|american horror story imagines|

|see you again • michael langdon|

first imagine for our handsome antichrist!

this will have a part two btw! so you'll get young michael and older michael ;)

make sure to vote and comment, it means a lot!

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"(Y/n)!"

My mother yelled from downstairs, earning a groan of annoyance from me.

"Come down so we can say hello to our neighbors. It will only take a few minutes at the most."

Did we really need to go to a strangers door and try to impress them? I was totally fine with meeting the neighbors while walking out of the door for school, or even them coming over first.

I know it may sound rude, or bratty; but I really had no need for socializing at this time and moment.

I was never one to talk, anyway. Growing up, I had always found myself observing others, never once falling into the crowd.

I would often catch myself wanting to be like them, extroverted and confident, but I knew that most of it was just a simple facade of theirs.

And I was somewhat okay being my awkward, quiet self.

"Fine, I'm coming!"

Sprinting down the stairwell of our new house, which was most infamously name 'Murder House', I made my way downstairs.

I was immediately met by my mother holding a basket of store bought muffins, as my father tapped his foot on the floor impatiently.

"Wow, how cliché." I laughed, earning an eye roll and a smile from her.

"Please, you know I can't cook." She whispered in my ear as if it was an unknown secret. Which everyone already knew from the countless amount of cookies and brownies she tries to bake.

As we finally left our house, we walked to our neighbors. The home was definitely not as big and lavish as ours, but it was cute nevertheless.

There was an older woman standing on her front yard. With a cigarette in one hand, and a hose in the other, she watered her rose bushes.

"Excuse me!" My mother exclaimed, my father curtly sighing beside her.

The woman looked at us, motioning us over with her hand. The three of us walked onto her porch, my eyes following her moody expression.

"Hello there." She said, forcing a smile onto her aged face. "I was going to go over and bring you a plate of brownies, but I just got caught up with things."

My eyebrows furrowed at her words. She seemed almost shaken up by something, but she definitely knew how to hide it well.

I gave her a smile as she opened the door to her home. Stepping inside, the smell of freshly baked brownies hung in the air.

"Goodness, your home is just lovely." My mother gasped as we sat down in the kitchen.

Her eyes looked over everything on the walls and shelves, a gleam of jealousy in her eyes as she spotted the brownies.