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kaleldobrev · 10 months

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Without Hesitation, Yes.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Summary: After all these years, Dean finally asks you to marry him.

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Cursing (3x)

Authors Note: Flashbacks in italics | I love me a good childhood friends to lovers story | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

Dean had known you for as long as he could remember; first meeting you through Bobby. He had met you in the late eighties, when he couldn’t be more then 9 or 10 years old. Bobby introduced you as his daughter – not biological, adopted; but he still considered you his blood nonetheless. From the moment he laid his eyes on you, he felt an instant connection to you; the two of you becoming partners in crime very soon after your first meeting. Even when him, Sammy, and his dad were on the road, he still made sure to keep in contact with you, telling you everything and anything. He would tell you how gross the motel room was that they were staying at, the diners that they would stop at on the way to their next case, and even about their current case – sometimes asking you for your input.

Although Bobby was your adoptive father and you would help him do research for cases every now and then, he had never actually wanted the hunting life for you. But not being in the life was never an option for you; it was something that you had always wanted to do. So, when Dean Winchester showed up on your doorstep in October 2005 saying that his dad was missing and needed your help, you dropped everything, packed a bag and left; even though your father didn’t want you to go. He was mad at you for leaving, but understood that it was something that you needed to do; not only because the Winchester’s were like family, but because he could see the way you and Dean looked at each other – something that he tried so hard to prevent.

For as long as Dean could remember, he always felt something for you; but he never fully knew what that feeling was. He was between three different options for a while: he actually had a crush on you, he only had a crush on you because Bobby told him “Don’t even think about it boy” or he only had a crush on you because you were the most consistent woman in his life. One of the first moments he began to try and pinpoint which of the three it was, took place when the two of you were teenagers. Everyone was sleeping and it was just the two of you up. You had somehow convinced him to watch one of your favorite movies Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Even though it wasn’t his thing, he didn’t mind watching it with you because he had thought that Kristy Swanson was hot – but he didn’t dare tell you that. He had remembered how the two of you snuck downstairs to watch it, the two of you making popcorn and grabbing two sodas from the fridge. Dean remembered how engrossed you were when watching it, sometimes quoting from it or even acting out some of the scenes. He could still remember something that you said to him, even though it had been more than 20 years. “When I grow up, I wanna be just like Buffy.” For some reason, you saying that had brought a smile to his face.

There were a few instances in his life when he had planned on telling you how he truly felt about you before the two of you had started dating. But each and every time he had thought about telling you, he would back out, because he didn’t want to ruin one of his longest friendships. Before he went to Hell, he almost broke and told you, but he told himself that there was no way he could do that do you despite the fact that he knew that he was never going to see you again. The last thing he wanted was to tell you that he loved you and then die, and now you had to spend the rest of your life wondering, “What if?” A few years later right before he was going to say yes to Michael, that is when he decided he was going to do it. He had no idea why he had thought that was the moment, but his feelings for you just poured out of him like a dam that had burst. “I’ve loved you for a long time Sweetheart. Ever since we were kids. There are so many times when I’ve wanted to tell you how I felt but…I didn’t want to ruin the friendship that we had. I…I didn’t want to lose you.” For a moment he had thought that you wouldn’t reciprocate his feelings but to his surprise you did. “Took you long enough you idjit.” You told him, kissing him soon after that. “After I go into the pit, I want the two of you to have a normal apple pie, white picket fence life together. Do the whole nine. Marriage, kids, PTA meetings. All of it.” Sam had made the both of you promise. The two of you did have some sense of normalcy for the year – the best you could anyway, but kids, marriage, and definitely PTA meetings weren’t on the table at that moment. Someday though maybe.

Dean loved you more than anything or anyone. You were his best friend, his favorite person, the one that he could always count on; and most importantly: the love of his life. He never thought he would ever get the chance to ever call someone that: the love of his life. He had only heard the term once or twice during his life, mainly hearing it from Bobby and his father. Over the years, Dean had thought that he was in love before, but it wasn’t until he had a relationship with you that he truly would know what being in love actually felt like. The other times he had thought he was, he was in love with the idea of the person, in love with the idea of being in their world – a world that he knew he didn’t belong in. With you, it was different; effortless. He didn’t have to hide any aspect of himself in order to please you. You weren’t afraid of him, even when he was afraid of himself at times.

There was a part of him that knew that he didn’t deserve you – you weren’t as broken as he was. Yes, you had lost just as much as he had, but you were somehow stronger than he could ever be; which is one of the things that he admired most about you. When things got tough, he would hid behind a bottle of Jack and a mountain of self-loathing and sarcasm. Meanwhile, you continued to carry your head high and carry on like it was just another Tuesday with the boys or just another case. The only time he had ever seen you completely break is when Bobby died.

A few weeks before his insanely close near-death experience where he almost lost to a rusty rebar fighting vampires, he had went into town with Sam to go and get you an engagement ring. Even though he knew the type of jewelry that you liked, getting you an engagement ring was a completely different story. He went back and forth for hours trying to find you the perfect ring. “Dude, just pick something. She’ll love whatever you get her.” Sam had told him. It was in that moment that Dean’s eyes landed on one that he knew that you would absolutely love. “I’ll take that one.” Dean said, pointing at the ring in the case.

A month has gone by after his close near-death experience, and proposing to you is something that he no longer wanted to put off. He didn’t want to spend another day, another hour, another minute without seeing this ring on your finger. You had told him once a while ago that you didn’t need an engagement ring; that all he had to do was ask you to marry him and then the two of you could go to the nearest courthouse that same day. He truly loved the thought; but he had wanted to do something more for you than that.

Dean held the ring in his hands and couldn’t wait to give it to you. The only problem that he was currently having though, was trying to figure out exactly what he was going to say to you. “Still trying to come up with a speech there Romeo?” Sam said, his voice sounding a bit amused.

Dean eyed him, placing the ring down on the kitchen table. “I have no freaking clue what I’m going to say to her.” He admitted. “I don’t want it to be a chick flick moment, but I don’t want it to sound too generic either.” For the past several days, Dean has been trying to come up with a good proposal speech for you, but each and every time he thought that he had something, it simply just left him. Yesterday, he had even started writing the speech down, but kept crossing out everything that he wrote because he hated the way it looked and sounded.

“Word of advice? As someone who was going to propose…” Sam sighed a little at the memory; still briefly remembering exactly what he was planning on saying to Jessica. “Just be honest. Tell her…tell her all the things you love about her. Why you fell for her in the first place. You know things like that.”

“I said no chick flick moments Sam.” Dean picked up the ring again and started spinning it around on the table, momentarily forgetting that the ring before him was a couple grand and not something he just picked up at the Gas n’ Sip down the road.

“Then don’t make it one.” Sam walked over to Dean and placed his hand on his shoulder. “She’ll love whatever you say to her. I mean, she’s stuck with your dumbass this far. Nothing you can say now will make her run.” Sam gave him a smirk, and Dean just rolled his eyes.

“Bitch.” Dean said.

“Jerk.” Sam replied.

You were doing what you normally did on a Sunday morning – doing some yoga in the Bunker gym. Ever since you and the boys had made the Bunker your home, you had found yourself attracted to yoga; something that you initially didn’t like until recently. Bobby had tried to get you into it – weirdly enough; saying that it would be good for you. You had told him that you would only do it if he did it with you. “I already get pedicures with you, I ain’t doing yoga too.” He said.

As your eyes were closed and you were currently in Lotus position you heard a small knock on the door frame of the gym. You opened your eyes and a huge smile sprawled across your lips. “Hey you.” You said, your voice calm.

“Hey beautiful.” Dean replied, walking into the gym with you. He pointed to the spot in front of you. “Can I join you?” You were slightly surprised. You had tried to get Dean to do yoga for a while, but he always said that it wasn’t really his thing – he left the yoga portion of the workouts to you and Sam.

“I thought you’d never ask.” You scooted back a bit, giving him just a little bit of room so he wasn’t so close to the door.

Dean sat down in front of you, trying his best to get in the same position as you were currently in. Fuck I’m old. He thought to himself as he crossed his legs, feeling just a little bit of pressure in his knees. “You don’t have to sit like that if you don’t want to my love.” You told him. “I’m happy to just have you sitting here with me.” Your comment sincere.

“I uh, I wanted to talk to you about something.” Dean’s sentence made your heart jump. Not only because of the abruptness of it, but because it sounded like a ‘We need to talk’ conversation. Conversations like these were never your favorite – Hell, you didn’t know anyone who had liked these types of conversations.

“What’s up?” You asked, trying your best not to sound nervous while replying.

“Don’t worry. It’s…it’s nothing bad.” Dean reassured you. “Um…Well, it could be. But…I personally don’t think it is. So, I’m hoping you won’t think it’s bad either.” He sounded like a school boy trying to talk to his crush for the first time; you found it adorable. “Do you, do you remember when we were kids and Bobby would always buy you these ring pops from the store?”

“Yeah…Why?” Of course you had remembered. “One day I want a ring this big!” You told Bobby. “Not if you marry a hunter you won’t.” Bobby laughed.

“I remember, I don’t know if you do but, I remember when we were like…I don’t know, ten? The two of us were playing upstairs in your room and I took the ring pop and put it on your finger and I asked you to marry me. And without any kind of hesitation you said yes.” Dean started smiling from the memory. “Oh Dean! Of course I will! Why wouldn’t I want to marry my best friend?” You said. “You then ran out of your room, leaving my ass behind and ran all the way downstairs where you told Bobby and my dad that I had asked you to marry me. “Look daddy! Uncle John! Dean asked me to marry him! We’re gonna get married!” Bobby had told you years later, “I knew you and that idjit were gonna fall in love. I saw it when you were youngins.”

“Dean –” You began.

“Y/N.” Dean positioned himself so he was now sitting on both of his knees, holding both of your hands in his. “I honestly don’t know what I would ever do without you. Out of everyone that I’ve known in my life, you have been the one consistent thing in it. You have always been by my side even when I know for a fact that I didn’t deserve it. A lot of days, especially in the beginning when we first got together, I didn’t think I deserved you. I thought that you deserved much more than someone like me. Someone that could provide you with the life that you deserve; a safe and quiet one, not one where you’re constantly running toward the things that want to kill you.” He let out a small chuckle. “But, I’ve realized over the years that…Sweetheart, we may not have the most conventional life but, we have each other, and that’s really all that matters.” He released one of your hands for a moment as he reached for something in his pocket. “Close your eyes for me.” Without hesitation you closed them. The second you did, you felt something being placed in your hands. “Okay. Open.” When you opened your eyes there was a red and black ring lying in your hand.

“Dean…” You looked down at the ring and then looked up at Dean, unsure of what to say. For the first time in your life you were utterly speechless. You got up, getting in the same position as Dean, holding the ring in your fingers. Placing your hands on Dean’s shoulder’s, you leaned in and kissed him. You felt his hands and arms pull you in close to him as he deepened the kiss between the two of you.

“Will you marry me Sweetheart?” He asked, once the kiss was broken.

Without hesitation, like you had done all those years ago you said, “Yes.”

#Dean Winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x you #dean x reader #spn imagine #spn one shot #supernatural imagine #supernatural one shot #spn #supernatural #reader insert #female reader

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jamiesfootball · 5 months

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☔️

Now that I've actually read The Beautiful and Damned (essay still incoming), I've been thinking of an AU fic that explores what if Jamie did read the book in season 1. It....intrigues me for a number of reasons.

The fact that Jamie was the only one of the group to receive what is essentially a cautionary tale (no we didn't see most of the picks, but it feels safe to say that Jamie was the one Ted thought needed 'correcting')

The protagonist ends up a bitter, angry, abusive alcoholic. Granted Ted could not have known about Jamie’s dad at the time, but ough. Ted.

Giving this book to anyone and going 'here, this reminds me of who you are' is frankly insulting. I think if Jamie were to confront Ted about that, Ted would consider that half the job done. He clearly just wants Jamie to think about his actions and how he treats people. Unfortunately I could see this backfiring on Ted. He may not mean it personally, but I think Jamie would take it personally, especially because--

Aside from the fact that the protag is rich and full of himself and found to be charming, that guy is nothing like Jamie. In fairness to Ted, those are basically 3 of the 4 things he knows about Jamie. In unfairness to Ted, the other 1 thing he knows is that Jamie is a professional athlete who by definition had to work hard to get to where he is. Meanwhile the protag for TB&D has never worked for anything in his life -- the opposite of Jamie, our battler. In fact one of the defining traits and the reason the protag falls into being a penniless drunk is because throughout his life he was given many chances, and he ignored them all.

I think Jamie would likely get bogged down in the details. On the idea that the book was meant as a critique of him, rather than a lesson he could learn by. Another example of how Ted bringing up topics in a roundabout way tends to get misconstrued by Jamie as mind games.

Bonus round: the protag is very classist. The book occasionally alludes to the unfairness of this, but it is very much an ongoing topic for the protag on why he deserves all his money.

Bonus round: the protag is exceedingly misogynistic. The book almost never disagrees with this. Even season one Jamie 'women can do anything' Tartt would never.

So I think that a fic that explored Jamie's journey while reading this book would be fascinating. From the beginning where it's clear from the start that this protagonist is a spoiled, snobby twit to the end where the protag ends up a functioning alcoholic who yells at his wife and reminisces that by preventing himself from treating her in a physically violent manner, it makes him hate her even more. By the end of the book I can see Jamie being actively triggered by what's on the page--

--which would serve in a number of ways to kickstart Jamie's troubled history a good three episodes before the curse fire.

So yeah, this fic idea is less than a week old and I am still working on it but. Intrigued, I am.

Also I keep envisioning a running gag like that episode of The Office where Michael is watching The Devil Wears Prada and Pam is keeping track of where he is in the movie by what he's quoting at her. Except in this fic, Ted (Pam) would not know what the hell Jamie was talking about for a good long while, because he hasn't actually read the book since early in high school.

Why do I think Ted hasn't read it since early high school? Because if he'd read it later, he'd probably remember that there's a guy in the book who kills himself by shooting himself. It's literally one of the last parts of the book, and it's meant to serve as a punctuation on the consequences of the protag's actions.

Just a thought, but I think if Ted had read it after his dad dying, he might not suggest it to someone. Even if the meaning of the book fit.

For fic related reasons though, this means that Ted's trauma could ALSO be introduced way sooner. In season one even! This fic could have so much bonding through book-relevant trauma it's crazy to think about.

So. Yeah. New wip thoughts in progress. Whoops.

#in other news i got halfway through writing that essay and had people come over and I have not gone back to it -.-#ask game #wip game #suicide cw #abuse mention cw #ted lasso #jamie tartt #jamie tartt book club

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lilyrizzy · 1 year

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From my own cloud: Daniel on the phone struggling to articulate the issues they're having (before anything is ever public)!

Sorry mate this is kinda different than what you asked for but it ran away with me... Hope you like it anyway! Thank you to @catofthecanals289 for helping me with the ending, ly girl

Cw: implied past trauma but like everything is so vague, nothing specific!

Calling home has always been like pressing on a bruise. One already turned yellow-green at the edges, the pain long gone and replaced with a dull ache. A reminder of hurt more than the real thing.

Outside on their balcony, the November night is colder than the temperatures Daniel usually subjects himself to, but inside Max is sleeping. Picturing his mum as her tinny voice chatters away in his ear, it's easy. Halfway across the world, sunny's on and feet up, his dad lighting the barbecue in the yard. Both of them warm, the way he hopes Max is too, buried in their bedsheets.

"How's Izzy, how's Isaac?" Daniel asks, running through all the obligatory questions. He's not uninterested in the answers, just- It's more that the answers never change. "How's Michelle? Dad?"

Everyone is fine, fine, fine, fine according to his mum, and everyone is more 'worried about you Danny'. Her questions are always the same as well. Is he eating enough, is he sleeping enough? Did he see the photo Michelle posted on 'the cloud thing,' and didn't Daniel think it was cute?

Except-

"Are you really not coming home for Christmas?"

The bluntness shouldn't startle him, not after years of living with Max, of more spent growing up with his mum.

You'd like each other, he thinks not for the first time, if you really got to know each other.

He kind of wants that more than anything. To explain Max in a way that would make her love him too, but he knows the eyes through which she sees Max are different to Daniel's in a way that's impossible to resolve.

If he knew how to, he'd explain that Max can drag a laugh out from the belly of him in a way that no one else can. Most of the time without even meaning to. That he's honest in a way that is very rarely cruel, and so when he does come out with some cutting remark you know it's deserved. That when he first moved Jimmy and Sassy into Daniel's apartment, he slept belly-down on the floor in front of the sofa which Sassy hid underneath, hand holding a battered felt mouse out to her, so she will know of course, that this is home now.

That Daniel maybe thinks he knows what love, deep fucking life-changing love is because of Max.

"Yeah mum, I'm really not coming home for Christmas," he says instead because he also knows what it's like to listen to someone- Michael usually- wax poetic about their partner and think can't you just get to the fucking point already, mate.

There's a disapproving pause that Daniel uses to consider how dirty the grout between the tiles of their balcony is. To contemplate how and where he could hire a jet wash from, so Max doesn't have to do his workouts with Brad an inch away from what he is increasingly worrying might be black mould.

"I don't think it's very healthy, Daniel," she says evenly, and it's showtime if his full name is being used. "The two of you alone in you're apartment, no family, no-"

"Mum," he interrupts, the words muffled around the nail bed he's chewing on, "Max asked me to stay, I'm staying. It's not really up for like, discussion."

"Sweetheart, we just- Issac and Izzy were so excited to have you home."

He laughs, not mean or anything it's just- Funny.

"Come on," he tries, aiming for lighthearted but no doubt missing the mark enough to have him flaming out and into the boards, "you can't plead with me to leave good old bachelor Ric behind me and then throw a wobbler you guys are no longer number one."

"Can't you bring him home with you?" She tries stubbornly as ever, and Jesus what is that saying about men marrying people that are like their mothers?

"No," he says, shaking his head though she can see it. "Mum, please- He asked me for this. Don't try to make me feel guilty for giving it to him."

"He should think about what you want too, honey," she rounds, and it's a close call to Daniel throwing his phone off the balcony and into the sea, but- It's not fair. It's not her fault.

After all, there are other things he can't explain. How Max still flinches sometimes when Daniel reaches for him in bed, then says sorry so quickly in a miserable-sounding voice, it's like he believes he's running out of chances. Like he's not the fucking, heart line on Daniel's palm, the artery pumping his blood, or whatever else the shitty love songs on the radio talk about.

"He does mum, he-"

Rubber screeches against glass as the door behind him slides open, and before Daniel has even turned all the way around Max is saying his name like a question. Stood in the doorway in Daniel's too-big merch, he would look like every one of Daniel's romantic dreamings come to life if not for the tightness of his jaw, and the height of his shoulders.

"Hey baby," he says, voice softer than anything he's been using so far on the phone. He tries not to cringe. "Just talking to mama, is everything-"

"Can you come back to bed?" Max interrupts a little desperate sounding. Shifting from one foot to the other, he won't quite meet Daniel's eye. Instead, they focus on a spot behind Daniel, the shine of the inky sea in the moonlight most likely.

Daniel doesn't hesitate. He knows what Max's nightmares look like. Wishes he could siphon them from Max's brain into his own, one less hurt for Max to feel, one more way to know him better.

"Mama, I gotta go," he says, and he can hear her protests even as he presses the button to end the call.

In Daniel's arms, Max presses his face to the hollow of his throat, lips catching against the stubble there as he says, "sorry." Then, "I woke up and I wanted you here."

It's not always like that. Some nights, he wakes up from sweating and writhing and Daniel knows not to touch.

Now, he kisses Max's forehead, leads him back to bed and tells him the same as always.

"I'm always here, Maxy. Promise."

#i need like those email sign offs 'sent from my iphone'#expecpt it's like 'written on my samsung flip phone' lol #basically don't judge it too harshly pls and thank you<3 #my own cloud #fic #max/daniel #except** omg this is why i shouldnt be allowed to write w/o grammarly

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tsarisfanfiction · 15 days

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Ghostly Reinforcements

Fandom: Trials of Apollo Rating: Teen Genre: Family/Hurt/Comfort Characters: Lee, Apollo, Diana Tarquin was mutilating and disrespecting Hades' domain. Hades decided he wasn't going to stand for it. TOApril day 13 - Curse of Eternal Youth. Twisting this prompt dramatically here until it basically means "Apollo's Dead Kids". Vague what-if scenario I've toyed with in my mind for a while, where Hades/Pluto decides he's had enough of all the undead hanging around in TTT and does something about it.

There was something about being back in the Overworld that felt wrong, for all that he had used to live there. Once upon a time, the Overworld was home, was normal, was where his soul felt settled and comfortable. Now, it wasn’t. Now his soul fidgeted, uncomfortable with the large expanse of sky above him, the sensation of the wind brushing past him, with earth below his feet. Everything felt weird and displaced.

But it made sense.

After all, he was dead, and the dead didn’t visit the Overworld. Eurydice had tried, with the help of Orpheus, but he’d failed and she’d been sent straight back to her forever home in the Underworld. No-one else had even come that close, until now.

Hades was furious about something. He didn’t know what, wasn’t privy to exactly what his god and king had been so provoked by, but he knew enough.

Lee knew that his dad needed help, and that was all he needed to know.

There was an army of them, familiar faces to him. Some of them he’d known while he was alive, several were his siblings, or his friends, people that had died both before and after him during the titan war, and whatever had gone on after that. Some of them he’d only met in Elysium, others considered heroes by the standards of the Underworld.

He was directly flanked by his siblings – Michael was almost his age, having almost closed the gap between them and dying only two months younger than the age Lee had been when he’d found himself on the bank of the Styx with the heart-wrenching knowledge that he wasn’t going to make it to adulthood after all, that his dreams had been crushed underneath a giant’s club. There were Hunters he recognised, too.

Lee had never known for certain that the red-headed girl, Phoebe, had been his sister. Not while they were still alive. She’d admitted it when he’d met her in Elysium, and it had made so much sense. She and Michael still didn’t get on – but here they were, both in the army Hades had raised.

It was a huge army, but still barely a fraction of the residents of Elysium, and it hadn’t escaped Lee’s notice that so many of them were somehow connected to Apollo. Children, lovers, other descendants – legacies, they called themselves.

Over the millennium, Apollo had made more mortal bonds than Lee would ever have been able to comprehend while he was still alive. Now that he was dead, it was one of those things that settled in the back of his mind with a quiet of course and no need to think about it further. It was simply a fact.

And now, they’d been unleashed.

It was temporary, Hades had stressed. There was a matter that required his intervention at Camp Jupiter – another of those quiet of courses that would have sent living!Lee into a headspin but now sat simply as a fact of existence – and for that intervention to occur, he was sending warriors to deal with it.

Their march was a mishmash of styles. Romans settled into cohorts, Greeks scattered into whatever groups and arrangements made sense to them. People who were neither found their own thing, too, as they all adjusted to the bizarreness that was being back in the Overworld. For some of them, it had been millennia.

Time didn’t mean anything in the Underworld, not to the dead, but Lee knew it hadn’t been too long since he’d died. The young, most-recently dead of all of them had had enough time to confirm that before he took his place near the head of the army, with the other Romans.

Camp Jupiter was burning, but that didn’t matter to the dead. They didn’t have lungs that cared about smoke, or hearts to pump oxygen around their bodies. They didn’t have bodies the way that the living did, something that instead seemed translucent under the light of the sun, even though they could interact with the Overworld, a little bit.

It took effort, but the dead didn’t know exhaustion so that didn’t matter as they advanced, falling upon the army trying to raise the Roman camp to the ground and charging through them.

They could interact enough to kill.

The living couldn’t touch them.

Defeated monsters faded to Tartarus before they could lash out, and the souls of the defeated mortals, well. Clearly Hades was keeping a close eye on things, because the souls of the slain Romans joined their ranks and threw themselves back into battle with a vengeance when death didn’t stop them.

Thanatos was whisking away the dead mortals of the Triumvirate before they had a chance to try and keep their own war going.

The reinforcements of Artemis – Diana – and her Hunters simply sealed the deal. The goddess herself disappeared deep into the heart of the city, and Thalia barely blinked as her dead sisters of silver rejoined her ranks, fitting seamlessly back into the Hunt as though they’d never left. Romans gradually slipped back into their own cohorts, and Hades’ army of the dead gradually dispersed throughout the battle until it was over.

It was the first time Lee had made it all the way through a battle, he realised with some bemusement, but being near-untouchable and already-dead was rather a cheat. The dead pulled their weight as the fighting faded to be replaced with clean-up, pulling bodies to where they needed to be and searching for cowering survivors from both sides (there were children, in the city, children that the Triumvirate had been willing to slaughter alongside the warriors).

Lee wanted to say it was an accident when he stumbled into a bookshop, but while it hadn’t been his intent he didn’t think it was a coincidence, either. The silver-gold eyes of the twelve-year-old goddess that showed nothing but expectation when he accidently met them all but confirmed that something had pushed him there.

Some things didn’t need to be thought about.

“Lee?”

His name was a broken gasp, coming from a scruffy-looking teenager that Lee had never seen before in his life and who certainly looked like he’d seen better days. Actually, the only one in the room he did recognise was Diana herself; the other girls were also strangers, to him, but at least they were also eyeing him like he was a stranger.

The younger girl was eyeing him like an enemy, and Lee distinctly hoped she wasn’t about to try and kill him for a second time.

He was more interested in the teenage boy staring at him like he’d seen, well, a ghost, and the face was unfamiliar but there was something his eyes that wasn’t.

When the boy’s knees buckled, Lee surged forwards, and caught his elbows. It took all of his focus to not drop him, and the sudden movement from the other girls – excluding Diana, who seemed content to simply watch – implied he’d startled them.

Their weapons went straight through him, and he ignored them.

“Hi, Dad,” he said, because there wasn’t anyone else the teenager could be, even if he was all wrong for Apollo.

Lee was all wrong, now, too.

“What- How-?”

“Pluto took exception to Tarquin’s encroaching upon his domain,” Diana said. “My Hunters were not your only reinforcements.”

The black girl’s shoulders slumped in relief, and Lee realised there was something familiar about her, too. Not her face – he had never met the girl before, in either his life or his afterlife – but her soul.

“Father couldn’t have given me a warning?” she wondered, clicking the familiarity into place, because she felt like Underworld. Not the same way the dead did, but like their Lord did.

Lee fell to his knees, too, lowering his father the rest of the way down in the process. “My Lady,” fell out from his mouth without his control, because she was still living but her father was his Lord, and it was ingrained.

She looked flustered, and he felt a little bad about that.

“So what, you’re another zombie but on Apollo’s side?” the other girl, the one that looked a similar age to Diana but was probably actually that age asked. She sounded like she was trying to be dismissive, but Lee had spent years with Michael and still had eternity to go with his prickly younger brother. If she genuinely didn’t care, he would eat his arrows.

“I’m dead, not undead,” he corrected, and hated how Apollo flinched when he said it. “But yes. I was on Dad’s side when I was living, and I’ll stay on his side now.”

“Unless that’s overridden by Pluto,” Diana reminded him, and it was Lee’s turn to flinch, because it was true – Hades was his god, now, and obeying him was in his being just the same kneeling for his daughter was.

Being dead was a freedom that only lasted as long as his god decreed, even for souls in Elysium.

Apollo burst into tears.

Lee had to concentrate hard, as his father wrapped him up in a solid embrace, to make sure they didn’t slip through each other. The dead and the living were not meant to interact, not like this, and Apollo wasn’t quite a god.

The glimmer was there, deep inside him – so deep that Lee couldn’t see it, only knew it was there because if it wasn’t then no amount of Lee’s concentrating would have let the hug work – but he was overwhelmingly human and that made it hard to touch.

But not even the gods came into Elysium, so this was still more than Lee had had since he’d died.

Diana permitted the reunion for a few moments, before heading for the door. “This place still smells of burnt Cyclops,” she said, and swept out, her wolves – which Lee had barely noticed until they brushed past him – following.

“C’mon,” the younger girl said. “Let’s go, dummy.”

Lee didn’t like anyone calling his dad dummy, but Apollo’s next sob almost sounded like a chuckle, and Lee knew he didn’t know enough about any of this to judge.

“How long are you here?” his dad asked as he pulled himself to his feet – somewhat aided by the impatient tugging of the girl.

Lee shrugged. “Until Hades recalls us,” he assumed, and Apollo’s head snapped around as fast as a giant’s club falling into a skull.

“Us?”

Lee gave him a gentle smile. “Yeah,” he said. “Us.”

He wasn’t surprised when Apollo bolted for the door, although he was surprised enough at the teenage body trying to grab him in the process that he didn’t manage to let the contact stick. Fresh tears welled up in Apollo’s eyes as his arm passed straight through him, and Lee immediately lurched forwards to grab his wrist.

“Sorry,” he said as they walked out, the two girls following closely behind them. Ahead, Diana was waiting in the street, arms crossed. “I have to focus.”

“It- it’s okay,” Apollo replied, his voice shaking in a way that said it wasn’t okay at all, but there was nothing Lee could do about it.

All he could do was stick close to Apollo as they headed for where the survivors – and the dead – were cleaning up – and savour the unexpected chance to interact with his dad one more time.

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percyaugod · 3 months

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Gluncle Mike: Help Wanted 2

Finally got caught up on the game and some theories and now have some new ideas. Most of them are me considering a different end with Cassie's dad in the AU.

For the most part, the stuff I had with Cassie's dad would stay the same. He and Mike were close when they were younger but he was scared of what people would think of him and Mike being friends, reconnecting with Evan when Cassie and Gregory become friends, Evan telling him what happened to Michael, etc.

In this path, that's why he started working as a technician. This way he can work on the animatronics and constantly check if there's any unexplained behavior or …surprises inside. If William is as persistent as they say he is, and Michael isn't here to try to stop him, it's up to them to fend him off. There's no running away this time.

Cassie's dad going through the trouble of getting the figures and putting them together because Helpy says it'll help bring Mike back. Helpy who Michael put somewhere safe from the fire. Helpy knew that Michael would come back if his father did. Helpy knew chances were it would end badly for Cassie's dad and so many other people, but Helpy just missed Michael so much.

It does end badly for Cassie's dad and he ends up in the mask bot. The absolute pain of being forced to give his daughter that mask in Ruin.

When Gregory, Freddy, and the others are gathering the other animatronics on the way back after defeating the mimic and probably some kind of rabbit for the hundredth time Freddy sees the mask bot. He doesn't know who it is, but he can see that someone is in there, so they're coming with him.

There are a couple of ways this can go after.

A. Glamrock Bonnie was beyond repair, AI unsalvageable. The Endo and parts that they could use being used to make a new Bonnie that note holds Cassie's dad. A lot easier to move and talk but Bonnie might not be his favorite anymore.

B. They just use some spare Bonnie parts to make a new Bonnie. Now there are two of them. Evan hates it, but Freddy is now a bear that has two Bonnies and he will never let anything happen to either of them.

Either way, Cassie's dad was surprised at how well Evan took finding out it was him. What do you mean Michael is possessing Freddy? Are we looking at the same bear? He's letting Gregory ride on his shoulders, Evan!

They also bring back Helpy and Cassie's dad hates the little rat, but if what Evan said is true it has kept its promise. Loathe as Cassie's dad is to admit it, he did it to himself. It's not like Helpy forced him to do anything. If it tries anything again though, Cassie's dad is dropping a bowling ball on it.

#help wanted 2 #fnaf au #fnaf #fnaf security breach #evan afton #mask bot #cassie's dad #glammike #Gluncle Mike AU #fnaf ruin

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heardchef · 10 months

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Okay, so, can I offer a perspective as a viewer with no shipping expectations/affiliations whatsoever?

What I respect a huge amount about the writers and Storer is that they seem genuinely determined to make sure that the woman characters in the show are whole people, with stories and lives that exist outside of their connection to the main character (Carmy). I do think that’s admirable. And I also get the sense — especially having seen the reaction to the romantic storylines being what it has been — that the resolution on their part to come out and say, ‘No, it’s never happening between them’, might have something to do with *all that*, tangentially. Which is to say, would Sydney as a character suffer to be considered as a whole apart from her relationship with Carmen if that’s where they went with it? Or would she be reduced to just that; just her relationship *to* him? Because, internet fandom do be weird like that sometimes.

But, I do also think that people are underestimating what the *intention* of Carmen with Claire — and Syd with her Dad, Marcus with his Mom, The Berzattos with The Berzattos, Richie with his ex/daughter, Tina with School, etc — was, this season. Storer said that it was always meant to be a season where we meet who these characters are outside of who they are to each other, and the restaurant. And so because we get to leave the restaurant, when we’re back there, it feels like more. It feels like being trapped in a pressure cooker (or, a walk-in, if you will). Because everyone is all in, and the risk has to work, or they’re all screwed. And it all means more to us, the audience, as well, because we know exactly what there is to loose.

Part of the point with Claire specifically, to my mind, was always to properly bring Carmen home. He’d been holed up in The Beef since he got back, pointedly avoiding his life outside of those four walls. And so, when he’s forced back into it, he’s forced to accept that he *is* home — that people know him, that there’s nowhere for him to hide. He’s forced to accept who he is to other people, and to understand who he is, without Michael. He’s not just Chef, he’s Brother/Friend/Son/Uncle/Man. And so in facing that — that, despite himself, he does exist outside of a kitchen — it was always going to be that he went with safe if he went anywhere. Girl he’s been in love with since he was in school who knows his family and all his shit and who he doesn’t have to get to know because he already knows her, and who already knows him? That’s safe. Living up to an idea of himself that people already had? That's baby steps.

(And beyond just that, beyond trying for safe, is it really so unrealistic that Carmy would be bad at balancing life and work? He’s literally never done it before, by any measure.)

But another thing I think the final episode makes clear, is that Carmy had, at least subconsciously, been avoiding taking on the full responsibly of the risk he — the great hope, Food and Wine's Best New Chef — has lead everyone into taking. He lets Nat handle it, and he lets Syd handle it, he lets Jimmy handle it, and he even lets Fak and Richie handle it. But he was always terrified of handling it. And to be honest, he never really does — he doesn’t cram or keep his skills warm or go on a tasting adventure all over Chicago. He regresses into habits he had from before, that contributed to making him the wreck that he is, and he actively avoids having to confront the reality of work by escaping into not-work.

And so that’s where we’re left — with everyone a mess, in a mess. Season Three: Season One, Electric Boogaloo.

i talked about this a little bit before [here].

i think that part of the reason why people want to a see a romance between syd and carmy is because of how well-developed, interesting, and nuanced the women in this show are. i think people want to see romance tackled as beautifully and intricately as this show has tackled grief, addiction, and mental health.

i agree with your points about claire. yeah, this season was about expanding horizons and experiencing life outside of the kitchen. i understand what her purpose was for carmy, being the guiding hand to show him that yes, there is more than these four walls you trap yourself in. you are more than your work. i just think the execution was a little lackluster.

people calling her carmy's pete isn't the compliment they think it is. we don't see pete much but when we do see him he doesn't exist just to act as nat's lighting rod for all of her negative emotions. is he that sometimes? yeah, for sure! his relationship with nat is a big part of his character but he gets to exist out of that and i don't think claire was afforded that same dimensionality.

at the end of the day i truly do not give a flying fuck what this show does with romance, who ends up with who, or any of that. that's not what got me into the show and it's not what'll keep me invested. i just want to watch a show about a motley crew of chefs and how they evolve and change.

i appreciate you offering your perspective! sidenote: i found it sweet how carmy picks-up drawing again after reconnecting with claire. he's still drawing his ideas but instead of pants it's food. he may not be able to handle the responibilities he's faced with or balance his two lives but he knows how to handle some prismacolors lmao.

but, yeah. shitshow for season 3, shitshow for season 3, shitshow for season—

#the bear #the bear fx #the bear season 2 #the bear spoilers #ask

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doombum · 6 months

Note

Can we get your scoop to Michael head cannons? (If I ask this and forgot then Elizabeth :>)

I think you already asked that but my memory is awful and it doesn’t really matter, you can have some more scooped Mikey headcanons:

It hurts him to speak but he does it anyway because while Ennard was in control, it was basically the only thing he could control because Ennard/the funtimes just used their voice box. It brings him a strange sense of comfort to have at least one thing they didn’t take from him.

His body is very weak and he can’t do too much at once or he’ll get exhausted very quickly. Just standing up and walking can be hard after some time, which is why he often uses crutches when he goes out (though he hates it at first)

He became taller too, because Ennard miscalculated and he was a bit bigger than Michael was, so his body was stretched to accommodate. It made it hard to walk at first because he had a whole new centre of gravity (add to that the sudden change of weight because of the lack of organs, and he basically had to learn how to walk all over again).

He always hated looking at himself in the mirror, because of how much he looked like William, and that didn’t particularly change at first because he felt absolutely disgusted by the sight of himself. With time (and Jeremy’s neverending comfort and reassurances), he ended up getting used to it and even preferred seeing himself as a corpse than as William

He used to wear the mask everywhere he went, including at home, but Jeremy slowly managed to make him feel comfortable enough to not wear it inside at least. Though every time someone comments on his appearance or he brings a new ghost child home, he ends up having to start the process all over again. He is just very self-conscious and doesn’t handle well stares and mean comments

And here you go for Liz, because she deserves some attention too:

She is the middle child in my AU (just because I like the idea of Evan being the youngest). She is also the one who died first in the family.

She acts a lot like a spoiled kid and always demands to be offered things and be the centre of attention, but she is not really that spoiled in reality. Her father ignores her a lot and only gives her things so that she’d stop bothering him. Mike tries to please her, but he doesn’t have much money to give her as much as she wants. She easily gets jealous of other kids as a result.

She comes off as very selfish and bratty to other kids in her class, but it’s just because she tries to imitate William. At home, she is really kind and always tries to help her brothers and spend time with them. She plays and draws with Evan a lot and they often watch Fredbear and Friends together. She also tries to help Mike around the house because she sees that he’s tired and doing his best to care for them so she wants to participate.

She would get jealous of her brothers, but she could see that they weren’t really getting more attention than she was. The three of them were actually pretty close before everything went to shit when William killed Charlie. Grief is what ultimately drove them all apart.

She didn’t really have any friends in school and it really bothered her a lot because she couldn’t understand what she was doing wrong. Her brothers tried to cheer her up but it didn’t always work.

She idolises William all the way up to fnaf 6, when she finds out he planned for her to kill Mike at SL and she feels betrayed. She sticks with Mike from then on and considers him her new dad/father figure because he always was there for her and William can go rot in Cassidy’s hell.

She never wanted to actually kill the nightguard, but she had been alone, scared and in pain in the SL basement for decades and she just couldn’t take it anymore. She felt awful the whole time Ennard was using Mike’s corpse as a skinsuit and was trying to convince the funtimes to leave now that they were free. She really hoped that the nightguard was not conscious of the whole thing (she was horrified to find out he was).

#fnaf #michael afton #elizabeth afton #tw body horror #tw neglect #jeremike #ask

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farfromstrange · 11 months

Text

Chaos Theory | Michael Kinsella x Reader

Chapter 2: I Know That You Feel Like A Piece Of You’s Dead Inside

Masterlist ° Chapter List

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Barista!Reader (she/her)

Summary: Your day goes a little less ideal when someone very dear to you messages you after breaking off conversation for a while, and it triggers memories you swallowed for a long time. That evening, Michael stands in front of your door like you agreed on, but he's not okay and he needs to channel his emotions into something else - into you. You just hope you can find a way to talk like adults sometime, but you and he are eerily similar when it comes to hiding your past away from prying eyes and pity.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of child abuse, parental trauma, mentions of death and violence, SMUT, choking, oral (f!receiving), unprotected p in v, praise kink, Michael Kinsella Begging, hurt/comfort (18+ MINORS DNI)

Word Count: 5.3k

A/n: Don't be like Mikey, find healthy coping mechanisms! This is written mostly from Reader's POV. This is about you and your day. The next chapter is going to be about what happened during Michael's day that ultimately lead him to the decision he makes in the end. So it'll be his POV next. Also, can you tell how I make my chapter titles?

You wouldn’t consider your past particularly dark. You don’t want to say it was traumatic because when you look at Oliver, who lost years of his life in prison for a mistake he made when he was a teenager, or Michael, who struggled to accept himself and other things he has yet to tell you about; he lost his wife, he went through hell, he went to prison and he has to live with the weight of the blood on his hands for crimes he committed in the same of his family. He lost custody of his daughter and he struggles to get it back. Whatever else he’s hiding, it must be equally as traumatic if not worse. It changed a lot inside of him, you can tell. It would be weird if it hadn’t, to be honest.

Trauma changes people.

You don’t want to know about the nightmares, how the pictures of his wife’s death haunt him. What he experienced in prison must be haunting him just the same. But there is something else about him, something he isn’t telling you.

Your thoughts switch to his daughter. He didn’t say if she was present when the shooting happened. If she was, the poor girl must be traumatized too. How old must she be? They said in the papers that she was just a young girl then, so maybe she is a teenager now, or on her way to becoming one, anyway.

She’s staying with her grandma, and the woman is surely not thrilled that Michael is out of prison, nor would she be thrilled that he is fighting to get custody of his daughter again. It must be so confusing for Anna – that is if she even knows that her father is back – and for Michael as well because he doesn’t know how likely it is that he’d get her back. He knows the chances are slim, but he doesn’t know how slim, and then there is the fear that Anna might not even want to see him.

He’s troubled and he is lucky that you came around or he would have collapsed under the weight on his shoulders.

So no, you wouldn’t say you’re traumatized because compared to him, you got lucky.

Your dad isn’t a drug mule, he just never liked you that much. Over time, you grew used to getting disappointed, so you started trying as hard as you could to make the people in your life stick around. You wanted him to be proud of you.

But you didn’t grow up in a crime family and you never learned how to hurt someone the way Michael did. You can live with your father not liking you; you got used to it. What bugs you though is that after choosing to chase your dream of becoming a writer, you lost what little you had left of the family members who liked you – and now you doubt that you’re making them proud anymore.

The thoughts didn’t come up without reason. You’re on your lunch break, checking your phone when a message pops up.

A while ago, before you moved all the way across the ocean (and by all the way you mean just a little, considering Ireland is right next to England), you gave your sister, who had just freshly turned twelve, your number. You wanted to keep the lines open if she ever needed anything.

She’s sixteen now, a teenager.

Your sister has always clung to you in one way or another. Even as a baby, when you used to babysit her, you had a certain connection. You were the person she could always count on. The more it hurt you and her when you chose to leave.

The lack of support from your family brought back memories and you had to remove yourself from the narrative to find yourself and learn how to be happy for once in your life because the life you were living back then only made you feel worse.

The message pops up and you frown. She hasn’t texted you in a while, and part of you figured she might not want to be in contact with you anymore, which made you a little miserable, so you are surprised when her name shows up on the screen.

It is a simple ‘hey’, but it triggers all kinds of alarms in your head.

You choose to answer the same thing.

She’s a mystery, that one, because she reads your message, but doesn’t answer. Something in your gut tells you that something isn’t right. You hesitate with pressing the call button. Maybe she accidentally texted you and doesn’t want to hear from you. Maybe you surprised her with your reply because you, as well, didn’t put effort into maintaining the connection.

Your thoughts are interrupted by Sarah. “Hey, we have a whole bunch of tourists coming in,” she says. “Can ya cut your lunch break short? Oliver and I could use the help.”

You purse your lips before turning off your phone. “Sure,” you say because saying no is not something you are physically capable of.

She taps the door frame. “Thanks, darling.”

You would call your sister later, you tell yourself. Or maybe she will text you back and you can talk about whatever her dubious text message meant without dancing around it. You just hope she isn’t in any imminent danger or you wouldn’t be able to forgive yourself.

The workday drags on. It is Sarah’s turn to close up, so you get to go home early. When you drive down the street that leads to your apartment, you pass the gas station that you have learned to avoid; it has a large tendency to get robbed – and now, after learning about Michael, you’re sure it’s just a front for illegal activities.

As you approach, traffic slows down and you find yourself staring at the bright blue lights of several police cars. There is an ambulance, but no one is moving. It’s then you catch a glimpse of the coroner’s car.

Shit.

As far as you know, in the past robberies, people only got hurt, not killed. And now someone is dead. You see them rolling the gurney with the body bag out onto the street and into the car.

Your blood runs cold.

You want to assure yourself that it’s fine, that it’s none of your business, and that Michael’s family has nothing to do with it, but there is a slight possibility that the Kinsellas could be responsible, and you hate the thought of that.

The police coordinate traffic and lead you down a different street. It adds a few extra kilometers, but you don’t mind. You just want to get home.

There are no parking spaces reserved for the residents, which sucks because that means you have to park on the side of the street and sometimes, the only spaces left are a very long way away from your apartment. You still take the five-minute walks; you have no other choice.

Although when you walk from the starting point of the street to the end where your apartment complex is, your heart starts beating faster. What if you’re being followed? You’re paranoid, you know that, but your optimism goes out the window when you think about the fact that a literal murder has taken place not far from your home and that perhaps, the situation is more dire than you first thought. And you’re not talking about Michael this time.

He doesn’t once cross your mind as you walk faster, your keys clutched tightly between your fingers. It’s not just the fear of a psychopath roaming the streets (you’re not even sure what happened), it’s the fear of being taken and stripped of your dignity in other ways, and that’s just something you, as a woman, have gotten used to. Still, it makes you shiver when you think about it.

There is a deadbolt at your door, which had always felt very American to you before and unnecessary, but today, as you step through the door, you shut your door and put the deadbolt in place, locking your front door twice before you even think about taking a breath.

What did you get yourself into? And what is wrong with you that you now suspect evil in everything that surrounds you? You’re really not sure if it’s because of your sister, the gas station, or Michael. You fear it’s all three and it makes you wonder if Sarah was right with what she said.

"Promise me that if you smell even the slightest whiff of danger, ya'll walk away?”

You promised her, but you can’t walk away. You can’t run. You’re not even sure if you want to. You like him, you’re curious about where your relationship could go, and he is trying to be better. For his daughter, maybe even for you.

He’s a good guy. He made mistakes, but he told you he wasn’t responsible for his wife’s death and the people he hurt before were sacrifices he made for his family. He hates himself, but you don’t, and the fact you’re so easily falling for him makes this so much harder to think about. But you do.

The question irks you, is the danger worth it? Are you ready for what’s to come? Do you want to face it? Or do you want to live in denial?

Man, this sucks.

But you don’t want to leave, so you’re not going to. You can’t, not even if your life depended on it. You are hopelessly devoted to Michael Kinsella, and the inner conflict the knowledge about his past elicits in you is scary as hell, scarier than falling in love with a man who desperately needs it.

You’re not sure what to say when you call your sister and the line clicks. She whispers a simple, “Hey,” but she sounds so vulnerable now.

You have a cup of hazelnut coffee in front of you – on ice because you feel that better fits your mood; cold and dead inside – but it doesn’t soothe the act in your chest like it usually does.

“Hey,” you answer. “It’s been a while… how are you?”

There’s a beat of silence. You imagine her shrugging. “I’m alright,” she lies. You know it’s a lie.

“Maya, what happened?”

“Dad–”

“Did he hurt you?” Sadly, this is the first thing that comes to mind when you think about him.

It shouldn’t have to be like that.

She’s quick to reply, “No! No, he didn’t. He wouldn’t–” she says, but cuts herself off.

He hasn’t hurt her, he never has, but he hurt you, and saying that he wouldn’t isn’t the full truth. He would, just not with her. He loves her.

At first, that made you jealous, feral even, but you are several years apart and she’s just a kid. You’re almost like another parent to her, not just her sister. That’s the curse of being the oldest child, but you took the responsibility the moment she was born and you try to do right by her, always.

Well, you’ve been failing at that lately, and you ignored the nagging feeling in your chest that told you that you were being just as awful as your parents – no, your father.

You didn’t want to be neglectful, but navigating your life isn’t easy, and part of you still lives in denial about everything. You avoid conflict, so you avoid your family. It’s only natural. In your case, at least.

“I snuck out a couple of days ago,” Maya admits quietly. “I didn’t climb out of the window or anything. I told Mom and Dad that I was going to hang out with a friend. But they figured out I lied.”

You know what that’s like. You tried to be the perfect daughter in the past, especially after the first time your father lost it when you went to a party instead of studying. But there is more to it, you can hear it in her voice.

“I lied and Dad– He put this spyware on my phone–”

“Oh boy,” you mutter under your breath.

“He told me he wouldn’t pay for this field trip my class has planned and he took my phone for a couple of days,” she says. “But I managed to find it so I could call you. I needed to call you.” Her voice cracks and you can hear she’s starting to cry. Her soft sniffles fill your ears and poison your heart.

“I’m so sorry,” is all you can say to that.

That’s why she called; you’re the only one who understands.

“I didn’t know who else to turn to. I feel so violated…”

“I know what that’s like.”

“I just… I feel so alone. They don’t understand and I–” she breaks off with a sob. “I’m sorry I haven’t called or texted, but I didn’t want to bother you.”

You call her name softly, stopping her right there. “You could never bother me,” you say.

“But–”

“No buts.”

“Your job and everything, I just thought… never mind.”

“Don’t worry about that. I just wish I could help you.”

The distance makes it hard to comfort her, even though you want nothing more than that.

“It’s okay, I guess I just needed to hear your voice. I miss you.”

I miss you. It breaks her heart to hear her so hopeless. You want to hug her, pull her out of this hole, but you can’t. She needs you and you can’t be there. You’ve been so busy trying to be happy that you abandoned the one person in your family who cares about you, and who needs you more than anything because you understand what it’s like to have him as a father. It’s vile that you’re here and she’s over there, the distance too wide and the world too big.

“Yeah,” you murmur, “I miss you too.”

“Thank you. For answering my text and calling back, I mean,” she says.

“Always.” You pause before making a decision. “Listen, I have some money saved,” you tell her. “It’s not a lot, but if you tell me how much your field trip costs, I can send you the money so you can go.”

You can hear her shake her head against the phone. “I can’t accept that.”

“Yes, you can. You’re my sister. I’ll live.”

Truth is, you’re barely making ends meet, your rent being higher than ever after the latest raise and you need your saving, but she is your sister. You might need to pick up a few extra shifts and do overtime; you can get your money back like that.

“Thank you,” she sniffles.

“You’re welcome.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” you say before bidding your goodbyes. “Call me if you need anything else.”

“I will,” Maya says.

“Good.”

One of these days, you will buy her a plane ticket and take her in because you can’t let her stay where she is now. She doesn’t deserve it.

There is a knock on your door. You forgot to text Michael that you were off early, so you don’t exactly expect to see him when you open the door. You were wrong. He’s standing there, his hair disheveled as if he’d run his hands through it a million times. He’s carrying a small back and a scowl on his face.

This can’t be good.

How you’ve become the address for everyone who needs emotional support, you’re not sure, maybe it’s your helpful nature that draws emotionally damaged people in, but as soon as you see his face, you stop thinking about what you need and focus solely on him.

It doesn’t matter much now, anyway.

“Hey,” you say softly.

He looks up at you with his puppy dog eyes. Looking at him you could easily compare him to a puppy who has been kicked to the curb and left there. When his eyes fall upon your face, something switches in him. His bag drops to the floor just at the entrance and he pushes you into the apartment with full force.

You gasp when he slams the door shut, pushing you up against the wall, and then his lips find yours in a passionate embrace.

You push against him. “Mikey,” you breathe against his lips, “What’s wrong?”

This doesn’t feel right. His eagerness to kiss you, to have you. You shouldn’t indulge him, but God, he is such a good kisser, and his hands… They wander over your body and you swear you’re on fire.

“Doesn’t matter,” he says. “I need ya, pet.”

And the tone of his voice says now.

“You’re not yourself,” you try to argue, but your body betrays you.

He pauses, his eyes finally meeting yours, and they seem almost black. “I know,” his voice is raspy, and the heat of the moment dissipates when he leans his forehead against yours.

You bury your hands in the hair on the nape of his neck, closing your eyes. You don’t quite understand what he needs because he doesn’t talk, he simply stays like this with you for a moment.

“I need ta forget,” he whispers then.

Your eyes soften. “Forget what?” you ask.

“I’m gonna tell ya later, but I need you. I need ya so bad, love. Please.”

He doesn’t touch you though, not without your permission, and that says a lot about the kind of man he is.

“This is a bad idea. You shouldn’t use sex as a coping mechanism. I–”

“Say you don’t want it and I’ll stop. Right now. But I’m beggin’ ya. Please.”

He begs. Shit.

His hand cups your cheek. “Please,” he begs again.

You go weak in the knees. He sounds so wracked already. You can feel him against your inner thigh as he presses his leg between yours, keeping you pinned to the wall with all his might. He’s incredibly strong.

“I’m–”

You need him. It’s a voice in your head that screams, and your body yearns for his touch. His hands are still on your hips, and it reminds you of the night you first slept together. He’s good at what he does. And you need him just as badly as he wants you right now.

“Okay,” you cave.

“Okay?” he asks to clarify.

“Yes.”

He exhales. “Thank you.”

He turns into a needy mess as he bunches your dress up around your waist and gets on his knees before you. Oh, that sight… It’s almost enough to make you come. You’re dripping at this point. It only takes a single touch from him and you can’t help it, your body reacts instantly.

Michael grabs your thigh, placing it over his shoulder before he simply pulls your underwear aside – he doesn’t waste time taking them off, he doesn’t have the patience for that and to be quite frank, neither do you.

You throw your head back into the wall when the tip of his tongue circles around your clit.

“Jesus,” he moans against your slick cunt, “Yer fuckin’ drippin’.”

Just a few seconds ago, he was begging to touch you and now you are the one whining at his words, begging him to give you what you need.

His tongue flattens over your folds and you moan softly.

The way he buries his head between your legs looks almost graceful from your point of view. He looks like he is praying, almost, your cunt the altar he worships at. It is wrong to think that way, sinful even and you know you’re going to hell for thinking about God in that context, but you’ve never been the religious kind anyway.

His moans reverberate. He parts your folds just to dip his tongue into your hole. You clench around him and he moans even more. It vibrates and sends shockwaves through your entire body. The pleasure he gives you is overwhelming and yet you need more. And he does so without asking.

His tongue grows rapid with its ministrations. He licks at your entrance before moving back to your clit, sucking it into his mouth. He memorized the motions that drive you crazy. It’s muscle memory.

You reach down to tangle your hand in his hair. Moans tumble from your lips like a symphony. “Mikey,” his name is only a whisper on your lips.

He lifts his head and looks up at you. “What?”

“You’re too good to me.”

He shudders at the subtle praise. “Let me make ya come, yeah?” And then he turns the tables with a simple comment, “You deserve it.”

“Oh, God–”

He dives back in, and he licks at your pussy with new vigor. He’s desperate, playing with your nerves like you’re a piano and he knows all the keys. Your moans and whimpers are the melodies, and they sound oh-so-sweet. You don’t care anymore about being vocal, and he seems to enjoy it.

“Good girl,” he growls. “So fuckin’ good–”

Your moan echoes through the apartment. “Mikey, please!”

“Yeah, that’s it. Yer so close, aren’t you?”

“So fuckin’s close,” you answer breathlessly.

You’re almost there. He drives you higher and higher and higher and–

With a loud cry of his name, your muscles contract, and the orgasm shatters your entire world. It’s intense; your toes curl and you almost lose balance. He holds you up, but you’re shaking like a leaf. Your thigh that’s on his shoulders tries to somehow connect with your other leg to trap him against your cunt, his tongue still relentless in eating up everything you give him.

Eventually, you push him away. “Too much,” you say.

He presses an almost tender kiss to the inside of your thigh before setting it back down. You quiver. Michael catches you with his arms around your waist. “You okay?” he asks.

You nod, holding onto him.

“Such a good girl.”

You meet his lips halfway, tasting yourself on his lips.

“I–” He cradles your cheek, but the words he planned to say die before he can utter them.

Your needy hands struggle with getting his belt open. “What?” you ask.

“Nothin’.” He helps you get the buckle open and pulls it out of his jeans before his lips are on yours again.

Michael encourages you to jump into his arms, and he lifts you almost effortlessly.

“Is this comfortable?” he asks.

Your heart swells. He doesn’t act like he’s about to fuck you against the wall; he’s caring, and you can’t help but get flustered.

“Yeah,” you breathe, “Just fuck me.”

He would never hesitate to comply with your request. You help him get his cock out of his pants. The position is a bit complicated, but you manage to wrap your hand around his shaft and line him up with your entrance. He sinks you down on him and you drop your head into the crook of his neck. “Fuck,” you moan. He feels too good to be true.

“Such a fuckin’ good girl,” he says as he starts thrusting up into you, “Take my cock.”

You cling to him as he sets a ruthless pace. It’s no less passionate than the first time, but his cock drives into you harder now. He hits that spot inside of you just right every time, and you can’t help but cry out in ecstasy. His lips part and he lets out a soft grunt.

He sounds so sweet when he moans. The sound alone makes you clench around his cock, causing him to twitch and change his angle to hit even deeper, and you completely lose it.

The sounds you let out are lewd, his name tumbling from your lips over and over again like a mantra. The feeling of him inside of you is now etched into your brain. You can’t live without it. You got a taste and now you’re addicted, and you get your fill every time he touches you.

His hand finds its way around your throat, not choking but simply holding you there. Your hand wraps around his wrist in return. You know exactly what you need.

“Choke me,” you say.

He lifts his head only momentarily. “What?” he stutters.

“Choke me.”

“Ya want me to choke ya, pet?”

“Yes.”

“Fuck!” He feels your pulse jump under his fingers when he finally squeezes, cutting off your air supply and pushing you straight to the precipice.

“You like that, huh?” He groans into your neck. “Ya like bein’ fucked like this? Chokin’ you, feelin’ my cock in your needy little cunt?”

Who would have thought that his mouth could get any dirtier?

Your pussy grips him like a vice and the moan you let out resembles a gurgled scream. The wall feels harsh against your back, sweat dripping down your body and making the dress you’re wearing stick to your body.

Michael sucks your bottom lip into his mouth. The kiss is sloppy; you wouldn’t call it a kiss but rather a desperate fight of lips and tongue, and you clash in the middle.

You can feel the knot in your stomach tighten. It spreads through your cunt, making you light-headed, and the finish line comes closer and closer and closer–

“Fuck, Mikey, I–” You clench around him once again. “I’m gonna come.”

His fingers dig into your ass cheeks as he lifts you a little higher, allowing your clit to bump against his lower abdomen with every rigorous thrust and you can’t hold it back anymore.

You come undone around his cock, and your heart jumps out of your chest.

He grunts, biting down on your shoulder. He’s close too, you can feel it in the way he’s holding onto you, and his cock twitches inside of you.

He moans your name when he comes, and it’s certainly something else to hear him say it like that, so beside himself and lost in pleasure.

“God,” he groans.

You couldn’t have said it better.

“Fuck,” you return.

“Pet, what are you doin’ to me?”

You’re not sure what he means by that.

“I’m fuckin’ addicted to ya.”

Oh.

“Sorry,” you murmur.

“No, don’t apologize. I just need to have ya, always, all the fuckin’ time.”

Michael gently sets you down. His cum trickles down your thighs. It’s a feeling of belonging to him that consumes you.

“You have me,” your voice is barely above a whisper.

“Yeah,” he smiles, “I do.”

You brush a loose strand of hair out of his face. “You wanna talk now?”

He shakes his head. You expected that. But then he opens his mouth anyway and his question catches you off guard. “Can I stay here?” he asks. “Just for a few days, I– I can’t stand bein’ at home. Alone. My head… it just won’t fuckin’ stop thinkin’.”

But it does with you.

“Will you tell me what happened?” you ask, your eyes holding an incredulous look.

“I– It’s not tha’ easy. I can’t just tell ya tha’.”

“You can try to explain it to me.”

“I get why ya don’t trust me in your home, but–”

“It’s not that I don’t trust you, I– I trust you, a lot, actually, but I’m… Yeah, I don’t know what I am.”

You pull away from him. He doesn’t like to admit it, but Michael is scared. Scared of losing you, scared of scaring you away; he doesn’t want to be someone you’re scared of, but you seem so damn uneasy.

He reaches out to grab your hand. You let him. With your back turned to him, you try to keep the tears at bay.

It’s too much, you realize, always caring for everyone but yourself, but letting him stay… it is less about him than it is about you. You’re weary. It’s not because of his past – you’re overwhelmed by the feelings you’re having, the changes in your life, and what it means for you.

You’re scared, but not of him. But how do you tell him that without giving yourself away? It’s stupid, but you have gotten used to keeping things to yourself.

You are the sunshine, the light in everyone’s lives and he needs that version of you, not the one that often gets overrun by darkness. You can’t help him when you’re like that, and you want to help him, you have to, you need to, it’s a natural response at this point. For that, you can’t let it get to you.

Though the truth and the anxiety that grips you remind you of the past. Perhaps that is the biggest reason you find yourself scared. But you’re not even sure anymore. You’re not sure of anything except that Michael belongs here; he belongs with you, in your arms because that is where he is safest.

You’re scared of losing him, too. The way he talked about his family and the past… You don’t want him getting dragged into it again, let alone lose him to a stupid mistake, maybe the bullets from a gun– You can’t allow yourself to think like that. Today has been a lot, but it’s not his fault.

You can’t lose another person you care about.

“Ya don’t have ta let me stay,” he says quietly. “I could check into a hotel for a night or two ta get away.”

With a soft shake of your head, you turn back around. “Can you be honest with me?” you ask him instead.

“Can you?” His brown eyes bore into yours.

You want to tell him that it’s not that easy, and that’s when you realize that it’s the same thing he said and you are no better than him when it comes to keeping your feelings to yourself.

Your voice breaks the tense silence, “Stay.”

He sucks in a sharp breath. “You mean it? I don’t wanna impose on your privacy if that’s wha’ ya need. I’m not that kind of person. I’ll live.”

How are you so alike and yet so different at the same time?

“Just stay,” you whisper, “with me. Here. For as long as you need to. It’s just… this is all new to me too, even if I don’t seem like it most of the time. I’m sorry I made you feel like I didn’t trust you. It wasn’t fair. Of course, I trust you, but there are things… I don’t usually share my space with anyone.”

He gets that.

“But I haven’t been fair this morning, and I am sorry for that. You didn’t do anything wrong, and you don’t have to prove yourself to me. This is on me.”

It’s as good as it gets. You don’t know what else to tell him.

Michael takes a step toward you. His hands find your face and he strokes his thumbs over your cheekbones. Your close your eyes, leaning into the touch.

He pulls you even closer, his breath hitting your forehead as his lips hover above it. He sighs, or maybe he’s smelling you, you’re not sure, but you can tell he’s fighting an internal battle that he hides behind a cage he doesn’t have the key for. The feelings. memories and thoughts come in, but nothing manages to come out. It’s tricky. You know what it feels like.

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” his voice cradles your fragile heart. “Yer too good fer me, love. Far too good.”

He leans down to press the softest kiss to your forehead.

Just minutes ago, you were fucking wildly against the wall, and now? Now he’s kissing your forehead and looking at you like you are the most precious thing he has ever seen, and the pain you felt before dissipates.

Your hands move to his biceps, resting there, stroking them through the fabric of his shirt. His muscles are tense, but his eyes are closed and as he holds you, he looks a little less like the kicked puppy who knocked on your door before shamelessly taking you in the only way he needed you then.

You sniffle. You don’t want to cry. “Let’s take a shower,” you say.

He wipes the stray tear from your cheek and nods. “Yeah, sounds grand.”

“And then you can stay.”

“Okay.” The light in his eyes tells you that he is grateful, and you are determined to keep that little flicker of hope alive.

And you truly mean it when you say it; you don’t mind having him around. It’s not just the pleasure. You are drawn to him even more than before.

But you are playing a dangerous game. There is a reason parents tell their children not to play with fire; they’re going to get burned.

Tagging: @bellaxgiornata @shouldbestudying41 @your-not-invisible-to-me @glowstick-lesbian @ms-murdockswift @acharliecoxedfan @loveroftoomanyfandoms @mattmurdocksscars @roseallisonparker @1988-fiend @norestfortheshelbywicked

#michael kinsella x reader #michael kinsella x you #michael kinsella #michael kinsella smut #michael kinsella angst #michael kinsella fluff #kin amc #charlie cox #x reader #reader insert #chaos theory #butterfly effect

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darkwitch1999 · 4 days

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@darkwitch1999, I got a question. It’s a little bit of Marinette salt, but what was Noelle and Devin’s worst experience with Marinette/Ladybug?

Well, @princessbutterflysposts. In an alternate reality where Marinette/Ladybug is an even worse bitch than Chloe, Lila, or even the Parisian Mean Girls quartet, I can imagine any one of these scenarios happening that would cause Noelle and Devin to hold a grudge.

Devin Nolan

During the first year of junior high, Marinette almost turned him into a social pariah just because he comes from a wealthy family and she saw him talking to Chloe ONE TIME! Apparently having money and telling Chloe to "fuck off" meant that he was another spoiled rich brat according to Marinette's perspective.

Fortunately, it didn't take long for Devin to convince everyone that he was nothing at all like Chloe. Though Marinette just switched tactics and used his cold, aloof personality as an excuse.

Ignores Devin's intense fear of being touched. She claims that Devin is just being "angsty" and "overdramatic" and doesn't take his phobia seriously.

Whenever Devin shoves her off or hits her whenever she touches him, she plays the victim card, making it seem as if Devin was a jerk despite her being the one clearly in the wrong.

Marinette mocked Devin's psychological fixation on being perfect when she found Devin having a panic attack in an isolated area of the school after he had gotten a 99% on a test. Didn't even stop to consider that as a red flag of psychological trauma/abuse. Again, claiming that he was being "overdramatic".

Ladybug tried to recruit him into becoming a superhero when someone he was close to got akumatized, but when Devin refused because he wasn't interested or comfortable with becoming a superhero, Ladybug had the audacity to call him "selfish".

Devin eventually gave in when Ladybug wouldn't stop pestering/gaslighting him for his help. Jokes on Ladybug, when Devin saw an opportunity to talk the akuma down, he de-transformed right in front of the akuma and revealed himself. He had to endure a harsh lecture from Ladybug about how what he did was "dangerous" and that she could never trust him with a miraculous again.

Devin wasn't even fazed by Ladybug's rant. The whole time she's lecturing him he is all like ("Yeah, don't ask me to do this shit again!").

Noelle Odeja

She's best friends with Lila....need I say more? Well, alright then.

Noelle played a horror-themed practical joke on Marinette on Halloween by putting fake dismembered body parts in her locker. Immediately, Marinette made it seem like she was being "victimized all over again" and compared the prank to the ones that Chloe and Kim played on her last year despite Noelle's joke being tame compared to what those two pulled.

Marinette's "Liars and Cheaters are losers" mentality has made her unsympathetic to Noelle's family problems. Thinking that Noelle's father is a horrible person for having an affair when she doesn't know how abusive Noelle's mother is towards her husband.

Every time Noelle brings up her parents arguing at home again, the first thing that comes out of Marinette's mouth is "What did your Dad do this time?".

The scar near Ronan's eye? "He probably deserved it!" Bitch, the woman blinded him just because he was defending his son from his transphobic mother!

Noelle wore a dress to school on the ONE day a year she wears a skirt or dress (Picture Day) and Marinette won't stop telling her how she looks "better" or "prettier" in dresses and that she should wear them all the time, ignoring the fact that Noelle expressed her distaste for wearing dresses and skirts.

Since Ronan and Gabriel Agreste are old friends and Ronan does photography work for him sometimes, Marinette is always trying to exploit this to her favor by trying to convince Noelle to help her with the "Adrinette" plans. ("Uh, hell no.")

Noelle's brother, Michael, offers free nail paintings to Noelle and her friends. Naturally, Marinette is not on the friends list and thus does not get the privilege of having awesome nail polish art done on her nails like everyone else.

In retaliation, Marinette called in a fake anonymous tip to the police that Michael was in possession of illegal drugs. No surprise that the police didn't find anything but because the studio that Michael worked at knows about his history of substance abuse, he had to pass a drug test to avoid getting fired.

Though Noelle couldn't prove it, something just kept nagging at her that Marinette was responsible for the bogus report.

Ronan had gotten akumatized after having a horrible fight with his wife. Noelle was present when her father got de-akumatized and she had to listen to Ladybug give her father a speech about "forgiveness" and that he should apologize to his wife. Noelle had to summon every ounce of restraint that she had to not punch Paris's "beloved superheroine" in public.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

If there was a cult club out there that was all about hating Marinette, I bet that these two would join in a heartbeat.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir #ao3 writer #original character #marinette salt #mlb marinette #mlb ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #worst experiences #ask answered #ask tumblr #ask anything #mlb ocs #miraculous headcanon #original male character #original female character

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papaver-decervicatus · 9 months

Note

go on bestie give us your roach headcanons 👀

Oh no!! I sort of don’t want to answer this now because I am manifesting that he’ll be in MWIII, but sure! I’ll give some! (Roach girlies rise up) These are just the silly ones, don’t take em too seriously. Enjoy beneath the read more! Continued from Simon's Page

Birthday, April 1st, 1993

MW REBOOT TIMELINE

Like I said, childhood friends with Simon “Ghost” Riley

Born and raised in Manchester. His father (Michael) is a union Steelworker who often took Roach to work with him. His mother (Sapphire) is a teacher at a school for the deaf.

His parents met at the secondary school for the deaf that Sapphire now works at. Michael lost his hearing due to a congenital condition fully around the age of 10, he was born in the US but moved to Manchester at 12. Sapphire (her real name is Busarakam, but she went by Sapphire once she moved to the UK) was born deaf in Thailand and immigrated with her family to Manchester when she was around High School age.

High school sweethearts, fell in love and never fell out of it.

Roach is an only child.

His parents adored Simon and Tommy. Considered them their own. Sapphire in particular showed her love for the two by frequently sending them home with “extra” food.

Gary Sanderson is an American name, if not THE American name. It is the equivalent of an American Writer naming a Japanese School Girl "Sakura Kokoro." His dad has to be from the USA.

Michael Sanderson was from the Appalachian region of the USA, so Gary grew up very superstitious.

Don’t whistle in the dark

Wear your coat backward if you think something is following you in the woods.

Sasquatch is real. That’s just a fact. If you see one, no you didn’t. Fuck off and run.

The hills have eyes.

The trees have eyes.

The water has ears.

It is out to get you.

What is it?

Doesn’t matter.

It’s out for you, boy.

Never play with fortune telling in any form or fashion.

Go the opposite way of where a black cat has crossed you.

Don't accept fiddling duels from strangers.

Throw salt over your shoulder when you spill it.

Don’t trust the government when they tell you you don’t need a union.

Don't wash clothes on a Sunday.

You know. The usual.

Simon spent about half his life with the Sandersons during summers and breaks. Became fluent in BSL as a result.

Gary is much more slender (but still built) than Simon but he is half an inch taller and uses every opportunity available to remind Simon of that fact.

Before joining the Army or SAS Gary had a shitton of scars from being the least coordinated skateboarder ever.

Once had to go to the hospital because he stabbed himself with a flip knife he had in his belt when he fell off his board while going 35 mph down a hill.

Simon voice “What the fuck, Gary?”

His biggest hobby growing up was collecting obsolete music media and tinkering.

Prized possession is a portable FM/AM radio with a built-in cassette player that he found in the garbage and fixed himself.

His favorite cassette was Nevermind the Bollocks, Here’s the Sex Pistols by the Sex Pistols. It was a last-minute birthday gift from Simon because he forgot Roach’s birthday when they were 13. Simon stole it from his dad.

Extensive record, CD, cassette collection that was entirely unsupervised and unchecked. Was definitely listening to shit he should not have been as a kid.

RTO for the SAS

Natural talent for mechanical engineering, give him a blueprint and 15 minutes and he could fix nearly anything.

On his 20th birthday (Also, April Fool's Day) he managed to play Barbie Girl by Aqua on 6 speakers on base at exactly 04:20.

No one knows how he did it, and no one knows it was him except Simon and two other corporals from their squad.

Simon voice "What the fuck, Gary."

Taught Simon how to drive.

Should not have taught Simon how to drive.

Simon would have been better off learning how to drive from literal Roadkill than Gary Roach “Fuck it we Ball” Sanderson.

Energetic-thrill-seeker, could not sit still to save his life. Always doing something.

Narrowly avoided arrest as a teen after sending a lit shopping cart (yes. On fire. Don’t ask how he set the metal on fire in the first place, a true artist never tells their secrets,) down a residential street.

Simon played interference and deliberately pointed the cops in the wrong direction.

He didn’t know that Gary was the one who set it on fire because he didn’t see him do it, but like. The first thing he thought when he saw it was “What the fuck, Gary.”

He was, of course, correct.

Has a habit of sleeping under beds? Always took the bottom bunk.

Can sleep through anything. Slept through a helicopter crash. How? Don’t ask, not even Roach knows.

He grew up sleeping underneath Simon’s bed when he would stay over and when they got to the service it was not unusual for a commanding officer to send Simon to go fetch Gary for morning warm-ups.

Used to go to goth bars with Simon to keep the carnage of a hot headed Simon to a minimum.

Never considered himself goth, but he was attached to Simon at the hip so of course they’d go together.

They’d sneak in by bribing bouncers with cigarettes or just plain old-fashioned going through the bathroom windows on the occasion that cheap bribery didn’t work.

Once, Simon was getting pummeled because he didn’t know what lace code was and found out the hard way when he wore white laces with black docs (a massive mistake, especially for a pasty dude with a blond buzz cut) and Gary intercepted the fight and had three beer bottles smashed on his head and didn’t bat an eye.

Hard headed. Literally.

They never went back to that bar, but Simon did learn from his mistake and changed his laces back to black.

It was an honest to goodness mistake, but Simon did mope about it for a while.

Rock paper scissors champion. Anytime, anywhere, best two out of three, he always wins. When asked, he says he learned how to always read his opponent by practicing playing by himself. This usually leads to more questions than answers, but its the only answer Gary's got.

Got addicted to cigarettes after Simon started smoking them at 14 to prove he was “a real man” to his father. Gary, never one to leave a friend alone, also started smoking.

His favorite party trick in the SAS was to eat lit cigarettes for cash.

Once again, often behavior that CO’s left Simon Ghost “What the fuck, Gary” Riley to deal with.

Is similar to Gaz in the way that he’s absolutely a practical joker with a surprisingly strong moral compass.

He’s deceptively airheaded, he overhears a ton of shit because people figure that he simply won’t tell, but oh. He will.

Gary and Gaz met briefly after Roach’s retirement, the two are affectionately referred to as “Singles” and “Doubles” by Price and Simon for the numbers of ‘R’s in Gary and Garrick.

Surprisingly emotionally intelligent, good-natured dude. Wishes nobody harm, goes along to get along, friendly and all around decent.

Florida man but Bri’ish.

The army bloke of all time. Stupid, broke, loyal, and physically strong.

I love him.

With all my heart.

Thank you for coming to my tedtalk.

#navigation -> headcanon tag #cod mwii #gary roach sanderson #roach cod #gary roach sanderson COD #simon ghost riley #cod mw2 #ghost mwii

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away-ward · 3 months

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Just out of curiosity: If Rika, Banks, Winter or Emory were to die, what would Michael, Kai, Damon and Will's reaction be?

Ohhh interesting question.

Well, if there was anything suspicious about their deaths, revenge is their go-to in times like this. None of them have problems with a little murder if it means taking what’s owed.

However, if we’re talking like an accident or an illness, that would be different.

Emory’s death would hit Will hard. I’m thinking deep depression, the kind that stops you from living. He’d struggle to get out of bed or even take care of himself. Either his family or one of the Horsemen would have to take the kids in, because Will wouldn’t be able to take care of them. I also think they would worry about Will slipping back into old habits. So, while one of the families takes the kids, another is tasked with keeping an eye on him, making sure he doesn’t pick up drinking again. It might take him a long time to come back around. Months, to even a year, but I think eventually he’d find a way to keep moving forward, to take care of the family they created, and to treat her memory with respect.

He would never remarry, but he would carry on casual relationships. Not with anyone his kids would know, however. That stays separate; there would be no crossover, and no one get would the wrong idea. His kids would never think their mother is going to be replaced, and the women never think they will be anything more in his life.

(pd would probably have him remarried within 10-15 years; the kids would be old enough to understand. Similar to whatever happened with his uncle and rika’s mom, but I choose to believe Will would never love again.)

If something happened to Winter, the biggest issue would be getting Damon to open up again – and by that, I mean his doors. I think he’d lock himself and his kids away, too pissed off with the world to deal with it, and not trusting anyone enough to take care of his children the way he can. He’d become bitter and possibly mean(-er) and nothing could change that. Damon would absolutely never find love again. He wouldn’t even consider it. I also think he'd put Winter’s grave in a place where he could see it regularly? I don't know - he's screaming: old cranky man behind the gate that all the kids start rumors about.

Kai would be angry at the injustice of losing Banks, but would solider on for his kids. He’d rely heavily on his parents for moral support, and I can see him being distant from his friends for the first year or so, but eventually coming back to the world, all evidence of heartbreak locked away. I also think he’d become even colder, more stone-faced and harder to know, like how he was in Corrupt before Banks came back onto the scene. Similar to Will, he would find companions, but similar to how he was in his youth, no one would ever know. Kai likes his secrets. I can see him finding a more permanent partner in his old age to appease his mom and dad, who worry about who will take care of him when they’re gone. However, this would be more out of obligation than actual desire. Whoever filled the role would understand that they would never replace Banks in his heart. Still, I think their friendship would be strong.

Edit: I thought about it and I want to clarify. Kai would never go remarry. That was a special bond between him and his Nik, and he'd never overwrite that. However, to appease his parents he might find a life partner. They just never marry.

Michael would spend a few months in mourning, but otherwise wouldn’t miss a step. This isn’t a lack of love and devotion on his part, but a fear of letting the world see any weakness in him. He’d be the quickest to pick up and carry on, leaving his tears for a time when he is alone. I do think he’d eventually find another, one he might even care for deeply, but he might struggle with feeling conflicted about marrying again. Rika was his only one, but he can't be alone again. He doesn't have the same family to rely on since being on bad terms with his father, and seeing his friends happy with their wives would be difficult. Whoever found themselves in his life, he would definitely be settling and they would know.

Overall, I think all four men would be counting down the days until they could rest. They all have responsibilities they know they have to attend to, ones their wives would want them to finish. After that, when their role is done, they’d be happy to follow them into whatever afterlife they pictured for themselves, if they pictured one. Either way, the years without their love would be a burden that rested heavily on their hearts until they can be done with it. This doesn't mean like taking their own life, but more of a looking forward to death instead of fearing it, because it means the time without their person is over.

I hope that answered your question. HCs are weird. Does anyone have any other thoughts?

#asked and answered 233 #asked and answered #devil's night series stuff #the horsemen of devil's night #the women of devil's night #michael crist #kai mori #damon torrance #will grayson iii #character discussion #ko's hc tag

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those70scomics · 8 months

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“ (okay, I could probably write a full meta on her relationship with Casey, so I’ll stop here for now).”

I would love to see that meta! I personally don’t like that dynamic and the power imbalance (Casey being 21 and Donna 17).

On the show, Donna uses her relationship with Casey as a coping mechanism for her grief about her mom and Eric. One moment (before "The Promise Ring"), the aspects that make up her reality / life are consistent abd reliable. Then they're irrevocably changed. She doesn't know how to adjust. Her father is a mess himself, and Eric's insecurity deprives her of Mrs. Forman's much-needed support.

Jackie is Donna's only constant support, but she's the Jackie who hasn't yet learned to live fully (or a touch less than fully) in reality but fantasy. Donna goes down the same path with Casey that Jackie does with Kelso, imagining her boyfriend to be someone he isn't and easily dismisses obvious red flags.

Casey goes out of town a lot, and from Michael Kelso's warning to Eric -- added to Casey's other behavior -- one can reasonably suspect Casey of not being faithful to Donna. "They're just words," he says to Eric of, "I love you." But Donna believes Casey when he says them because she needs to.

Because of Donna's lack of healthy, consistent emotional support during season four -- with rare exceptions from Hyde, Kitty, and Eric himself -- she's terrified and reacting to her feelings instead of truly facing them. She convinces herself that Casey is the solution to her pain and clings to her false belief for dear life.

Donna, when not in such pain, would take Casey's words about coping at face value (e.g., "Crack open another beer") instead of giving them a deeper meaning they don't have. She'd call out Casey's flakiness and stick to it rather than accept his explanation that being unreliable is just the way he is. She never would've let Eric get away with such disrespectful nonsense.

The relationship with Casey, and filling her mind with him when he's not around, allows Donna to avoid her feelings. Casey also enables avoidance behaviors when he is present, and she takes on his bullying, hostile nature as another avoidance tactic. She's psychologically malicious to Eric, thankless and snappish to Hyde, and giddily agrees with Casey's sexually-violating advice to Fez about Rhonda. She skips school and gets drunk in the morning with Casey, which falls in line with her self-destructiveness when she needs help and doesn't know how else to get it.

Donna is not mentally well at this point in her life, and she very much needed her dad to step-up. He fails her because he doesn't have good coping skills himself. But he's still responsible for the well-being of his child. She's seventeen, and while that's older than seven, teenagers still need guidance and support.

If Eric had been less selfish, insecure, and perhaps spiteful, he might have "allowed" his mom to be that healthy support for Donna. It's of course tricky since he's hurting, too. But Donna didn't only lose her boyfriend/best friend, she also -- in a very real sense -- lost her mother and father.

As for the age difference, that's part and parcel of Casey's indifference to people who aren't himself. He doesn't consider what might or might not be a healthy relationship dynamic. He enjoys using Donna for company, for fooling around, for messing with Eric. He's an even more malicious, selfish narcissist than his brother Michael. He's essentially Michael without the tiny spark of decency and self-awareness Michael has.

Casey also doesn't seem to get emotionally attached to people. Michael does, and that's where his sense of entitlement comes in. He wants Jackie and Hyde to hurt because he feels hurt by them. Casey, however, doesn't get hurt because he doesn't care. He might be sociopathic. He certainly knows how to pour on the charm to gets what he wants from people, and being malicious to others brings him joy.

Donna is at the height of vulnerability when Jackie sets her up with Casey, and Casey recognizes an easy mark when he sees one.

#that 70s show #eric forman #donna pinciotti #eric x donna #that '70s show #casey kelso #ask #hydesjackiespuddinpop #meta #essay #my essay #my meta

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kinnenvy · 8 months

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i am having thoughts about brian and his parents (jack joan debbie). it's messy and chaotic but i need to take it out of my brain and put it somewhere

Jack and Joan

There's like a pattern that he must go through with his birth parents, especially in season 1 it feels as if brian likes to present his relationship with his parents in one way, when it's actually very different.

He feels troubled by his own fatherhood, by Justin's relationship with his dad and the first thing he does is search for his own dad. he tells justin he never sees him, but then at the end of ep 1x09 michael talks about brian's visit and heartbreak over jack like it's something that happens routinely (and it does for sure, considering that it seems like jack is depending on him for money). "When will you ever learn?" NEVER! HE WILL NEVER LEARN!

until s2 ig. to me his relationship with joan is the most puzzling. he visits her, brings her flowers, but it doesn't feel like he ever tries to indulge her in the same way he did with jack. i wonder if that's because he didn't grow up being scared of her, so there's no instinct to get into her good graces...? im not qualified for this kind of analysis i dont think

they've both surely put him under intense distress, in different ways maybe, but it's distress nonetheless. living in that house must have been like being taken apart constantly, nowhere to hide, no comfort, only pain.

im not sure what the timeline is, but it's possible that the first time brian felt loved and wanted must have been THAT DAY in the showers after school. it could be also why he has that twisted perception of what happened. (or maybe it's just early 2000s writing who knows)

Debbie

she honestly makes me kinda mad. she saw a 14 y/o break in her liquor cabinet, get drunk and thought "this kid's kinda troublesome idk :/". i think making big speeches and saying pretty words she doesn't fully understand is very much part of her character (ben), but the way she does it with brian in relation to his parents is horrible to me.

(surely without knowing) she uses Brian's need for approval from his parents and convinces him to come out to his dad, what does that achieve? brian has to hear his father tell him he should die. brian has an important, vulnerable moment with her after his diagnosis and she shares it with joan without him asking or even wanting her to. what does that achieve? we remember what it achieves.

I think it's fair that she thinks about michael first and then everyone else, but i feel like she's softer on everyone else (david????) compared to brian. sure he kept their relationship vague enough to make him believe they could become a couple, but he isn't doing it to have a laugh, they're codependent. when brian is forced to break it off by debbie, she's happy to let brian take the fall on his own. she understands what he did, so instead of maybe idk helping him get at least Lindsay's support, she keeps her mouth shut, calls brian a good kid, gives him a pat on the back and is ready to send him his own way.

which brings me to the way she acts like she understands brian. it feels like the writers are telling us she understands him, but does she? idk. she picks up on things he does in secret one moment and then gets him totally wrong the next. she calls him a selfish asshole in front of everyone, but when it's just the two of them she suddenly has always known he's a good person. why is she never saying good things about him when everyone's around? why does it have to be just the two of them?

"Brian would hate it" "Brian would cringe himself to another planet" Sure but maybe Brian would also get home and maybe for once feel like the adult he imprinted on approves of him with no compromises :// idk

#brian kinney #qaf #my babygirlest #queer as folk #meta #it's a rant folks #there's more ive forgotten for sure #also jennifer

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the-ferocious-kittyrose · 8 months

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On a scale from 1 to 10 how messed up is your version of Michael? (How much stuff he is post scoop or if scoop doesn't happen how messed up he is mental)

Poor thing is a definite 10

TW: brief mention of self harm

He doesn’t get scooped in my AU, but he’s got the trauma to make up for it.

William spoiled him with toys and video games, but he totally missed the memo that parents are supposed to spend time with their kids.

He was also harsh and had stupidly high expectations. Mike could build the parthenon, and William would find something wrong with it.

But he never considered it abuse, and it took him a long time to accept that it was. He had friends who’s fathers would beat them black and blue, William never did that.

His mom left when he was eight. She was young and never really wanted kids, but William insisted that it was just what they were supposed to do. She loved her sons, but she wasn’t happy being a mom. She was addicted to Valium pills and one day just up and left with a man she had an affair with, leaving little Mike sobbing in the drive way.

She tried to write letters to Mike and Evan, but William always intercepted them before the boys could see them, leaving Mike to believe his mom had truly abandoned him.

Mike loved Evan. He teared up when baby Evan first squeezed his finger in his little baby fist. But things soured as they got older. Mike was jealous of Evan, and angry at the world. But he never meant for it to end the way it did.

He fell into a severe depression after Evan’s death. He wasn’t even allowed to go to the funeral. He couldn’t eat or sleep as the guilt ate away at him. He took to cutting himself. Partly as a form of self punishment, and partly just to feel something.

William couldn’t even stand to look at him. His abuse became worse and worse, and Mike couldn’t even be mad because he felt like he deserved it.

He watched from afar as William slowly lost his mind.

He snuck into William’s basement office once and was nauseous at the sight of the broken bloody Fredbear animatronic wrapped in Evan’s blanket and surrounded by toys and rotting cake. William found him, and it was the first time he ever beat him.

When the missing children incident happened, Mike didn’t know what to think. Half of him couldn’t believe it. Sure his dad was creepy, and he’d hurt him, but he had a reason to hurt him, he didn’t have a reason to hurt innocent kids. The other half of him accepted the truth. His father was a monster.

The time William was taken into police custody was the most stressful time of his life.

Eventually William was released due to insufficient evidence, he came home acting chipper like nothing was wrong and even looking at him made Mike sick to his stomach.

One day, Henry was at the house for dinner, and Mike found the courage to call William out on his phony behavior directly. Something in William snapped. He grabbed a knife and started chasing Mike, swinging the knife like a mad man, screaming that he wanted him dead. Mike ran outside while Henry wrestled the knife away from William.

Henry brought Mike back to his house and tried to comfort him as he sobbed, “he tried to kill me. Why’d he try to kill me?”

William showed up a few hours later, demanding to have Mike back. Mike listened to William and Henry screaming at each other as he hid in the bathroom, quietly sobbing and trembling.

They found Charlie’s body the next morning, and William went missing. Mike blamed himself, and he believed Henry must too.

He had gotten back into contact with his mother during the time William was in custody. It was awkward. He was relieved she had actually tried to contact him, but he was still mad at her for leaving, and after years apart, things just weren’t the same.

But she did offer to let him stay with her, and since he felt like a burden to Henry, he accepted.

Henry took his own life shortly after Mike left. Once again,he blamed himself.

For years afterwards, he tried hiding from everything. Desperately avoiding all the news stations and true crime “detectives” that wanted to interview him. He was done with Freddy’s, but Freddy’s wasn’t done with him.

“ITS ME”

“SAVE THEM”

He had consistent nightmares and “hallucinations” of the animatronics. The thought he was going crazy, but it felt way too real to all be in his head.

He moved back to Hurricane, applied for the night guard position under a fake name, and witnessed the haunted Animatronics first hand.

The pizzeria shuts down soon after, due to a lack of business and a strong stench of rot. The building was barricaded and the animatronics were dismantled.

He eventually reached out to the families of the missing children, telling them that the ghost stories were true and explaining what he saw. They deserved to know the truth, right?

Most of them wanted absolutely nothing to do whith him, which he understood. But a few, more open minded people seemed interested. Older siblings of the kids who had died. Some didn’t actually believe him and wanted proof he wasn’t bullshitting, others were just desperate for answers and closure. They agreed to meet at the shut down restaurant.

It was immediately more dangerous than Michael thought it would be, because the animatronics seemed to have reassembled themselves. He wanted everyone to get the hell out, but now that they knew Mike was telling the truth, they needed to investigate and find out what really happened.

While snooping around they found a sealed off room that reeked of death. They opened it and unknowingly freed stringtrap, the killer, William Afton.

But he wasn’t William Afton anymore. Years of tortuous pain, starvation, and isolation, had reduced him to a feral zombi like creature. Michael doesn’t know which is worse.

Springtrap attacked the group and every time Michael would throw himself in front of them and try to sacrifice himself for the others. He wasn’t always successful in helping them, as one of the group got his arm torn of and eaten by springtrap.

Eventually the group decided “fuck this place,” and started a fire to destroy it for good. The escaped just intime to watch the building be engulfed with flame, with springtrap inside.

Killing his father didn’t bring him joy or anguish or anything that he had expected. He didn’t really feel anything.

Mike grew close to the group, especially Danny, the foster sister of Cassidy. She was very iffy about him at first obviously, they all were, but she knew that none of what happened was actually his fault. She admitted to Mike that when she first started to warm up to him, she felt like she was betraying Cassidy, but after seeing how selfless and brave he could be, she thinks that Cassidy would’ve liked him.

Over time, the two of them developed a romantic relationship, and decide to fuck off to the other side of the country. They didn’t want anything to do with Freddie’s ever again.

They had a son named Evan (Gregory), and around the time he was 4-5, Freddy’s started, unfortunately, making a comeback. Evan asked if he could go, but his parents vehemently refused. They were a bit overprotective but they were also right.

One day Evan goes to Freddy’s without his parents’ knowledge and becomes the target for a William Afton copy cat killer. He escapes unharmed but it was still massively traumatizing, for him and his parents.

In the end, Michael is trying to move on and recover, and in some ways he has. He’s much happier as an adult than he ever was as a kid/teen. But the past keeps popping up again and again, threatening to destroy the new life he’s built.

#this is way too long #sorry about that lol #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #michael afton #william afton

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tsarisfanfiction · 9 days

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The View

Fandom: Trials of Apollo Rating: Gen Genre: Family/Angst Characters: Will, Apollo Rachel's room had a wonderful view over the East River. Unfortunately, that included a certain bridge. TOApril day 19 - Haunted. This one is a case of me looking at a map, doing some mental gymnastics with what we know of the location of Brooklyn House and Rachel's house, and realising that when Will looked out of Rachel's window, he would've been able to see the Williamsburg Bridge. Cue, well. This.

Will didn’t notice it, to start with. Even with his dad standing behind him, the lure of sunlight was strong – so sue him, he enjoyed soaking up the sunlight, even if it wasn’t his dad’s because his dad was currently mortal, and even if he didn’t, he wasn’t stupid. Nico wanted to go down to the Trogs and the prophecy all but said they were going to do that, and they were going to need light.

Will wasn’t looking forwards to glowing in front of his dad in a pale imitation of what Apollo could do himself (or in a reminder of what Apollo currently couldn’t do himself), but he knew that if Nico got his way, Will was going to end up doing exactly that, and Will hadn’t yet worked out if there was a correlation between his glowing and his preference for sun lounging, but he wasn’t going to risk that there was one and he might run out of light in the dark if he didn’t get enough sun first.

That wasn’t to say the view out of Rachel’s window wasn’t impressive in its own right, either. The river lazily wound its way between them, in Brooklyn, and Manhattan. In the distance, the Empire State Building – Olympus – loomed amongst the other high-rise buildings that made up New York’s best-known island.

Will hadn’t been into Manhattan since The War. When he had left camp, barring his shadow travel adventures with Nico it had always been to visit the fringes of New York, and he hadn’t done that often, either. Camp was comfortable, mostly safe (but not entirely, Will would never be able to forget the times it wasn’t, when people got hurt or died), and was far better suited to his needs than the mortal world.

It didn’t take much effort to look away from the tall, historic building that formed their access to Olympus; its king had cast out his father, and the last time Will had been there, it had been filled with destruction, rubble, and dead and dying bodies. He was on a quest right now, and Olympus had nothing to do with it.

His eyes wandered instead to the river, water green and dirty looking. Whatever Percy had done nearly two years ago to clean them up hadn’t lasted. Of course it hadn’t, this was New York. Rachel’s bedroom window had a wonderful view of it, though, and even the green and murky water didn’t look horrendous while the sunlight glinted off of it, giving the colour some depth.

Then he saw the bridge.

He didn’t recognise it, to start with. Not from this angle, not in the bright sunshine. He might not have realised it at all if not for the scaffolding and cranes still perched on it despite the fact it looked intact again. Signals that the bridge had been broken, might be passable by traffic again but was still in need of a few more repairs before it was considered whole again.

Williamsburg Bridge.

Will dragged his eyes away from it immediately, because they were on a quest, his dad had enough to worry about without Will going into a panic over a bridge of all things. Camp was in danger, New York was in danger, Apollo was in danger, and now was not the time to let things get to him when they weren’t even related.

His heart thudded loudly in his ears, his chest felt tight, but not today. Will couldn’t break down now, not today. Not until this was all over.

It didn’t escape his notice that it was the same as back then, when Michael fell, when his siblings were blown off and he didn’t know who was alive and who was dead but Percy grabbed him because they did know that Annabeth was dying and Will was her only chance at survival. When Will had to shove down his own disbelief, grief, fear, anger- everything except hope and determination.

He’d have his breakdown later, and Will knew it wasn’t healthy to bottle everything up but needs must, his older siblings had never let breakdowns happen when they were needed and he wasn’t about to let Lee, Michael, or the others down by breaking when he was needed, either.

He turned his face towards the sun, again, let the warmth bathe his face, calm his heart, release his chest. It didn’t seem to matter that Apollo wasn’t behind the reins of the chariot, because the trick still worked as well as it had done in Manhattan, against Gaia, when a half-dead mortal Apollo had collapsed into camp.

That was another thing Will hated, that the sun didn’t seem to change when Apollo wasn’t there, even though it felt that it ought to, while it was without a god, but that was one more thing on the list of things to be repressed and ignored until later, when Apollo was a god again and everything was right with the world.

When Nico would drag him off, away from everyone else, and insist he break, because Nico understood why Will pushed it all down, but still hated it, and wouldn’t let it go on for any longer than it had to.

With everyone distracted behind him – someone was rummaging around noisily with tin cans, and he bet that was Meg, while Rachel talked prophecy paintings with Nico and his dad – he had the luxury of time, a few heartbeats to get himself under control unobserved, and he took them, closing his eyes to feel warmth permeate through his being until it thrummed beneath his skin, a hollow comfort that he wouldn’t be failing them any time soon. His light would not falter when Nico called for it.

Seven seconds. He gave himself seven seconds, then opened his eyes again, carefully not letting his vision focus on the Empire State Building or the bridge. Instead, it caught on the large trailers sat outside Rachel’s house, where various noses protruded from the side.

Huh, Rachel had mentioned cows.

Behind him, he heard Rachel quip at Nico about his aesthetic, and decided that was as good a time as any to rejoin the conversation before his boyfriend started to get snarky at their best source of information. It wasn’t that the two of them didn’t get on, they did, but…

He rapped his knuckles against the glass. “Are those the cattle?”

#trials of apollo #trials of apollo fanfiction #riordanverse #riordanverse fanfiction #toapril #toapril 2024 #tsari writes fanfiction #will solace #pjo apollo #michael yew #rachel elizabeth dare #nico di angelo #meg mccaffrey

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