I really hope my fanfics don’t sound like I’m using language translation apps (I don’t use google) but still? I’m trying here I speak Spanish and live in CDMX but I know most of my readers are English speakers so I’ll try my bestest, (also your guys’ requests are chef’s KISS)
⎨ 𝐂𝐖 ⎬ michael afton x female reader . mentions of divorce , brief mentions of death + alcoholism . smut : dacryphilia , oral ( f receiving ) , dry humping , worship , munch michael , michael overall being pathetic <33
⎨ 𝐀𝐍 ⎬ very very self indulgent my bad . i saw fnaf 2 yesterday night and I’m not gonna get into it but i forgot how much i love fnaf and how obsessed i am with michael afton . i am actually tweaking out over him . anyways quick drabble ! i wrote this in like less than an hour so . mwah !
This isn’t how you remember him.
A boy; hiding pain behind a red fox mask and bruises beneath a gray shirt. That grin he shot you when you held two bottles of vodka in your hands or bummed him a cigarette. How close he had leaned in when you lit it for him. It feels like an eternity ago.
You weren’t much better, but he had been the only reason you stayed when given the option to leave with your mother. This town, this place, its history carved its way onto your bones that screamed to get out - but how could you? How could you leave him?
You’re troubled, that’s what they said, when blood stained your red shirt and the Bonnie mask you wore shattered into a million pieces below your boot. You, you, so uniquely affected by the divorce. You were just a silly girl, young, naive; who would listen when you told them you’d watched the bear be built - that you knew it wasn’t supposed to bite down so hard - that someone tampered with it.
And then Charlie died, and your father took up drinking, and suddenly Michael’s issues weren’t the biggest care you had. You were dealing with your own demons, your own guilt and shame that threatened to claw its way out of you each time you let a tear slip. And the best thing for you to do was leave.
College had been fun, a change of pace. You were someone different, someone new. The blood on your hands didn’t stain anymore, classes and parties kept your mind occupied, and you were close enough you could see your mom, see Sammy.
And then you graduated; and a choked up phone call from your father sent you running back to that place, that town. Your room still exactly how you had left it all those years ago, the house still far too quiet for comfort. Everyone else was gone, except for him.
Maybe it was those eyes that drew you back in, the dark, sad ones that made him look like a kicked puppy, or how awkward he was when he came around - your father being the only comfort now that his family was gone. Tall, lanky, bags under his eyes that told you he hadn’t had a good nights sleep in days.
A catch-up, that’s all it was supposed to be. Explaining where you’d been - apologizing for how you’d moved on from him so fast after you went to college.
So how is he nestled between your legs?
Wet kisses press against your inner thigh, dangerously close to the fabric barrier between his mouth and your clit. Quiet tears mix into how he presses his lips onto your flesh, as if he’s revering you; worshipping you.
Your head rests back against the pillows you hadn’t touched in years, staring up at some tacky 80s poster you had managed to tape on your ceiling. It’s all too much, but the feeling of his tongue swiping over the base of your panties takes your mind off it.
“You’re so - god. I missed you so much, please, please don’t go again - I need you.” A whine, soft and delicate as he looks up at you, bottom lip pouting out and nose and cheeks rosy from all the crying he’s done.
His pleading doesn’t stop, but it trails off when he manages to bury his face between your thighs as you squeeze them together at the sudden feeling. His tongue prods, pokes, nuzzling himself against your warm core.
Michael’s fingers come up to slide the fabric to the side, ring and pinky fingers keeping it in place; tongue licking a stripe up your core. Your fingers tangle in his messy hair, nails pressing firm against his scalp as he practically mewls into it.
“Please, please.” He repeats like a mantra, pleading over and over with you to not leave him again - to stay, to allow him to bury his tongue between your folds and just live here. To eat and breathe you and only you.
A content sigh passes from your lips as he begins a rhythm - no longer sloppy, eager movements - a calm, gentle lapping that his hips mimic. Pressing against your bunched up blankets, rocking his poor weeping cock against them.
It’s not like it’s the first time you’ve done this; sixteen years old and figuring out how to stop that aching. But this feels far more intimate, like it means something to the both of you.
His tongue continues its movements, the speed picking up with the movement of his hips, which jerk and rut against the bunched up blankets. Your legs quake slightly, when his nose brushes up against your clit over and over again.
And all too soon your eyelids flutter shut, that coil tightening in your core snaps, and his tongue slows as he laps up your climax. His hips don’t stop, and when you finally gather the strength to look down at him again he’s crying again.
Tears brim at his eyes as he mindlessly humps your blankets, desperate and needy, his cock achingly hard against his jeans. What can you do other than feel bad for him? You sit up slightly, propping yourself up on your elbows.
“Do you want to fuck me?”
You can barely finish your sentence before he’s nodding eagerly, climbing up to slot his clothed cock against your still slick core. He fumbles to wipe your juices from his mouth and chin before he captures your lips in a kiss; his tongue prodding against yours and you can taste yourself on him.
It’s not how you remember him, needy and pliable, but you won’t complain.
♱ — 𝖕𝖔𝖕𝖈𝖔𝖗𝖓 & 𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖙 . michael afton x reader ; this account is strictly for GAME aftons and lore so don’t ask for any of the movies, this is game michael afton our british man, reader has a fem body but no pronouns mentioned, again english isn’t my first language,
* ੈ✩‧₊˚
1986
It was a foggy winter dark morning, Michael arrived 2 hours ago from his shift at Afton Robotics of the Pizza World, he looked so messy yet so….god damn beautiful, his brown chestnut hair that makes your stomach heat….and he oddly smelt like popcorn and cigarettes
He was so hard on himself after all these years and how irresponsible and stubborn he is on taking care of himself, in the corner you saw a picture of you and him during your senior prom in 83’ he had braces that time and held your waste possessively and his freckles more noticeable.
You open a drawer, there was two old movie drive in tickets from 1982, to see The Shining, god you remembered that day, Michael stole food from the conscience store and after that movie you had to bail him out, what a way to mess up your record.
You felt Michael touch your thigh, you gasp and look behind you, his tired eyes looking soft and a bit boyish, he scoots closer
“Nostalgia, love?” He said in that sleepy hush tone you loved so much, you look down to see his hand rub your inner thigh, fuck….
“Aren’t you tired, Mikey? You look like hell…”
He’s silent as he simply eyes at your figure with need, love, like he sees you as not something to claim but to feel, like a need to feel that for a fact your body is spiritually his, to know you guys are one.
His gentle lanky hands made you turn to face him, you touch his cheek, he closes his eyes a bit but looks at you through his lashes, those freckles and sun burn marks, his mullet messy.
Without a say, he forced you under the blanket with him as he was on top, you gasp a little and look up him
“You smell like popcorn man…” you muttered.
“Ohohooo…”man”??? don’t talk to me like that….it sounds like a best friend talk, I’m your boyfriend.”
“Gosh you are such a diva.”
As a response, he lazy lifted your tee a bit, you gasp as you felt him dunk his head under your shirt, you obviously weren’t wearing a bra since who sleeps with a bra on?
“Get out of there, I’m not wearing a bra…” you muttered
“Since when has that been a problem between us, love?” You heard his voice under your shirt and felt him smirk “Ugh you’re so comfortable and soft….”
“Mhmmmm….” You sigh and hum, closing your eyes at his nuzzles between your bosom.
He removes his head from your shirt and touches your bottom lip, your beautiful (hair texture & hair color) hair, your beautiful (skin color) flesh, your eyes, just you, your soul.
“May I kiss you, love?”
“Come here pretty boy.”
He immediately made connection to your lips, his hands rub your hips to your thighs up and down, greedily touching you everywhere, he aggressively but yet made sure you didn’t get hurt forced you still beneath him and looked at you with need for your lips and touch.
“Look at you, beautiful….so beautiful.” He praises you like you were carved by angels….
You felt butterflies in your tummy, you run through his brunette fluffy mullet, his eyes soften, like a plead for you….
You both ate each other with kisses like there’s no tomorrow, his mouth oddly tasted like mints and a bit of popcorn but it was tolerant while your lips were devine
Michael cupped your rear and let his need get a bit better of him but not too explicit, his lips then moved to your jaw then neck
“I love you,” he spoke
Kiss
“I love you, f/n.” He spoke again
Kiss
“Michael, dear, ah….i love you too….”
He looks down at you and his hands intertwine with yours, knowing this is leading to a session of becoming one in both physical and spiritual.
♱ — 𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖇𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖉 𖤐 metalhead! michael afton x trad goth!reader ; college!au, michael is still somehow a bully but no bite of 83
𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖊𝖘 — this michael afton is based of the game lore, not the movie, I just happen to like british game michael more so please don’t request movie Michael:) Michael Afton is a skinny pants wearing metalhead not a baggy pants one
* ੈ✩‧₊˚
1986
You and Michael are on an hour break, he drove you to a music store where Jeremy worked for as his second job besides the Pizzeria. There he was, holding the steering wheel in one hand with leather spike bracelets as you were both listening to Top of The Pops.
“This next song was recorded by the Beatles and put in their legendary white album in 1968, it’s now beautifully reworked by Siouxsie and The Banshees, this is dear Prudence!”
“Michael turn that up it’s my SONG!”
“Bloody hell, loud mouth.”
Michael turned it up anyways, he looked at you sing out loud, your neon red blush from your cheeks to your eyes, your exaggerated Egyptian eyeliner, dark plum lips, bat-nest hair and your DIY-ed goth-new wave outfit, you were an absolute shooting star in his eyes.
“I see you have a new battle jacket, Mikey.” You say pointing gently at his denim sleeveless jacket with patches.
“Ah you noticed, love? I’m trying to get yarn to make a Celtic Frost patch, the only glam Metal band that are not wimpy KISS Mötley Crüe wannabes.”
“You think almost every band is poser garbage.” You chuckle and continue making holes on your tights
“It’s more like if you claim to be a fan of a band but are not willing to get deeper to it then get the fuck out here.”
“You’re not wrong. I hate wimpy posers like that, in the post-punk scene, these cosplayers only-“
“Shut up, post punk and those vampire freak clubs your into will never reach the level of goodness Metal has to offer.”
“Asshole-“
He squeezes your inner thigh to shut you up
You blush and stay silent, your wrapped your hand around his slightly veiny slender freckled hand
“You have pretty hands, Michael…” you sigh
Michael smirks a bit and pulls over at the back of the store where it’s private property
“I don’t think we are supposed to park here…” you said
“Who cares, Fitzgerald isn’t a tattle tale.”
He grabs you by your thigh and pulls you in the back of his car, you look up at him, his crooked but oddly attractive teeth, his freckles, his soft light brown mullet, his toned arms
Michael caresses your back and licks the shell of your ear
“Ew! What the fuck?!” You shriek, he howls and doesn’t let you go
“Cheap black cherry perfume, you’re perfect darling.” He says, his British accent soothing
“But you make fun of my style.” You whine quietly
“….If it actually bothers you I’ll stop.” He murmurs, his teasing wasn’t actually met to harm you, Michael loves you to the moon, so damn much, you were his everything.
“Mhm no not really but sometimes you go a bit too far.”
Michael kisses your forehead and plays with your band pins on your leather black jacket
“F/N you’re the most fantastic person I’ve ever met, goth or no goth, your style isn’t silly or ridiculous, the way you freely express yourself is so damn attractive and sexy, I wouldn’t trade you for anything. Never stop being you.”
“Mhm you’re so sweet….”
“Well I’m sweet because you’re the love of my life, how could someone not?”
“Do you still want to go shopping or do you want to be here in this hot ass car and make out uncomfortably?”
“Pfft ha! Well I don’t making out any where but let’s go shop, we only have an hour till we get back to class, we can do our smooches in my dorm since no bloke can bother us.”
“Mkay….promise?”
“Not even a promise because I want it as much as you do, or maybe more than you do.”
Michael got out of the car and offered you his hand, intertwined, your black glossed nails against his rough ones
When you both entered, you were greeted with heavy Mötorhead music, adult movie bins, albums everywhere, the smell of paint and musk, Jeremy greeted Michael a pat on the back and looks at you.
“How’s it going, fruit bat?” Jeremy greeted you
“Not so bad, just looking around with my boyfriend.” You reply, Jeremy then said “Oh now that you’re here, Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds and The Birthday Party albums are finally here like I promised.”
“It’s about time, thank you.”
Michael and you went to the second floor, there was Bowie, The Psychedelic Furs, Depeche Mode, The Smiths, Joy Division, Black Sabbath, you name it.
Michael normally would’ve let you explore on your own but today he felt like being by your side.
“Ah Jeremy isn’t lying, finally some good old Nick Cave.” You said, you grabbed their latest album “Your Funeral…My Trial.” And “Drunk on the Pope's Blood / The Agony Is the Ecstacy” By The Birthday Party and Lydia Lunch.
“Ah so you’re more into the industrial fucked up sounding Goth music than the lame dark wave.” Michael commented “good taste, not poserish.”
“Don’t get me wrong I love dark wave but I’d listen to Einstürzende Neubauten than The Cure any day. Love Robert Smith though.”
You chose a few Alien Sex Fiend, Current 93, and Joy Division
“2 dollars each? That’ll be 1.50 a pound back in the UK.” Michael said. “Let me spoil you, beautiful.”
“But you did last week.”
“So? You barely get hours, let me.”
“Fine.”
Michael looked around to see the Heavy Metal section, his eyes landed on a bullet belt.
“You have got to be kidding me, 15 pounds for a lousy Halloween store looking “bullet belt”??” Michael complains
“I guarantee you that belt will only last a week. Luckily you aren’t forced to buy it.” You replied, Michael looks at you “My last belt was unfortunately destroyed by Elizabeth, insufferable twit.”
“Michael shut up, she’s only twelve.”
“She’s twelve not two. Ugh, Whatever. Cmon let’s look at patches for my jacket.”
He grabbed your hand
“Pile Driver or Dio?”
“Definitely Pile Driver.”
You looked around the pins and your eyes landed on an Echo and The Bunnymen pin
“Gosh this pin, remember when you took me on my 19th birthday in 84 to see them live to perform Ocean Rain?”
“Ah yes….that was our first year anniversary, I wanted to make it about you, your eyes shining in happiness, I’d glad do it again and again.”
You nuzzle on his Adam’s apple, leaving a few dark purple lip kiss marks on it
“Mhm love, we have till tonight and you’ll have me all to yourself.”
“Hehe my lovely boyfriend, all mine.”
“Yea an I’m proudly selfish to keep you all to myself.” Michael replies.
That night, he parked his old car and carried you to his dorm, luckily it was the a Friday night and most are either quietly studying or out, he gently sets you on his bottom bunk, there was heavy metal band posters, lots of metal satanic imagery, the Union Jack flag, used cigarettes, and a few prizes from Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria arcade.
You look at his Foxy mask on the wall “You still have the mask?”
“Good memories of my senior years, how could I not?”
“You’re not still bullying Chris are you. You’re a college man now.”
“Of course not but he’s still irritating.”
You lay on his bed and kick off your winklepicker shoes and leather jacket, leaving you in your black leather skirt, dark purple velvet vest and fishnets from head to toe…
Michael got on top of you and rested on your bosom, you play with his mullet.
He took off his band tee leaving him shirtless in skinny jeans
“If we were to get married where would you like it to be?” He asked
“…Anywhere in Britain, maybe even is Austria or Czechoslovakia…” you replied
“Is that so? Why?”
“Have you seen their cathedrals? Hardcore goth.”
“I knew that was going to be your answer….how about Scotland?”
“God yes, or Northern Ireland, we have all the time to decide.” You reply
“Mhm yea but for now, I think my lips are asking to kiss you here and now.” Michael purrs and pulls you into a kiss, you groan and kiss him back, feeling his hands slither under your vest.
Your squeaks and sounds of pleasure fill the room, moments like this with him were truly worth living
Game Michael Afton lovers, I hear and I see you, I’ll never stop writing FNAF game lore fanfics, I love the BRITISH Afton family just give me so ideas PRONTO
Well I didn't know whether to talk about this topic, I even contemplated not doing it, but it's simply something that I can't leave under the carpet, I know that with this I also make clear part of my roots.
My blog is the safe space where I can talk and yet it is not normal to be afraid of that, since I was a child I have been instructed not to say out loud, how to hide in case of gunshots since elementary school, I have heard and seen things from close people that no one in their life should because it is not normal, it is not normal to live with the thought of “what if the next one is me?”, of being taken away by force or just looking for a job to see you deprived of your freedom.
And it is also not normal to find more than 400 shoes, human remains and clothes of missing persons on a ranch, the worst part? This was not even discovered by authorities, but by a group of mothers and fathers looking for answers about their missing relative of whom only clothes remain and with a lot of luck remains burned or consumed by time, this is not recent, we have been dealing with this for YEARS and it has only gotten worse.
We have no confidence even in those who are supposed to enforce the law, and our rulers? They pretend that these images and this hell do not exist.
My purpose with this? Maybe just to shout to the air and to be heard, if this serves even for others to investigate and be informed, I also invite you to admire the group of mothers and fathers searchers who are those who really take the merit in this situation, and if by misfortune of life you have a relative, friend or acquaintance in a situation of missing search in the links and listings of the items found on the ranch in Jalisco, regretting in advance that this is the situation, but no one should keep quiet about this.
Vigilia en el Zócalo de la CDMX, por todo lo ocurrido en Teuchitlán, Jalisco. Fue encontrado un campo de exterminio en el rancho Izaguirre, en donde fueron localizados restos óseos, zapatos, prendas de vestir y mochilas.
En el lugar se prendieron velas, se dejaron pares de zapatos y al grito de "Fue el Estado" se dejó en claro el hartazgo, coraje y frustración que sentimos como mexicanos (desde nuestra trinchera) por la ola de violencia que vivimos a diario y que llevamos sobreviviendo durante varios años.
Acá no hay partido que sea libre de culpabilidad. No hay espacios libres dentro de la política mexicana que no estén manchados de sangre y llenos de corrupción. Morena, PRI, PAN, el extinto PRD, Movimiento Ciudadano, todos cortados con las mismas tijeras: las de la indiferencia, la culpabilidad y la falta de compromiso con el pueblo mexicano.
Teuchitlán es el recuerdo constante de la realidad que vivimos en todo el país. ¿Hasta cuándo vamos a seguir así? ¿Cuánto más va a durar está guerra en donde los únicos dañados son los ciudadanos?
No estamos todos, nos faltan todos los desaparecidos, los hijos, los papás, los tíos, las mamás, las hijas, abuelas, sobrinas, sobrinos, de este país.
In one week's time I will be livestreaming a retro monster roster speedrun! For donations to my two chosen causes, i'll sprite your monster idea and add it to this dex!
Please check out the event server for more information on how to participate:
Check out the RETRODEX SPEEDRUN community on Discord – hang out with 30 other members and enjoy free voice and text chat.
Or read below the cut for information on the causes we will be supporting.
My sincere thanks go out to the friends who have helped me set this up, and who have already pledged donations so generously beyond my wildest hopes. I can't wait to see what we make together and how far we can take this.
Every day for the next week I'll be sharing this again with additional information about the event, the mons, and answering any questions!
Cause 1, the Guerreros Buscadores De Jalisco
The Madres Buscadoras are multiple groups who search for their disappeared loved ones.
You can learn more about them here 👇
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Madres_buscadoras
Though each of these groups deserves support, I had to pick only one, and so during the event we will be supporting the Guerreros Buscadores De Jalisco.
🛑CONTENT WARNING: human remains in all links below🛑
You can read about my selected group here 👇
https://www.facebook.com/p/Guerreros-Buscadores-De-Jalisco-61555458753120/
Or read a recent article about their work here 👇
https://www.bbc.com/mundo/articles/c4g972j2gn7o
Or on their instagram here 👇
https://www.instagram.com/guerrerosbuscadoresdejalisco
Or on their tiktok here 👇
https://www.tiktok.com/@guerrerosbuscadoresjalis
There's little I can say about these groups and why I chose them that does not feel trite against the terrible weight of what they have to do and the peril they work under. Take a moment to scroll the endless missing posters on the facebook page. Please help me support them.
For a while now I have been taking lessons in a language called Náhuatl, an indigenous language of Mexico. Like many indigenous languages it is in imminent danger of extinction.
David Marcelino Cayetano is a teacher, filmmaker, and artist, and his life's work is to preserve and pass down this language and culture.
I met him when I asked to join one of his classes, and despite being far from the intended audience he welcomed me magnanimously. He has been my teacher since then. I am deeply grateful to be learning from him, and I am increasingly conscious of the heavy burden he faces in trying to prevent the extinction of his language and culture. I would love to help support his efforts.
You can read an interview with him, where he discusses his motivations and difficulties, here 👇
https://www.sinembargo.mx/4242117/david-cayetano-una-lucha-por-preservar-el-nahuatl-desde-su-ensenanza-y-el-cine/
Or see his videos/educational posts here 👇
https://www.youtube.com/@Tlatoanitsin
https://www.instagram.com/tlatoanitsin/
Stranger Things the only fandom where you get gaslit and called delusional for enjoying a ship that has been canon since the first season of the show 💀
"el needs to be independent and make her own choices, that's why mileven should break up!!1!" EL HAS ALREADY HAD MULTIPLE INDEPENDENCE ARCS AND EVERY SINGLE TIME SHE STILL CHOOSES TO BE IN A ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP WITH MIKE!!! STOP DIMINISHING HER AGENCY STOP IT!!!
Im not a fan of hazbin hotel but if you make bullying hazbin hotel fans your hobby but are the same ones complaining about fnaf being liked by pretty girls because you were bullied for it, you have became what you hated
turnnoffyourmind
romaincrisis
prguitarman
kianamaiart
