising?"

Gaiman admits that one of the greatest challenges has been filming Good Omens simultaneously with his upcoming show Anansi Bays. The two shoot within throwing distance of each other, but are both time-consuming endeavours.

"If I could go back in time, I would go back to 16 September 2020, when Douglas Mackinnon (co-producer) and I got the phone call from the Amazon bigwigs to say, "We have

good news for you and interesting news for you," Gaiman recalls. "'The good news is we are greenlighting both Good Omens and Anansi Boys. The interesting news is you are going to have to do them both at the same time.'

"I would go back to then and I would throw myself on the call and say, 'Neil, don't! This is unwise.' That we are doing them both together is great. The amount of sleep I am not getting is monumental and monstrous.

"It's a little bit like childbirth, in that I managed to forget all the things that drove me nuts about the first one. Having said that, I managed to fix all the things that really drove me nuts making season one which is great. We just have a whole new set of problems making season two."

#good omens #good omens season 2 #crowley #aziraphale #good omens season two #not a shitpost but its good omens babyyyy #SIGH does this mean i need to edit my 40s meta AGAIN? im tiRED OF THIS GRANDPA #edit: missing page

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tiredwitchplant · 7 months

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Everything You Need to Know About Crystals: Carnelian (Red)

Carnelian (The Sunset Stone)

Color: Red, orange, pink, brown

Rarity: Common, easy to obtain

Hardiness: 7

Type: Agate or Chalcedony

Chakra Association: Solar-Plexus, Sacral, Root Chakra

Angels: Michael

Deities: Isis

Astrological Signs: Leo, Taurus, Aries

Element: Fire

Planet: Sun

Origin: Britain, India, Czech Republic, Slovakia, Peru, Iceland, Romania

Powers: Success, Confidence, Motivation, Courage, Sexual Energy, Vitality, Action

Crystals It Works Well With: Aquamarine, Beryl, Super Seven

How It is Created: It is part of the chalcedony family. It is made up of silicon dioxide colored by different levels of iron impurities, with specks, banding, or stripes in many shades of brown or orange-red. The stone itself has a beautiful warm orange color that is best appreciated when it is polished.

History: Since ancient times, carnelian has been polished and worn as jewelry. The Egyptians used it to contrast with onyx and lapis lazuli in the making of collars and necklaces. The Romans were fond of it set in gold, using small beads in earrings or larger polished stones in finger rings for men and women. In the Middle Ages, carnelian was also popular as a healing stone. It was said to dissolve anger or rage, protect the wearer from negative influences, and promote courage.

What It Can Do:

Can be used in spell for success, confidence, and motivation

Can bring a burst of inspiration and energy

Is good for sex magic and sometimes menstrual support

Can cleanse and restore other crystals

Can help those in abusive situations by providing inner strength and movement to the right path

Help with mental preparation with childbirth

Calms angry emotions and puts a stop to mental lethargy

Can restore vitality and remove the fear of death

Was used to protect the dead to their journey to the afterlife

Dispels apathy and motivates success

Improves analytics abilities and clarifies perception

Removes extraneous thoughts in mediation and tunes daydreamers into reality

Can stimulate metabolism and improve your life force

Can influence reproductive organs and increase fertility

How to Get the Best Out Of: Use as a pendant or belt buckle, or place in contact with the skin as appropriate.

How to Cleanse and Charge: You can cleanse and charge carnelian with the sun.

Crystal Grid:

Creativity Grid

Shape: Flower of Life or Vesica Piscis

Mantra: “Creativity flows through me.”

Center Stone: Carnelian sphere or tumbled stone

Secondary Stones: Rainbow moonstone, larimar, kunzite, orange calcite

Moon Phase: Waxing phase or full moon

Day: Wednesday

Sources

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beaftlynatures · 8 months

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Here's some of the @jstor articles I've found really interesting in this line of study:

From my gender/sex variance studies

Erecting Sex: Hermaphrodites and the Medieval Science of Surgery

Mary or Michael? Saint-Switching, Gender, and Sanctity in a Medieval Miracle of Childbirth

The Image of the Androgyne: Some Uses of a Symbol in Earliest Christianity

Transvestites in the Middle Ages

Two Cases Of Female Cross-Undressing In Medieval Art And Literature

Concerning Sex Changes: The Cultural Significance of a Renaissance Medical Polemic

Relating to disability

Sitting on the Sidelines: Disability in Malory

A Dwarf in King Arthur's Court: Perceiving Disability in Arthurian Romance

Disability and Dreams in the Medieval Icelandic Sagas

The Disabled and the Monstrous: Examples from Medieval Spain

Relating to sexuality

Sexual Fluidity “Before Sex"

The Disclosure of Sodomy in Cleanness

"Be more strange and bold": Kissing Lepers and Female Same-Sex Desire in "The Book of Margery Kempe

I will continue to update this list of sources as I find pertinent articles!

Your mileage may vary on these, not all of these have the most tactful or respectful dialogues but I found them interesting.

#unsorted #from HQ #medievalism #medieval studies

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electronickingdomfox · 2 months

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Star Trek TOS crew biographies

There are plenty of detailed biographies of the TOS crew, both online and in reference books. But I wanted to check what actually appears in the Original Series and the six TOS movies about this subject (that is, not counting secondary sources or later series). And the result is... very little, actually. I was surprised by the amount of data that I took for granted, just to find out it came from a novel or wasn't 100% set in stone. This is what I could find about each major character, just judging from the TOS series and movies. Feel free to add to this or correct mistakes.

James Tiberius Kirk:

Although in the series he's referred just as James T. Kirk, his middle name "Tiberius" appears in Star Trek VI. "Tiberius" was also his middle name in TAS episode Bem, and the novel The Galactic Whirlpool (both by Gerrold), as well as in Roddenberry's TMP novelization. So yeah, no doubts about his name.

He was born in Iowa (Star Trek IV) and had one brother, George Samuel Kirk, and three nephews (What are little girls made of?). Sam married a woman named Aurelan (Operation: Annihilate).

Kirk was 34 in The Deadly Years. Assuming each season is a year of the five year mission, he could be 33 at the start of the series. And this is the only reference for his age I could find. As for actual dates, I didn't find anything, except his statement in Star Trek IV that he comes from the late 23rd century. (It wouldn't be until Voyager episode Q2, that a date was given for the end of the five-year mission: 2270. This follows Michael Okuda's Star Trek Chronology, and all other dates for TOS are inferred from this).

At age 13 he witnessed the massacre of Tarsus IV (Kodos was governor twenty years ago, in The Conscience of the King).

At age 18 he had just entered the Academy and was tormented by Finnegan. At this time he also met Ruth (fifteen years before Shore Leave).

He served in the USS Republic as an ensign, at some unspecified time after his Academy years, where he reported Ben Finney for negligency (Court Martial).

At age 21 he visited the planet Neural and befriended Tyree (thirteen years before A private little war).

He teached at the Academy as a lieutenant. One of his students was his friend Gary Mitchell (Where No Man has Gone Before).

He was a lieutenant in the USS Farragut at age 23 (eleven years before Obsession), where he first encountered the cloud creature that massacred his crewmates.

Kirk had a relationship with Areel Shaw when he was 29 (four years before Court Martial).

He became captain of the USS Enterprise after Pike. If we suppose TOS first season happens during the first year of the five-year mission, Kirk was around 37 at the end of this mission.

There's a big gap of fifteen years between Space Seed and the second movie. And apart from the five-year mission, most of those years are unaccounted for. Kirk's been an admiral for two years and a half at the start of TMP. But we don't know if he became an admiral right after the Enterprise's mission, or much later. That is, we don't know at what point of that gap take place the events of TMP. Around this time, both Spock and McCoy had retired from Starfleet, though they both returned when Kirk took the Enterprise again for the V'Ger incident.

By The Wrath of Kahn, Kirk should be 48 years old (fifteen years since he left Kahn stranded in Space Seed). If David is around 30, Kirk's relationship with Carol could have been at the Academy, but it's also possible that David is younger.

The third and fourth films happen shortly after The Wrath of Kahn, but no idea how much time elapsed since then and the fifth and sixth films (though see the info for McCoy).

Spock

Known simply as "Spock". His full name is considered unpronounceable for humans, though the novel Ishmael gives it as "S'chn T'gai Spock".

His parents are Sarek and Amanda (Journey to Babel). Amanda's last name was never given, though TAS episode Yesteryear, some novels, and the 2009 reboot film establishes it as "Grayson". Spock also has a half-brother: Sybok (Star Trek V).

I couldn't find anything about Spock's actual age during the series/movies.

He was betrothed to T'Pring at age seven (Amok Time).

He probably joined Starfleet eighteen years before Journey to Babel, since that's the time he spent not speaking with Sarek. If he joined Starfleet at 18 years old, he'd be 36 by season two (but that's just a supposition).

He was part of Pike's crew thirteen years before The Menagerie, during the events in Talos IV. He'd be 22 by then. Spock served under Pike for eleven years (also from The Menagerie). That means Kirk had been captain of the Enterprise for at least two years before season one.

After that, Spock's career runs more or less in parallel with Kirk's, so I won't go over it again.

Leonard H. McCoy

His middle initial first appears in Star Trek III, as well as the name of his father: David. The novel Provenance of Shadows explains the middle initial as "Horatio", but other novels call him "Leonard Edward McCoy" (???).

Much of his biographical background comes from the "Writer's Guide" by Roddenberry and Fontana, but never made it to the series. That includes the fact he's 45 (by season one?) and born in Georgia. As well as the fact that he's divorced and joined Starfleet as a result of this, and that he has a 20 year old daughter (Joanna). Presumably, the story of his divorce and Joanna would have appeared in The Way to Eden, but the story was severely altered. His daughter is mentioned, but without name, in TAS episode The Survivor, and in several novels. The Gold Key comics call her "Barbara" instead. His ex-wife is given different names in the novels and comics: Honey, Jocelyn, Joan, Gillian...

No idea when he joined Starfleet (that depends on how long was his marriage), or when he met Kirk.

Ten years before The Man Trap, he had a romance with Nancy Crater. Though in the episode he sometimes says he knew her twelve years ago, and other times ten years ago. Either it's a mistake, or the relationship simply lasted two years (though McCoy's doubts about Nancy remembering him, imply the relationship wasn't very long).

At some point, he visited Capella IV for a few months (Friday's Child).

He served in the Enterprise for 27 years (Star Trek VI), but only under Kirk, it seems. If he was 45 when he started, he'd be 72 in the last film, and Kirk would be 60 years old.

Note on McCoy's age in later series

The "Writer's Guide" statement that McCoy was 45 at the time of TOS, was contradicted by later series. In TNG episode Encounter at Farpoint, he's said to be 137 years old. While in the episode The Neutral Zone (also from TNG season one) the year is 2364. As both episodes probably happen in the same year, McCoy would have been born in 2227. Since, according to Voyager, the five-year mission lasted from 2266 to 2270, McCoy would have been 39 at the start of the mission. I'm following the Writer's Guide figure, however, because I consider this document more relevant for TOS itself. After all, many things that are facts in later series, aren't the same in TOS, and viceversa. Also, considering that the age of the characters seems to be close to the age of the actors, I find more likely that McCoy was 45, and not 39, at the start of TOS. To give you an idea, Shatner was 36 in season two (Kirk was 34), Nimoy was also 36 (just as Spock) and Kelley was 47. The twelve year gap between Kirk and McCoy, would be almost the same as the eleven year gap between Shatner and Kelley.

Montgomery Scott

Very little about him, but at least we got his full name in the series. He's supposed to be Scottish, and has lived in Aberdeen (Wolf in the Fold).

Apart from being Chief Engineer in the Enterprise, he was engineer advisor in a freighter, running from Deneva to the asteroid belt (Operation: Annihilate).

Uhura

We never knew her first name in TOS! This is one of the things that surprised me the most. However, "Nyota" is her first name in the reboot films, the new series, and well before that, the novel The Entropy Effect.

She was probably born in east Africa, since her native language seems to be Swahili (the language she reverted to when her memory was wiped in The Changeling). Thanks to user @sapsuckers-and-stardust for pointing this out.

Very, very little about her bio background. Most of it has to be collected from novels or comics, and those never intended to be coherent with each other.

Hikaru Sulu

Though his first name was unknown for a long time, it was revealed to be "Hikaru" in Star Trek VI. But before this, he was also called Hikaru in The Entropy Effect.

Sulu was born in San Francisco (Star Trek IV).

Again, almost nothing of his bio in the series/movies. Though the DC comics explored his character significantly. And in Star Trek: Generations, he had a daughter, Demora.

By Star Trek VI, he was finally a captain of his own ship, the Excelsior.

Pavel Andreievich Chekov

His full name appears first in The Way to Eden, where we also learn he had a romance with Irina Galliulin at the Academy.

Chekov has no siblings (Day of the Dove).

He's 22 by season two (Who mourns for Adonais?).

After serving in the Enterprise, he was first officer in the USS Reliant during The Wrath of Kahn, though he returned with Kirk after the Reliant's destruction.

Christine Chapel

She abandoned her career in bio-research to sign aboard the Enterprise as a nurse, and search after her fiancé Roger Korby (What are little girls made of?) Strangely enough, a few episodes before, she had confessed her love for Spock. She chose to stay in the ship after finding out Korby was dead.

By the time of TMP, she was a doctor in the Enterprise, though she doesn't appear as part of the crew in the later movies.

Janice Rand

She served as a yeoman in the Enterprise during the early five-year mission, but disappears from the series afterwards.

In TMP, she's the transporter chief. And in Star Trek IV, Janice is seen at Starfleet Command, along with Chapel.

By Star Trek VI, she was the communications officer of the Excelsior, under Sulu.

#star trek tos #reference #biographies #star trek tos crew #james kirk #spock #leonard mccoy #uhura #montgomery scott #hikaru sulu #pavel chekov #christine chapel #janice rand

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monstersandgirls-webtoons · 4 months

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I like your comic but i am sometimes really confused about angel/demon hirarchy as i have zero clue about christan lore. I found some conflicting sources too about archangels and seraphims being the same and sometimes not? Would you be so kind to explain more about angel/demon hirarchy in simple words or point me to where i can learn more about it?

Also are the colours assigned tonthe demon princes your own interpretation or rooted in christianity too?

With a lot of things in M&G, its a mix of biblical lore and my own interpretation (because there are so many differences in opinion and contradictions)

For Angels, there are 3 tiers, split off into 9 sub-tiers.

Tier One is the highest of order, these are angels that are treated as the embodiment of perfection and goodwill itself, those are the Seraphim, Thrones and Cherubs. You can imagine why Sera dating Lili turned her into a social pariah. They're extremely powerful, few are close to matching the strength of the Princes.

Tier Two is the middle order, the Dominions, Virtues and Powers. They're highly respected, but no where near experience the same level of admiration as the Tier One Angels. The Virtues are actually in an interesting place, where they're both incredibly involved and very detached from the rest of the angels in heaven.

Tier 3 is the lowest order, the Archangels, Principalities and the Angels. They're the most involved in human activities and are typically the easiest ones to corrupt due to this.

These rankings are less about how you're born, and more about where you're placed. for example, my Michael is a seraphim, but he's ranked in the third tier, as he became an Archangel to scour the earth and protect the world from high powered demons. It's entirely possible to move up or down a rank, though typically this is for warrior rankings (ie Powers, Archangels, and Principalities). A Seraphim could become an Archangel, but an Archangel could never become a Seraphim.

For Demons, the Hierarchy is a lot simpler and to the point. from highest to lowest it goes:

The 7 Deadly Sins/Princes

Fallen Angels

Baphomet

Goetias

Hellhounds

Regular Demons

Sinners (humans who were cased down to hell)

Their social hierarchy is more of what you expect, higher ranked demons are given more passes and privileges, lower ranked demons experience segregation, and the lowest of the low (ie sinners) are practically treated as demon chew toys.

#ask #lore

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therighthandofvengeance · 6 months

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Sinclair: Londo hasn’t bothered me at all today, do you know why?

Garibaldi: yeah, I told him that if he bothers us without a clearly legitimate reason I would cover every square millimeter of his quarters in glitter.

Sinclair: do you have that much glitter on-hand?

Garibaldi: I had to talk Ivanova out of plotting a very in-depth revenge, so yes. yes, I do.

#who are queue? what do queue want?#incorrect babylon 5 quote #jeffrey sinclair #michael garibaldi #source: @therighthandofvengeance #I maybe kinda sorta did this to my middle school Spanish teacher #i have no regrets #it’s still one of the funniest things I’ve ever done

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mrghostrat · 4 months

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"He needed an internet connection so he could download an app to draw with, but the whole point of setting the thing up in London was because he knew Crowley understood all of this a whole lot better than he did."

Okayyyyy I just got violent flashbacks to the s2 finale this is evil 😭😭

But in all seriousness, I LOVED the new bnf au chapter, I mean the kiss??? I audibly gasped, it was soooo good

I was wondering if the witch and the witchfinder are a canon couple in the nice and accurate prophecies? Or are they just a very popular fanon ship? Or is it like good omens, where people saw the romantic subtext in the book and where it was made explicitly canon in the show?

I just think all options would be really interesting, given that Crowley and Aziraphale are both middle-aged queer people and the book came out thirty years ago. So they either would have had some representation back then, or they recognised themselves in the story and even though it wasn't canon, maybe those ideas would later explicitly be confirmed by Agnes Nutter nonetheless? Since all these options have really interesting implications for the way they both interacted with the source material, I'm really curious what your thoughts on the matter are.

Thank you so much for all the beautiful things you create for the fandom, both your fics and your art give me life and I'm so grateful for them ❤

omg you have no idea how excited i am about this question 😭 as i've written BNF, i've been quietly fleshing out more about their fictional fandom, and accidentally gotten reeeeally invested and am dying to talk about it 😭😭

i'm actually tempted to make some fanart of the witch & the witchfinder, using michael and david as facecasts to go full meta thphptftf. in b4 i write it as a fuckin book series for real

buttttt i'll put all my N&A thoughts under a cut so i dont ramble too long on your dashes 💛

The Nice and Accurate Prophecy: Agnes Nutter's book series (turned play, turned film, turned tv series); the fandom in my fic Big Name Feelings

the idea of using Agnes Nutter's "Nice and Accurate" book for the in-fic fandom was taken from @tawnyontumblr's fic New Messages (i just thought that would be a fun fanon consistency to follow), but all the details about the story and characters are me.

N&A takes inspiration from Good Omens (as a story, and as a fandom) but isn't intended to be a direct copy of it. the original paperback series is a few books long, and each adaptation of the books are considered good, accurate, canonical content. the tv show (a HBO series) is the most recent, highest quality, and most popular. The Witcher style, high fantasy quality.

agnes is loudly supportive of the lgbt community just like neil/david/michael are. but i imagine that for the series to be so "marketable" over the last 30 years, there isn't an explicit queer relationship between the witch & finder. there are canon queer side characters but the witch & finder are a little more nuanced.

the witch and the witchfinder aid each other through time, working together to defeat the evils in the story (like Aziraphale and Crowley from GO). there's tension between them, but boundless love, and plenty of flirtation, despite the running "we shouldn't, we're meant to be enemies" theme. they would canonically get together at some point in the story, probably towards the end after they've spent some time dancing around each other.

the thing that makes this vague is: the witch reincarnates through the story, almost doctor who style. they're a trans icon, much like how the GO fandom looks at Crowley and all his gender ambiguity.

when they finally tryst with the witchfinder, they're female. it's by pure happenstance that they're female presenting at that stage of the story, but still widely critiqued over the years. the thing that canonises the mlm relationship is that the witch is said to carry their consciousness through each reincarnation— they're not a new person like The Doctor is when he regenerates.

the start of the book series spends more time on "Crowley and Aziraphale's favourite male reincarnation", while the movie and tv show only briefly montages through some of the witch's faces. the mlm side of the fandom most definitely lost their minds over the brief few minutes of screentime that they got of the male witch, and has absolutely gifsetted it to death.

i've done it like this because so much of (every) fandom has always been seeking out representation and filling gaps where the original content lacks. there's something to be said about the solidarity of queer fans creating more queer content for themselves. except, in the case of N&A, they're getting to work from a source material that is genuinely queer supportive, unlike fandoms like SPN and BBC Sherlock that are fighting against the tide of queerbaiting and buried gays.

it also gives aziraphale and crowley a chance to band together in the next chapter when they talk to a dickhead at the party:

i haven't exactly decided what happens with the witchfinder, like if the story takes place over hundreds of years and he keeps reincarnating as the same lookin dude (like how jack whitehall plays both Thou Shall Not Commit Adultery and Newton Pulsifer) or if it's set over one lifetime and the witch just gets killed and regenerates a lot. i do like the idea of there being some "through the ages" shenanigans, and a canonical "modern day" setting like GO has.

but i gotta be careful bc i genuinely can't stop thinking about this fake story that's barely mentioned in my fan fic or i'll end up writing the damn thing myself

#ask a rat #bnf au #good omens au #ratwips

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charlottecutepie · 2 months

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☥ Bunny meat (William Afton x fem!reader x Michael Afton)

Summary: He was a likeable middle-aged man who had wonderful children, his dream job and a beautiful wife. He never blamed himself for his own actions, or to be more exact, he never thought about their consequences.

tags: darkfic, unhealthy relationship, angst, smut with plot, p in v, dubcon, oral sex, rough and gentle sex, daddy kink, blood play, knife play, fear play, hurt/comfort, violence, gore/murders, child abuse, follows fnaf lore, moral and physical abuse, virginity kink, anxiety disorder, age gap, daddy issues, unreliable narrator, hallucinations, hidden pairing, William is sick, psychopathy, unhealthy narcissism

Chapter 5. Desire

Surprisingly, Wiliam behaved restrained, but inside him everything was on fire, he wanted to take you here and now, harshly and rudely, do things with you what he had long dreamed of all this time, but he knew perfectly well that if he snapped now, you'd be even more scared, cut with him all connections and will avoid him, and maybe even do something to yourself, because you're nothing but a little frightened lamb. A little creature who grew up alone, not needed by anyone, who didn't receive the proper amount of love and attention from her father. And that's why Afton thought he was the perfect source of all these feelings for you.

Perhaps, to some extent, he felt sorry you. However, his mind ignored such thoughts.

“William,” you spoke to him. “Is there no one at home?”

“Yes, Clara with kids left, I don't know where. She said she wouldn't be back until the morning.”

…

The Afton house is still same as it was before. Only coffee machine bought by the father of the family has changed. Although he earned a lot of money, little of it went to home improvement, Afton always invested only in the pizzeria, trying to make it as visible and attractive as possible.

It was also impossible to ignore the couch that was in the living room of the house. For you as a child, it was the most favourite object in Afton's house, you sat on it with Michael in the evenings and watched cartoons. When you had sleepovers with other kids, you hid under the covers because of Michael's scary stories. You often fell asleep on it late at night, without waiting for your mom, although she promised that she'd pick you up from the guests, but sometimes she never showed up because of scandals with her husband.

This couch evoked hundreds of emotions and nice memories.

But now, one more thing will be added to all these early memories: the way you lie on this couch under man who you saw as father, no matter how strange it sounds.

“You're so… beautiful,” he hovered over your body, his eyes running over it. “such delicate skin, like an angel's.” he took your hand, interlacing your fingers, kissing them. All thoughts in your head gathered into one big ball, you tried to analyze the situation somehow, but useless, because of his actions, you felt lost. William breathed out your name and greedily pressed his lips to your neck, showering it with light kisses.

You closed your eyes and turned your head to the side to give him more space, trying to relax, it seems you were succeeding. But unexpectedly for you, you felt him bite your neck.

“Oh!” bursted out of you, your free hand burrowed into his hair, trying to pull him away. “William, it hurts…” he looked up at you.

“I’m so sorry, bunny,” he smiled warmly at you. “I’ll be gentle.” he moved closer, gently kissing you on the corner of your lips. You leaned forward, hoping that this innocent kiss would turn into something more, however, Afton had other plans, he grinned and straightened up. “So impatient.”

He unbuttoned first three buttons of his purple shirt, which was enough for you to see the strange scars covering his body. You couldn't help, interest took over and your hands tentatively touched the bare area of his body.

“Where are they from?” you asked softly, causing him to chuckle again.

“It doesn't matter now, sweetheart.” he loosened the belt of his pants, after which he kissed your neck again, this time he kept his promise: you felt his tongue licking little wound he made. William took you by the hips, moving your body closer to him. “Y/n, you want this, don't you?”

“I… uh, I don't know.”

There is silence in response. William could tease you and your body for hours, nibbling and kissing it, making you sigh languidly, but this night he wanted to satisfy you first. He wanted to make you dependent on him, so that you couldn't live a day without his touch, so that you took the initiative yourself, so that you were head over heels in love. Corrupt you. However, he didn't know you were already so dependent on him, you want him to love you like in fairy tales about princesses, you want him to give you all the love that you were deprived of as a child. You just wanted someone to save you from loneliness.

You felt something hard pressing against the inside of your thigh, but you didn't want to look at what it was because of your wild embarrassment. Afton took something out of his pants pockets.

“Here, I see you need it,” you saw him holding out his hand to you with some kind of strange round pill. Confused, you looked at him, waiting for some explanation. William only laughed and ran his finger over your lips, opening them. “Yeah, and here it is, good girl.” he said, pushing the pill deeper until, due to the urge to vomit, you grabbed his wrist. “I'm sorry, baby, I just don't have anything to wash down the pill with.”

“What is it?” you winced at the unpleasant taste.

“Tranquilizers so you don't get nervous. Actually, they're mine, but I can tell by the look on your face they'll be useful for you too.” his hands carefully, as if afraid to scare you even more, undid the clasp of the dress, lowering it from your shoulders down. Unable to contain your shyness, you tried to hold the fabric on your body until William looked at you, as if mentally saying “don't.” Then your grip loosened, there was nothing you could do but obey. “that's it, good girl.”

When he wanted to take off the dress completely, you still grabbed on it, not letting it slide off your hips.

“Princess, if you keep doing this, then we won't succeed.” William looked into your eyes, putting your hands behind your head. “I won't hurt you.”

You nodded, trying to lose yourself in your feelings again. It seemed to be easier with the help of a sedative. You didn't even notice how you were only in your underwear in front of him.

“Damn, you're incredible.” he threw the dress somewhere on the floor, kissing you on the cheek while his hands caressed your hips and waist. You bit your lip to stifle a groan. Fuck, no one has ever touched you like that, especially in places like this, and when William ran his hand along the inside of your thigh, inadvertently touching your crotch, you arched your back. “it felt good, didn't it?”

William repeated the movement, but now paying more attention to your clothed pussy. The excitement took over, forcing you to move your hips towards his movements. A shudder of desire went through your whole body, Afton saw it perfectly, he kissed your collarbone, going lower to your breasts.

“Fuck, you have no idea how long I've been dreaming about this.” those words echoed in your head, but you didn't pay attention to it. “Honey, you're just so beautiful.” William ran his hands over your breasts, pinching your nipples hard with excitement.

“William…” you got the courage. He looked at you questioningly, damn, you hoped you said it so quietly that it would go unnoticed. “kiss me, please.”

He laughed. In a moment, his lips are on yours, like a predator. At that moment, you forgot absolutely everything, giving yourself completely to him. You moaned into his mouth, feeling his long fingers touching your pussy through your soaked panties. With one imperious movement, he pulls off the last piece of clothing, leaving you completely naked in front of him.

“And now? Not so scary anymore?”

“I don't know what i feel…” you were in turmoil, all fears and thoughts disappeared, a wild desire came to replace, no, not of intimacy, not of sex. But his affectionate words and compliments, the way he touches you, his gentle kisses and hugs, the way he treats you.

His fingers gently touch your labia, slowly and smoothly they move in circular movements along clit, getting another moan from you. With his other hand, he holds your legs, preventing you from moving away and closing them.

“And now, honey?”

“It's weird, but…” you avoided his gaze. ”feels good…” you answered unsure. Smiling contentedly, he removed his fingers. You noticed that as soon as his hands left your body, his movements in relation to himself instantly changed: he roughly, jerkily took off his belt and unbuttoned the fly of his pants, pulling them down. It’s like he was controlling himself when touching you.

“Lick them.” Afton said in a commanding tone, running his fingers over your lips. It was terribly embarrassing for you, but you did as he said anyway. You watched his actions with a note of sweet and naive excitement, the way his fingers penetrated deeper and deeper, pressing on your tongue, again caused unpleasant sensations to vomit. “Sorry, but there's no other way, I don't have any lube.”

When he pulled his fingers out of your mouth, quite considering how wet they were, you felt uncomfortable, but probably if you tell him about it, he's unlikely to listen and stop. The only thing left to do was to lie under him like a doll and enjoy.

“You're an obedient girl, aren't you?” his fingers went back to your glistening pussy, caressing your needy clit. Your breathing stopped instantly.

“Yes…” you whimpered when you felt his fingers, wet with your own saliva and grease, smoothly, insanely slowly entering you. William is building up the pace, not too fast, but enough to make soft sweet moans come out of your mouth. “Daddy…” you drawled languidly, feeling your soft walls tighten around his long fingers.

“Yes, princess?” Afton kisses your neck while his free hand wraps around his cock that was already out of his trousers, hard and dripping with precum. “Tell daddy what you want.”

“Please, want more…” you whispered in his ear, this time trying to be as seductive and sexy as possible. William found it funny.

“You'll get more, baby,” his breath tickled your skin. “Daddy will make you feel good.” Afton pulled out his fingers, causing you to moan in disappointment, oh, how he enjoyed it, it felt like he was ready to cum just from your angelic voice.

William tilted his head, being between your legs. The whole picture made you dizzy, you glance at him in surprise, trying to predict what will happen next. William grins, seeing how your curiosity plays tricks on you when he gives your clit a tender kiss.

“Ohhh, daddy,” this word is so vulgar, it sounds completely indecent on your tongue, but right now you don't care, all that matters is William Afton and the wild need to be needed by someone, loved, appreciated. “Yeah…”

The release builds up with an unfamiliar, wildly pleasant feeling in the lower stomach, making you want to close your legs, but his hands continued to hold them apart. His tongue feels too good, slowly moving in circular movements over your cunt, paying more attention to your clit while two fingers slowly and smoothly fucks you, forcing you to switch from moans to sobs and soft screams.

William accelerates, his movements getting faster and rougher, but no less passionate, making you arch from pleasure. With one hand buried in his dark brown hair, you try to set the pace, but he can do fine without you, so it's useless, he's much more experienced. He explored you with his tongue until the trembling left your supple body. William could feel your walls clenching around his fingers. His free hand continued to jerk himself off with increasing movements, while he was eating you out.

You sighed desperately when Afton stopped stimulating you with his tongue, lifting his head and looking at your reaction, his fingers still inside.

“Do you want to cum for daddy?” he asks, you just nod quickly, wishing of putting an end to these sweet torments that drive you crazy. “No, I need you to say it, honey.”

“Yes, yes, yesss,” you say brokenly. “I…” an uncertain pause. “I want to cum, daddy, please!” oh, it was so humiliating, but what was more terrible that you liked it.

“Good girl.” William increased the intensity of his movements, hitting all right sweet spots of yours. You moaned loudly, feeling everything tense in your lower abdomen, which means an imminent orgasm. “do it, cum while I fuck your little pussy with my fingers.” William growled, his hand that was touching his own cock stopped, now squeezing your neck, pressing on the carotid artery, but hearing your wheezing, he his grip loosens.

Your moans, which are more like crying, turn into loud, piercing “oohs”, your head's spinning, your brain's melting, everything is like in a fog, you can't even see Afton's face. The long-awaited release is catching up with you. You cum, you cum so hard that you feel ecstasy running through your whole body, you feel that your breathing becomes ragged, and your pussy clenching on his fingers.

“Such a good girl,” because of orgasm, you don't even hear what he says, and you don't want to, you need time to regain your strength. “it's my turn now, baby.”

He takes his fingers out, brings them to his mouth and licks them, studying your reaction. William touches his member again, his heartbeat quickens, his eyes now closed, apparently he's thinking about something. Yes, he's definitely imagining something in his head.

“Tell me, do you love daddy?“ he asked, his voice hoarse from excitement. He isn't even looking at you.

“Yes,” you responses quietly. Taking advantage of the moment, you look at him in detail while he doesn't notice. Damn, how handsome he was, his long, such aristocratic fingers that played with the tip of his cock, rubbing cum along entire length, his slightly disheveled but insanely beautiful brown hair like milk chocolate, his sharp cheekbones, it was stupid to deny that he was unattractive. “I love daddy, I love you, William.” you didn't even fully understand what you were talking about. You was just saying what he wanted to hear.

He pumps his cock faster, you see how he shuddered, like saying your name or something else, you can't understand. But you catch yourself thinking that it's damn beautiful. If your mom found out what you were doing, she probably wouldn't be happy.

He cums on your stomach, with a loud groan, and then, breathing heavily, falls on the couch next to you, staring blankly at the ceiling. What is he thinking about? Is he even thinking now? You're lying obediently by his side, trying to figure out what just happened, but your brain doesn't want to think, your head is aching, your temples are throbbing. William turns to you, then looks at the crumpled dress on the floor, then back at you.

“Let's go to the shower, bunny, I'll help you wash up.”

…

The next morning came for you only closer to 12, when you were suddenly woken up by the sound of the door opening. It was Clara with Michael and Elizabeth. Confused, not even realizing that you were in their house, you jumped up from the couch.

“Michael, give Elizabeth that hoodie, you're not wearing it anyway.” woman's voice was heard somewhere in the hallway area, which means that she was nearby.

“Mom, these are my things, and just because I don't wear them doesn't mean that—”

Michael entered living room, but when he saw you, he froze in place.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?” he asked, a slight smile appearing on his face.

“Who are you talking to?” Clara’s voice sounded, but as soon as she appeared in the room, her emotions immediately changed. “Oh, hello, honey.” woman affectionately called your name, coming up to you and sitting down on the sofa. “Elizabeth, go say hello to Y/n!”

Girl immediately rushed over, you noticed a plush toy in her hands, it seems it was the same robot girl drawing of which Elizabeth recently showed you. She greeted you cheerfully, all you could do was say an awkward “hello” in response, still trying to remember how you even ended up here. Clara stroked your head, her gaze fixed on your face, on your tousled hair and lost expression. You knew that you had to say something in your own defense, why you were here.

“Sorry for such an oversight, I had some problems with my mom, and Mr. Afton told me to spend the night here.” you lied, and then mentally slapped yourself. Damn, this is so dumb. The Afton family knew that you had the best relationship with your mom and that you had never argued. You doubted how truth your words sounded, but judging by Clara's reaction, everyone believed you.

“Honey, I'm glad that you have somewhere to go, you know that we'll always welcome you with hugs,” she said tenderly, with maternal love. “You must be hungry. I'll go to the store and cook breakfast, what do you think?”

There was no point in lying further, you really needed something to eat, so you silently agreed.

Mrs. Afton went to the nearest grocery store, taking Elizabeth with her. You and Michael were left alone, you gradually began to remember what happened, and with the realization that you and Afton had something, you were overtaken by a sickening anxiety, causing your toes and hands to go numb and shake, and your heart to beat faster. You two were sitting on this damn couch watching TV, however, neither of you was interested in what the old screen was showing. You were sitting hugging your knees, wondering whose clothes you were wearing: they were of a child surely, with some kind of cartoon print, a t-shirt and, as it seems, Michael's pants. He didn't hesitate to look at you from head to toe, which slightly annoyed you.

“Michael, stop staring.” You hissed, tucking your face into your lap.

“I'm just trying to figure out,” he paused, thinking about something. “why are you wearing my dead brother's t-shirt?”

“What?”

“Well… I'm not accusing you of anything… it's just…” he scratched his head, clearly not knowing what to say to you. ”Okay, forget it. It's just my shit in my head.”

“Michael, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…” you looked at him. Why did William choose his dead son's clothes out of all? “There must be some kind of misunderstanding.”

“It's nothing, y/n, you shouldn't worry so much about it.”

You looked at the TV, trying to come up with some kind of ridiculous excuse, but in vain. And how long can you lie?

“Speaking of my brother… today, Elizabeth, mom and I went to his grave.” Michael muttered, you knew perfectly well that this topic of conversation wasn't the best, because the he blamed himself enough for what happened. You decided that the best thing you can do now is just listen to him. “You know… it's already overgrown with grass. We had to work hard to get the grave back to normal. Oh, and there's also a lot of webs.”

You knew that only people who cared for Evan's gravestone were Clara and Michael. William, after his son's death, never visited grave, and even more so, didn't attend the funeral, citing the fact that he had a lot of work. And when Evan was in a coma, with minimal chance of survival, Michael came to him almost every day, crying and begging for forgiveness.

You knew that Michael was just a traumatized guy and it was useless to blame him for all this, he had already heard a lot about himself from his father, so you just moved closer to him when you noticed him dropping tears on the couch and hugged him.

Half an hour later, Mrs. Afton returned from the store. Michael wasn't in such good mood as before, but as soon as his mother crossed the threshold of their house, he seemed to put on a mask of happiness, meeting her and helping to carry bags into the kitchen.

For breakfast, which smoothly turned into lunch, Clara served macaroni and cheese and caesar salad. Your stomach, which hasn't received normal hot food for a long time, rejoiced and you ate all two portions in a few minutes. Elizabeth talked most of all at the table, telling you something about robots and toys again. Yes, once upon a time Michael, and Clara herself, told you that she took after her father. She's also interested in mechanics and loves animatronics.

Looking at this whole family, you felt guilty about yesterday. Probably, to some extent, you even hated yourself. Mrs. Afton, the nicest woman you've ever known, after your mom, of course. Michael is a devoted and faithful friend, as well as a caring brother, Elizabeth is just the sunshine of this family, cheerful, everyone's favorite. And William is a charming and likeable man who was ready to do anything for his family and work. At least that's how the family seemed to you in your head.

You're lost in your own thoughts, stopped listening to Elizabeth's babble. The damn guilt was eating you, making you sick of yourself. How could you do that? How dare you drag a married man, the head of the family, into bed, and then sit at the same table with his family, smiling innocently at everyone. What the fuck is wrong with you? Mrs. Afton will definitely find out, Michael will find out and Elizabeth will find out, and then you will become a disgrace to the whole town. You will become known as a little slut who seduced a married man. Not just a man, but William Afton himself.

“By the way, honey, did William tell you where he is?” Clara asked, and you squinted, trying to remember what Afton had told you before you dozed off.

“He said he was going to the pizzeria to work.” you said, it was true. Clara's face changed.

“What?” a rhetorical question. “he never worked on that day, he always had a day off exactly… today.”

Meanwhile, William was already at the pizzeria.

#william afton smut #fnaf x reader #steve raglan x reader #fnaf x y/n #william afton x reader #william afton #steve raglan smut #dilf william #fnaf smut #fnaf william afton #william afton imagines #william afton x reader smut #Fnaf movie

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ingravinoveritas · 3 months

Note

Hey, have you heard/seen that Georgia has deactivated her X/Twitter?

(Grouping these Asks together for ease of answering.)

Hi there! Yes, I have heard and seen that Georgia has deactivated her Twitter page. For those who may have missed out on what happened yesterday and today that lead to this, you can read the whole backstory in @thetardisisblueandroseistoo's post and my reblog here.

I think this entire situation is a mess, and that no one on either side handled themselves particularly well. The attacks on Georgia were and are overblown and do nothing to help innocent victims of war, but at the same time, the counter-response of hyper-praising Georgia and saying how "amazing" she is entirely overlooks and ignores her own problematic behavior.

As I mentioned in my other post, this is not the first time Georgia has searched her or David's names, passive-aggressively replied to a tweet from a fan in which she was not tagged, and subsequently sent her followers after the OP to subject them to harassment and death threats. And it incenses me that there were about a hundred reasons to call Georgia out before now for things having nothing to do with this situation--including when she drive-by commented on another fan's tweet two years ago--but people only suddenly care because it's something that affects them. (Which, ironically, is the same thing these fans are accusing Georgia of when it comes to her own social activism/LGBTQ+ issues.)

What a lot of fans ultimately seem to want to ignore is that Georgia started this by picking a fight, and I can think of few things cringier than a grown woman fighting online with a 16-year-old. I know folks will say "That teenager was talking shit and calling Georgia a Zionist and she was correcting their lies." The problem, however, is the way she went about doing it:

Georgia left this comment up for an entire day before responding, likely under the assumption that her trademark snark on a random fan's tweet would earn her praise and adulation, as has happened so frequently in the past. It was only 24 hours later, when it became very apparent that this was not the case, that she chose to add the additional comments and continue digging a rather massive hole for herself.

That said, the subsequent response to her new comments today proved another source of frustration, as I witnessed multiple fans chastise Georgia for not making a stronger statement, fans saying things like "Just say you want a ceasefire, that's all you have to do!" Yet Michael said exactly this back in October, and he was ripped apart for it. What I seem to keep seeing over and over again is a willingness to forgive and defend Georgia because she is a woman and young, and a willingness to spit on and denigrate Michael because he is a middle-aged man. And what no one seems to get is that neither one of these are good, but instead dehumanize Georgia and Michael from both directions.

To your comments, @hunterofartemisblog, I agree that this entire Twitter feud is pointless and a witch hunt. It is the apex of parasocial relationships for these fans to make demands on celebrities they don't know and cast aspersions on their character when said celebrities don't "perform" perfectly to these fans' expectations.

Equally as troubling, however, is what I am seeing now, which is fans acting as if Georgia can do no wrong, and even calling her a "saint." I really do not understand why it is so difficult to treat Georgia and Michael as normal, flawed human persons. Attacking and tearing down Michael only seems to serve to obscure the good he has done (having more than proven his commitment to activism as a UNICEF UK ambassador and working with victims of war in multiple countries), and deifying and excessively praising Georgia only obscures the problematic things she has done and continues to do to fans while shielding herself from any accountability.

Most importantly (and what seems to have fallen by the wayside in all of this), fans engaging in the above behavior does absolutely nothing to help those who are suffering, and instead serves to bolster these fans' assertions that they are doing something "good." I'm left wondering, then, what people think Georgia deactivating her Twitter accomplished. Or in what way two sets of bullies trying to "own" each other did one single thing to help refugees, or displaced persons, or those without access to basic necessities. Because it did nothing. It accomplished nothing, except to prove that neither side can handle one ounce of criticism and will never be willing to listen to each other.

Maybe that's exactly what the people in power want: Performative outrage. Misdirection. Giving vulnerable and emotional young people someone around them to attack and blame, instead of looking at the actions of those above. And maybe these fans played right into it, to the point where some of them are even bragging about getting Georgia to deactivate.

As I said in my previous post, I don't know what the answer is. I am the last person in the world to defend Georgia--and I do not think it speaks highly to her character that the first time she ever faced any controversy and not being worshiped by fans, she turned tail and ran. But I also think that whatever cause these fans started out supporting has become an excuse to hate on Georgia and Michael, and a shield behind which to hide because these fans are so afraid of being hated on themselves.

Earlier this evening, I saw someone say that Georgia only appears supportive because she is afraid of being called unsupportive, but the same seems to be just as true of these fans. I think it would be insanely helpful, then, if everyone involved in this stopped caring so much about appearances and started caring more about honesty. Honestly about the people we admire, and about ourselves. Maybe then we might finally start to get somewhere...

#ourtubahero-blog #hunterofartemisblog #reply post #georgia tennant #michael sheen #welsh seduction machine #fandom woes #i can't even with this nonsense #i also can't imagine being so used to praise that you think you are untouchable #actions do have consequences however #and no one stays beloved on social media forever #trying to provide a balanced perspective #because going to extremes on either side is not the answer #but i will let my followers make up their own minds #can i please go back to writing about Michael and David making out now #thoughts #fandom drama #discourse

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bugsmunched · 5 months

Text

❤️‍🔥" Please...I can make it up to you!" || Mike Schmidt x GN!AFAB! Reader

Contents: Whiny pathetic Mike, like seriously so pathetic, Sub! Mike, Gender neutral reader, reader has AFAB anatomy, impact play if you squint, choking, dacryphillia (kind of), degradation, reader receives oral, reader is really mean to Mike, cum in boxers, aftercare

Word count: 4013 Words

Summary: Reader confronts Mike about not being able to pay them, and he pleads with them to pay them a different way.

Smut under the cut !!! MINDORS DNI!!!

-----------

It was quiet and dark in the house, the air still and cold. The only source of light in the entire house was coming from the silent T.V. which was playing a random sitcom. Laying down on the couch in front of the TV was Y/N, sound asleep and shivering slightly from the cold air. Their blanket had fallen onto the ground a while ago, leaving the poor thing shivering in their sleep. Soon enough the silence of the house was interrupted by the door slamming open.

Loud footsteps echoed through the house, and the sound of keys loudly hitting the table caused Y/N the jolt awake, head lifting from the couch cushions in pure confusion. "Hello??" They called out groggily, blinking a few times and looking at the dark figure standing in the kitchen. The figure muttered something that Y/N couldn't quite hear, causing them to sit up in an attempt to get a better look. "Mike?" They called out, their eyes slowly recognizing the shadowy figure that was standing in the kitchen.

"Yeah, it's me, Y/N.." Mike muttered softly, rubbing his temples and flicking a switch on in the kitchen, his figure now becoming illuminated by the yellowish light of the kitchen.

Y/N swiveled their head to look at the clock that was sitting on the side table. '4:17' "Why are you back so early? Don't you get off at six?" They asked, standing up and stretching slowly, fixing their shirt that had pulled up slightly. "You didn't get fired again, did you?" They asked, having genuine concern in their voice as they made their way over to him.

Mike shook his head, turning around and watching as Y/N made their way over to him. His eyes traced their body, admiring their figure...the way their hips swayed so gently with every step drove him just a little bit insane. He bit harshly on his bottom lip for a moment, drawing in a long, shaky breath. "No, I didn't get fired...I was just...sick of being there. " He tried to explain.

"Sick of being there? Michael..." they began, sounding disappointed, "You can't just leave your job in the middle of your shift simply because you're bored...it's that kind of behavior that will get you fired. " They spoke, standing close to the man, obviously annoyed with his excuse. "I mean seriously, you already can't afford to pay me. I can't imagine you can afford to be completely without a babysitter for Abby. "

Those words caused a bit of panic to spread throughout Mike's body, his eyes simply widening. "You- you wouldn't leave me, would you? " He asked, nervous that Y/Ns words weren't just an empty threat.

"Why should I stay? You can't pay me...and it seems as if you aren't even trying to keep this job. You act as if you're putting in so much effort...but where's the proof? You'd be in danger of getting evicted if you weren't living in your parent's house. Seriously Mike, you're so pathetic, it's annoying. "

Mike swallowed hard, wanting to retort, but he knew that what they were saying was true. He was pathetic. Why should they stay? They have so much potential, so why were they even bothering to stick around? It obviously wasn't because of anything that Michael brought to the table, so why even stay? The man grew close to tears, not wanting Y/N to leave him like all others had. The night guard had become attached to Abby's babysitter, and it was clear that they were one of his many, many weaknesses.

"See, you can't even say anything in return. It's pathetic - you're pathetic, Mike. I'm going home, call me when you can pay me. " Y/N said with a bit of disdain in their voice. They turned away from him, about to walk away before they felt a calloused hand tightly grip their wrist.

"D-don't leave me...please?" Mike whispered, looking up at Y/N through teary eyes, his lips turned downwards in a pout. "I promise I'll be better, I promise!" He whined out, desperation of some kind lacing each one of his words. Once Y/N had turned to face him again, he sunk to his knees, hands clasping together in front of his chest. "please, Y/N, I can make it up to you!" He pleaded, tears threatening to spill past the threshold.

Y/N sighed and watched as Mike sunk to his knees in front of them. Their breath got caught in their throat for a moment as the view in front of them was truly delectable. Such a weak and pathetic man, on his knees, whimpering and pleading for them to show him any mercy, on the verge of actual tears, all because of them. They released the breath they were holding, staring down at him, making sure that their face remained still and showed no sign of emotion. "make it up to me? How could you possibly make it up to me? Hmm? You're weak, Mike. You're practically a bug beneath my boot at this point, and here you are, begging me to not squish you. Tell me, why shouldn't I step on you, crush you beneath my boot?"

A shiver was sent down Mike's spine at Y/Ns mean, calloused words. As harsh as they were, it made him feel...good to be called weak by someone so powerful. "I-I don't know...all I know is that I can make it up to you! " He cried out, breath heavy with desperation. "Please...I can make it up to you.." he begged them. Soon enough he blinked, causing tears to roll down his cheeks, which made a smirk form on Y/N's face.

" Ugh, fine. You're so annoying, you know that?" They spat, scoffing at his pathetic words and actions. One hand grabbed his chin harshly, angling his face upwards, "If you want to please me so bad, then you'll listen to every word I have to say, understood? Not once will you disobey me, not a single muscle out of line, got it?" They spoke with a dangerous tone, eyes filled with something equally as dangerous.

The brunette was now shaking, bottom lip quivering as tears continued to spill from his glossy eyes. "I-I understand! Just please...let me make it up to you.." he whined out, inching closer to the person towering above him. He placed his hands on their hips, thumbs resting right in the dips, yet his actions were met with a slap to the face.

"Did I say that you could touch me? " Y/N asked, smirking at the sight of a red mark left on the man's face. Mike instantly retracted his hands, rubbing his cheek with one hand, obviously surprised by the sudden harsh action. "And that was me being nice...you pathetic little.." they trailed off, hand tangling itself in his hair. They tugged harshly on the curly brown locks, giving a scoff as the man rolled his eyes back at the feeling. "you're so desperate, it's disgusting."

Mike's lips parted slightly as his head was tugged backward, face turning a deep red. He felt so embarrassed and humiliated, but god if that wasn't turning him on. He squirmed uncomfortably on the ground, feeling his pants grow a little too tight. His tongue darted out, glossy spit coating his lips, making him look like such a pathetic little whore. "M'sorry" he mumbled out, chest tensing slightly.

He was becoming so desperate for any form of friction that he bucked his hips against nothing, eliciting a mocking laugh from Y/N. "Desperate little slut, seriously it's sickening how desperate you've become, I haven't even touched you yet. Not that you deserve to be touched by me. " They spoke harshly, pulling his head back once again before letting go of his hair. "I'm not even sure if you deserve to touch me...maybe I should just make you watch. " A cocky smirk spread across their face as Mike gave a desperate little plea, his eyes generating more tears.

"Oh please, I'll be your good boy, please just let me touch you!" He sobbed out, more pathetic little tears falling from his eyes. Their hand on his chin traveled down, soft fingers harshly wrapping around his neck and squeezing the sides, eliciting an erotic and truly pathetic moan from the man on his knees. A little bit of drool slipped past his lips, mixing with the tears on his neck. "please.." he panted out, staring up at Y/N with glossy eyes.

Y/N thought about it for a moment, licking their bottom lip in thought before they shrugged. " I mean...I guess I can use your pathetic self for my pleasure...your mouth can't be entirely useless, right?"

Mike nodded his head feverishly, hands balling up into fists desperately. He craved to feel their skin, to run his hands up and down their body, caress everything he could. He needed to be useful to them, to be used by them. He would do anything for them as long as it meant he was making them feel good. All he wanted was to be the only one to make them feel good. He whined softly as their hand left his neck, missing the tight grasp. "C'mon, whore. " They purred, dragging him up off the floor by his hair, making him whine out.

They walked over to the couch, Mike following behind like a lost puppy, eager to follow whatever commands came out of their mouth. They laid down on the couch, head against one of the armrests as they slowly signaled for Mike to come to them. Mike, who was admittedly a little too excited, stumbled over his own two feet as he made his way to the couch, crawling on top of Y/N, shuddering as their hand wrapped around his neck once again. "good boy...looks like you do know how to follow directions.." they whispered before they pulled him close, pressing their lips against his.

The kiss was desperate and full of fiery passion, from both sides. Mike was whimpering and moaning into the kiss, holding himself up with his hands, which he was frustrated by. He so badly wanted to just let his hands roam their body, but he couldn't. Mike had fallen so deep in the kiss that he began grinding his hips against Y/N's, the friction causing him to give out shaky and breathless moans into the kiss. Their grip on his neck tightened a bit as they pulled away from the kiss, anger evident on their face. "just as I was praising you for being such a good boy...you have to turn around and disobey me? It's like you don't even want to touch me..."

Mike's hips stuttered to a stop, eyes watering once again. "No no no! I didn't mean it...I promise I didn't mean it! Please let me touch you... please! I can make you feel so good, Y/N please..." He begged out breathlessly, eyes full of desperation.

"Oh my god, shut up. " They hissed at him, shoving his head down their body, so that soon he was nestled between their legs, just a few layers of fabric keeping him from what he so desperately needed. "you are so fucking annoying, seriously. All you do is whine and beg..like god, could you be any more of a desperate, pathetic whore? This is your last chance. Prove that your mouth is useful for something other than whining like a little bitch, and maybe, just maybe, I'll let you cum tonight. " They sneered, letting go of his head.

The security guard gulped, nodding silently, afraid that any more talking would lead to him being left to solve his issue by himself. He began to fumble with their pants, struggling with their button for a moment, which elicited an annoyed whine from him before he finally got their pants undone.

His fingers hooked under both waistbands and pulled them down, shimmying them off their legs and tossing them somewhere into the house. Once again he nestled himself between their legs, an eager whine escaping his lips once he locked eyes with their cunt, wet with desire.

"Holy...fuck.." he whined out, licking his lips as he took in the sight. His hands gripped at their thighs, pulling their arousal close to his face. He licked a stripe from their hole up to their sensitive bundle of nerves, letting out a breathy moan at the taste. "Been keeping this from me..for so long..." He muttered softly, letting his mouth dip back down, once again meeting with their sensitive clit.

His tongue swirled around the nub, pulling soft moans out of their mouth, which their hand promptly covered. They knew Abby was dead asleep but still didn't want to risk it. His tongue flicked up and down, mouth beginning to gently suck on their clit. Their free hand traveled down and became tangled in his messy, curly hair, pushing him further against their needy cunt. He moaned in content, bringing a hand up and quickly replacing his tongue with the rough pad of his thumb, rubbing in quick and rough circles.

His mouth traveled down their wet slit, prodding at their entrance for a moment before sliding inside, causing Y/N to tug roughly at his hair, hips bucking up against his face. They began to grind against his face as he ate them out like they were his very last meal, the foul sounds his mouth was making mixing with the muffled moans of Y/N, who was already on the verge of cumming, but they wanted to make Mike work a little more for it.

He moves back up, mouth once again pressing gentle yet sloppy kisses to their clit, hand traveling down as he pressed two fingers to their entrance. He slipped his fingers into them, feeling his pants tighten just a little bit more once he felt them wrapped around his fingers. Without hesitation, Mike began to thrust and curl his fingers deep inside Y/N, reveling in the delicious wet sounds their desperate pussy made. Their moans only got louder, causing them to bite down on their hand, thighs beginning to tremble. "please, Y/N...cum for me.." he begged, wanting his fingers to be coated in their juices.

After a few more thrusts of his fingers, Y/Ns mouth fell agape, silent screams falling from their lips as their back arched off the couch, simply coming undone on his fingers. They were shaking, breathing heavily, and shaky. The smile he made when they finally came for him was precious, he looked so proud of himself for being able to make someone like Y/N cum that hard. He made sure to fuck them thoroughly through their orgasm, pulling his fingers out when they were done riding out their high. Without hesitation he brought his fingers to his lips and licked them clean, shuddering that the taste of their cum against his tongue.

He looked up at them expectantly, after all, he had been a very good boy for them and showed that his mouth was useful for something other than whining and complaining. His big brown eyes were clouded over with lust, teeth capturing his bottom lip. His hands went to rest on their thighs, just wanting to massage their soft skin. Y/N looked down at him and just gave a soft smile, hand starting to mess with his hair. "you look like you want something, pretty boy. Well cmon, use your words, tell me what you want. " They spoke softly, in a very teasing manner.

"Please, I need to cum. My pants are so tight...it hurts!" He whined out, his eyes glossing over with tears once again.

"god, you are so whiny..." They muttered softly, hand sliding down and cupping his face gently. "But you did show me that your mouth can be..very very useful. I guess that means...you can cum. " They spoke softly, shaking their head in disbelief at how desperate he still was. "you really are nothing but a little whore, huh?" They asked with amusement.

"M'your desperate little whore.." he whispered out, his pathetic brown eyes staring up at them, bringing his bottom lip between his teeth once again.

"Pants off, c'mon. " They muttered softly as they sat up, looking at him. Mike scrambled to stand up, heavy hands messing with his belt buckle before he finally managed to slip his pants down around his ankles, and now Y/N could get a good look at him. There was a small damp spot on his boxers from where the head of his cock leaked precum, and a triumphant smirk spread across their face at the sight of the outline of his cock. It was straining against the light fabric of his boxers, desperate to be free. Mike looked at them, his eyes asking for permission to remove his boxers, but all he was met with was a shake of their head. "No, I'm going to make you cum all over the inside of your boxers, feel grateful I at least had the courtesy to let you take your pants off. "

He whimpered, his eyes watering once again, god he was so whiny and pathetic. "i-i can't fuck you?" He asked, sadly tilting his head to the side, bottom lip jutting out in a pout.

Y/N laughed harshly, shaking their head in disbelief. "Do you seriously think that you've earned that? Do you think that you've been good enough? It's good to know you're pathetic and dumb. " They spoke, a devilish glint in their eyes. "now apologize for asking such a stupid question." They commanded, their gaze making it clear that if he didn't apologize, they would just leave him like that.

Mike shifted his weight, giving a soft, high-pitched whine of annoyance. He knew deep down that he didn't deserve it, but god part of him still hoped that maybe, just maybe, they would feel a small amount of pity for him. But no, they were ruthless, denying him of burying himself deep in their pussy. He stomped his foot a little bit, watching as Y/N raised a brow, an amused laugh escaping their lips. "fine then, I'll just leave. " They said, standing up, and giving him a dangerous look.

As soon as Y/N stood up, Mike panicked, "No no no.. M'sorry! I'm sorry for asking such a stupid question...please, I need you.." he gasped out, his cock twitching in his boxers. "I promise I'll be good for you...please. " he squirmed uncomfortably under their gaze, eyes watching closely as they sunk back down onto the couch.

"Fine. C'mere. " They said, annoyance lacing their voice as they leaned up against the armrest, spreading their legs so Mike could sit between them. He sat down, leaning his back against their chest, wiggling around for a second trying to get comfortable. "Knock that off. " They growled into his ear, smacking his thigh.

Instantly, he stilled his movements, hands grabbing at the fabric of his shirt. Y/N's hands trailed down his sides, lightly teasing the bare skin, nails leaving faint marks on his side. His breathing hitched, eyes watching intensely as their hands made their way down to his cloaked cock. Their thumb slipped under the waistband of the checkered fabric, pulling on it gently before letting go. He gave a little whine before quickly quieting himself, not wanting to lose the chance to cum that he was about to get.

Y/N's hand slid further down, soon cupping the outline of his hardened cock, making him draw in a sharp breath. They gently squeezed, Mike taking his bottom lip between his teeth to quiet himself. Slowly, they began to rub his bulge through the soft fabric of his boxers, occasionally squeezing. Soft whines began to fall from Mike's lips, which only prompted him to bite his lip harder. " Y/N...can you go faster, please?" he asked so quietly that they could barely hear what he said.

The cocky smirk on their face widened at the soft plead, "I'm sorry, what was that? You need to speak up...tell me what you want me to do to you like a good boy would. " They said mockingly.

"Oh god please Y/N please please please go faster...it feels so good but I need it to be faster, please..." A particularly rough squeeze pulled a harsh gasp from his throat, hips bucking up into their hand. "I-I I'm sorry, I just need you so bad, Y/N..." He quickly apologized for bucking his hips, which made Y/N smile proudly.

"Such a good boy, you already know that that was wrong...Well, because you're being so good, I guess I'll speed up." Y/N said softly as they began to rub his bulge faster, applying more pressure. As they continued to get him off through his boxers, one of Mike's hands shot up to mute his moans which were growing in volume.

After a bit his moans got higher-pitched and his breathing increased in pace, stomach tightening and thighs trembling. "can I cum?" he asked in a pathetic little whine, head tilting back as his eyes tightly screwed shut.

"Yeah, you stupid little slut, you can cum. Go on, make a mess in your boxers like the pathetic little whore you are. "

With that final command, Mike let out a muffled yelp as he came undone in his boxers, thick ropes of cum painting the inside of the checkered print, a wet spot forming on the outside. He panted heavily, his entire body shaking. "Thank you...oh god thank you..." he whispered, leaning against them and just absorbing their warmth.

Y/N smiled softly and kissed the top of Mike's head, their demeanor changing completely. "You're welcome, sweetheart," they spoke softly, rubbing his thigh gently. "Let's go get you cleaned up, and those boxers in the wash, that shit can stain like no one's business." They said with a joking smile, standing up and extending their hand. He grabbed it and stood up, with their help, his legs shaking softly from having just come moments ago.

He looked at them with a slightly perplexed look, "You aren't just going to leave?" He asked softly, following them to the bathroom that was down the hall.

Y/N paused and turned, looking at Mike with some concern in their expression. "Of course not, Mike. Look I know I was mean during all of that, but it seemed that you enjoyed it. But that ended, and I can't just leave you in that headspace. I genuinely care about you, and I want to show you that by cleaning you up, getting you some water, and making sure you get all the aftercare you need, after all, aftercare is the most important step when it comes to sex, especially rough sex. Now come on, let's get you all leaned up, okay?"

Mike smiled, looking at them with a grateful expression on his face, "That sounds good, yeah." he spoke as he followed him the rest of the way to the bathroom. When they finally got to the bathroom, he stopped and grabbed their hand. "Hey, Y/N, can I kiss you?" he asked, his voice a little shaky, as he was scared that they would decline his simple wish.

They smiled and cupped his face with one hand, rubbing his cheek with their thumb, "Of course, baby," they said with a smile before leaning in and gently connecting their lips.

The kiss was like nothing Mike had ever experienced before. It was soft and gently, with genuine care behind it. Y/N's lips were soft and fit perfectly against his own. After he pulled away he couldn't help but explode into a joyous smile, " Thank you for that, Y/N" he said as he nuzzled into their hand that was cupping his cheek.

"You're welcome, Mike. You're so very welcome. Now, let's get you cleaned up before that all dries down and it becomes difficult to get off. "

#mike schmidt #josh hutcherson #fnaf movie #mike schimdt x reader #smut #whiny little bitch #so whiny it's annoying

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