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dcxdpdabbles · 10 months

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DCXDP FIC IDEA: The Dauntless Matchmaker

Danny Fenton is short on cash. He has been short on cash almost all his adult life, but usually, he can pull through untill the last minute before breaking and asking his family for help.

It's a pain in a half trying to find a job that is flexible enough to accommodate his "Health" issues.

He needs time off to keep his agreement. See back when he was sixteen, he realized that the ghosts that had been bothering him were all trying to challenge him for his power.

At first he looked like easy prey- being new and all- but the more fights he won the more his reputation rose and that made the ghosts attack less frequently.

They just became harder since the big guns wanted a crack at him. Danny proposed that the fights be in neutral grounds- the ghost zone- since fights in Amity Park were ruining his haunt.

Haunt Rights were highly protected and respected in the Infinite Releams.

His adversaries agreed under the condition that Danny responded to the battles within two hours; otherwise, they would haunt him in the human world.

Ghost fighting in the Infinite Releams to keep the ghosts busy, and nowadays, only the strongest bothered him like a bi-weekly challenge from dead beings that don't understand scheduling.

It worked out.....until he couldn't explain why he was missing so often in the human world. With the help of some friendly ghosts, he was able to fake a diagnosis of some muscle disorder and has been living with the excuse that he would go MIA because of it. He missed a lot.

Often enough to have almost every job he's gotten to fire him.

This brings him to his current problem. Yes, Danny can argue that he has a disability but to do so would mean having someone look into it and realize it's not real.

So when Charlie from the Tea MadHouse tells him not to bother returning tomorrow after a four-day-long battle, he can only sigh and turn in his tea maker apron.

He might have to call his parents to ask for help on this month's rent. That's a bitter pill to swallow.

If only there was a job that he could do that had no problem with him taking multiple days off without notice.

"Pardon me. I need a moment of your time." a voice calls out. Danny twists around, turning his neck slightly downwards to meet the green-eyed stare of a young boy.

"I have a proposition for you. My elder brother requires a fake lover to fool our family butler into thinking that he has moved on from the heartbreak of his last disastrous relationship. Not that anyone could blame Dowd for ending things with Drake. In any case, seeing as I have witnessed your unemployment, I figured you would do well for the job."

Danny blinks "I'm sorry?"

The kid pulls out a wad of cash. Danny can practically hear the ca-ching sound surrounding the boy as he raises a brow.

He gapes as the youth slaps the cash into his hand without so much as a blink.

"Do we have an accord?" The boy asks while Danny slowly turns the money in his hand.

"Whatever you say, temporary in-law," He says after flipping through the bills only to realize it's a hundred-dollars. A quick count of how many he's been handed causes his eyes to almost pop out of thier socket.

It's more then enough for this month's rent-hell he has some left over for at least four months!

"Excellent, we are expected at dinner. If Drake acts surprised to see you merely tap the table six times, then four. He shall fall into line and build off our lie."

Danny scrambles after the kid, nodding to himself. "Six, then four. Got it. Ugh, does the dinner have a dress code?"

It sounds like it would since a young boy just gave out hundreds like it was nothing. Danny would feel bad showing up in an old pair of jeans and a faded t-shirt.

Maybe he has a formal shirt somewhere.

The boy's green eyes flickered to him, then his watch on his wrist. "An impressive observation. Pennyworth will not be impressed by a poorly dressed paramour. We have time to purchase a suit. Come along."

Danny has no idea how someone so small can walk so fast. He feels his breathing is coming in quick bursts, but the boy doesn't seem winded at all. He winces when the boy enters a well-known suit place that is very pricey. "Is this coming out of my pay?"

"No. This shall be covered by the company card," The strange child says, holding up a black card with a quick flick of his wrist. At the sight of it, two store attendants appear at their side, offering assistance. Danny has never seen such power.

"W-wait we have a company card?" He shutters, overwhelmed by the attendant pushing him into a changing room and a light blue suit in his arms.

"Yes. However, you have a limit on what can be spent with it. I shall review the details later regarding your medical, dental, and vision benefits."

"I GET DENTAL?!"

"Of course. America's ridiculous health programs will mistreat no employee of mine simply due to lack of funds. " The boy scoffed, sounding offended by the very idea.

Danny doesn't care how long he needs to pretend to be this boy's boyfriend, and he'll sign a contract right now.

_______________________________________

Damian waited for Fenton to finish trying on all the suits the personal sellers had pushed onto him. He personally thinks the light blue was the best but it doesn't hurt to try other options.

They need Fenton to look his best to woo Drake and get him to stop acting so pathetic.

Yes, Dowd had broken up with him for reasons Damian is unaware of, nor does he care enough to find them, but Drake has had plenty of people break up with him before and remain on good terms with him.

Just look at Brown.

Drake had also always bounced right back after the breakup, usually because he would get tied up in either work at Wayne Industries or Red Robin.

Yet, for some reason, unlike all the others, Dowd leaving has not only been messy it also threw Drake into a downwards spiral.

He has refused even to get dress- walking around in a bathrobe and fluffy slippers- eating ice cream and sobbing over photos of Dowd for hours on end. He taken a leave from Wayne Industries and mostly stayed on monitor duty as Red Robin.

At other times, he plays sad songs and watches romance movies with a dead look in his eyes. Usually there were crumbs of some unknown spicy chips all over his face too.

Really it was unseemly.

It's been four months of this, and Drake does not seem to be getting it together. Damian had researched online, and all of the articles indicate that he should have felt better by the third-month mark.

He would have left the fool well alone only Pennyworth is beginning to worry. And Damian refuses to let Pennyworth worry over something fixable.

His research showed that a "rebound" was highly recommended (if done correctly), in the healing process of a breakup. Drake refused to find one, so Damian assigned himself the task of finding one for him instead.

He considered Drake's past lovers' looks, interests, and personalities. Then creating a list of what was considered a good candidate he wandered around Gotham in search of someone who would be a perfect rebound.

His efforts led him to Tea MadHouse- a tea shop with a surprisingly good coffee menu- where Daniel Fenton worked. Over three weeks, Damian had watched him, categorizing the pros and cons that Drake would find within Fenton, and concluded that he would be perfect.

The fact Fenton has lost his job now only worked in his favor. He'll convince Drake that Fenton is a decoy for Pennyworth - since Drake was getting fed up with all the hovering- and he would never notice that the real target of this fake relationship would be Drake himself all along.

Fenton will woo him, sweep him off his feet, make him forget Dowd and ride off into the sunset with Drake none the wiser. It was full-proof.

Damian will make Drake rebound on Fenton, even if he has to throw the idiot at the other teen. He is getting awful tired of the concerned glances whenever Drake slumps his way into a room.

No other reason. He certainly didn't care about Drake that much nor did does he lay awake at night wondering how Drake is doing now that he does not have someone to hold him.

Drake doesn't sleep well alone.

"How do I look?" Fenton stepped out of the booth wearing the light blue suit. It made his eyes pop and framed his body well.

Yes, muscular. The body of a boxer. Drake will lose his mind over those biceps.

"Ravishing." He tells the nineteen-year-old. Damian barely bites back a smirk as Fenton flushed, painting a pretty picture. Drake enjoys talking his lovers up, and Fenton will do well to receive plenty of compliments. "Let us be off."

Drake won't know what hit him.

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #dead tired #The Dauntless Matchmaker #Damian Wayne really said if you want something done right do it your self #Danny went along cause Damian has that much of a commanding presence #hes also poor and needs the job #Tim is in the trenches from Bernard leaving him

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pochiyaki · 1 year

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Hey I’m Pochi, a Pan/Non-Binary Disabled artist with BPD. I am re posting this because some life things changed for the worse again. So i’m still in the same boat as I was in May 2022, unemployed. I’ve had a lot happen. My ACL was torn on a plane which will require surgery, which my doctor has now forbid me to work on till I have said surgery. Plus the ceiling in one of the bedrooms caved in. I’ve asked for it on twitter but i’ve been afraid to on here. This is a Approx. of what I’ll need just to survive

Electric (Weekly): $300.00 (The electric got raised and it’s been about $60 a day i’m drowning here)

Food (Bi Weekly): $150.00 (I can make stuff last but we need some food.)

Vet For Rug and Check up for Marmalady: $180.00 (This can be postponed But i’d like for it to be soon.)

Spay For Both Girls: $150.00 (Also postponed but again, sooner rather then later would be best for them.)

Cat Food : $50.00 (They have food mostly for now. But that doesn’t take long to run through.)

Med’s and Dr’s: One Med which is a 3 months supply is $75 alone and others range 0-$50. Doctors visits also vary but specialists have not been more then $25 so far.

Ticket to see Gir: $250.80 (This is a major want not a need.)

= So a lot, Close to $1000.00 give or take

The ceiling and plumbing repair is $15,000 I in no way am asking for that. I just need help with monthly bills while my Dr forbids me to work till after I have surgery.

https://href.li/?https://www.paypal.com/paypalme/Pochimonster https://href.li/?https://ko-fi.com/pochiyaki I don’t know why the links wont embed/work if anyone has a suggestion please let me know.

#signal boost #mutual aid #urgent #please help #please reblog #please share

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taintandviolent · 6 months

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Stalked - Kai Anderson x Reader

summary & wordcount: 2.6K! After breaking up with Kai, he decides you need a little reminder of what once was. idea requested by @kaislittlelamb originally!

w a r n i n g s: smut with very little plot, implied stalking, toxic relationships, throat fucking, blowjobs, Kai being Kai, violence, aggression.

a/n: this was originally a drabble, but got longer - very quickly written, sorry if it's horrible! definitely not my best. thanks for reading it, if you did!!! no taglist this time because it's a pain in the bootay.

full fic under cut!↓ / ao3 link here! /

You'd met with Zack a few times now, but this was the first time you two had actually gotten to talk and get to know each other. He was cute, in a very boy next door sort of way; physically fit, a tousled mess of brown curls, bright green eyes, and bright, white teeth that probably got whitened bi-weekly.

"So, anyways, I moved here about three months ago after my mom moved here, and with her needing help, I figured I might as well stay."

"Nice." You grinned.

"Yeah, so I'm definitely still learning the best spots to eat..."

You casually glanced around the restaurant, scanning the patrons next to you; you were an observer and enjoyed people watching, in all situations. Abruptly, several tables across from you, wavy, blue hair caught your attention. Your expression contorted into one of shock as your eyes trailed down the bridge of the nose, taking in the man's face. No fucking way.

As though he felt that he was being watched, Kai turned mid-sentence, and immediately made eye contact with you. His brows rose slowly in surprise, and ultimately, delight. You blinked and turned away quickly, engulfing yourself back in the conversation. Or hoping to. But there was no escaping this.

"Excuse me," you heard him say, before scooting his chair back. The legs scraped against the floor with an awkward sound, and Kai made his way over to you, navigating around the tables.

Like a child trying to avoid being found, you almost considered sinking down in your seat, chest heaving with shallow breaths. Some luck you had. Some fucking luck. You rolled your eyes, shifting your shoulders. Zack watched you, studying your very apparent discomfort. You felt both men's eyes on you, and laughed nervously into your soda.

"Y/N..." Kai said.

You said nothing in return, only smiled sarcastically and stirred your soda with the straw.

"New boyfriend?" He asked, his tone dripping with faux-interest. You knew him. You knew him like the back of your hand, and he wasn't interested. He was waiting to incriminate you.

"No, actually." Zack interjected, bravely. "We're just getting to know each other. It's going well."

You nodded, giving him a genuine smile. "It is."

Kai tightened his smile further; the fakeness started to show through the cracks. "Good, good. Well, I just wanted to say hello. I'll leave you two lovebirds to finish your appetizers."

"You know him?"

"Unfortunately. Too well."

"Ex-boyfriend?" Zack asked, popping another spinach-dip loaded chip into his mouth.

Sheepishly, you nodded.

"He looks familiar."

"Yeah, you've probably seen him on TV. He's a councilman."

Zack snapped his fingers, pointing at you. "That's it! Anderson, right?"

Again, you nodded. "Yep... that's the one."

The waiter appeared, meals in hand. As you two ate, the conversation naturally melted away from Kai, which you were grateful for. Especially since it seemed like it was headed in the direction of Zack wanting to vote for him and agreeing with his campaign policies. Unfortunately, Zack fit the bill of one of the men that Kai would easily brainwash, and recruit to his noble cause.

Halfway through dessert, your phone buzzed. You knew who it was from without even looking. The message read: We should get together.

You quickly thumbed out a response. Why?

Just to talk.

Against better judgement, you agreed. The rest of the date was spent laughing about poorly written films in the last decade, but in the back of your mind, laughing was the last thing you wanted to be doing. The next hour was a blur. Zack had gone in for a kiss when he was leaving, which you returned, but only briefly. You were distracted. Painfully so. You went from the restaurant to Kai's, but you hardly remembered driving there. Your mind was on autopilot; a rotten, sour feeling bubbling in your stomach. Everything in you said that this was a bad idea, and yet, you gripped the steering wheel hard, looking at his front door.

You got out, locked your car and made your way up the pathway. You only knocked once before the door flew open. He stood tall. Proud. Unwavering. That overly confident, but calm smile plastered on his stupidly-handsome face. His hair hung at his cheeks, greasy as ever. He was pleased you'd shown up - you thought you saw a flicker of doubt that maybe, just maybe, you wouldn't have. But you were a woman of your word, and you weren't going to show him that he was something to fear.

"So, when are you going to break it off with what's-his-name?" Kai asked as he took the basement stairs quickly, trotting down them. You followed, wordlessly, revelling in the familiar sensations. Once you'd stopped at the final step, you glanced forward, eyes locking on the brown leather couch. Out of all the memories that you'd had in that basement, the ones that rushed back were the ones where Kai was fucking you on that couch. Ruthless, merciless fucking until your back hurt and your insides felt like they'd been obliterated twice over. You blinked the images away, swallowing hard. Your head turned before your eyes met his.

"Zack is actually very nice, and he'd probably treat me very well if I decided to pursue a relationship with him. But since when do you care who I'm with?"

"It's my business."

"No, it fucking isn't. It hasn't been for weeks. Last time I checked... I was uhhh, what was it? A stupid bitch?" That had become a favorite alias of his. You plopped down on the sofa, cushions giving way to your weight.

Kai bristled. "You know, you really should be careful what you post on social media."

"Excuse me?"

"You never know who could be watching."

The realisation hits you like a freight train. Him being at the restaurant wasn't a coincidence, it wasn't bad luck. Kai knew exactly where you were going to be and he made it a point to be there. You’d replied to a friend in the comments of a post, telling her that you were going to be at that particular restaurant in the afternoon. He’d seen that.

"You've been.... fucking stalking me!?"

Kai filled his chest with air, somehow standing taller than he already did. "You sure like to show off your cute little life, don't you? Pathetic little coffee outings and Tapas date nights. But what I want to know..." Kai trailed off, circling you like the pathetic little lamb you were. "...is who you go home and think about. Is it Zack? Or maybe Edward?"

You felt the muscles underneath your eye twitch.

"Or is it.... me?"

Kai finally moved in front of you, his broad chest obscuring your view from everything else. His legs touched your knees.

"Answer me."

"I don't have to tell you anything, Kai. You aren't my boyfriend anymore."

"I said answer me!" Kai pressed his thumb and forefinger into your cheeks, making your lips pucker out like a stupid, confused fish. He yanked your head forward, bringing it up towards his. The action strained the muscles in your neck, but you didn't dare say that. This dynamic was very familiar to you. You'd been here before.

"Seems like you need a little reminder."

A chill ran down your spine.

"Open your mouth." Kai's thumb traced your pouty lips softly, sweeping back and forth. He waited a few seconds, his face tight with impatience and when you didn't concede to his request, Kai forced your mouth open, pressing his fingers into your cheek flesh until you winced and dropped your jaw.

"Good girl. Now, you're going to keep your mouth open until I say to close it. You understand?"

You nodded, your tongue resting delicately on your bottom teeth.

"I have a very important job for you. You're going to stroke my cock until it's hard and then I'm going to throat fuck you."

You held back a cringe. He was always so... direct. Direct with his intentions, direct with his words, direct with his actions. You supposed that was the main vein of why he was doing so well as a councilman; people liked the truth -- and regardless of validity, if something is delivered with enough confidence and directness, it's believed.

You reached forward tentatively, undoing the button of his dark jeans. The zipper came next, one tooth at a time. You felt the heat of his groin as soon as you leaned forward to pull the jeans over his buttocks, turning your face away so that you weren't met with a mouthful of fabric. With a strong hand, you gripped the elastic of his boxers, pulling them down over his balls - his dick flopped out, heavy and warm to the touch. You sucked a self-encouraging breath into your lungs and reached forward to grip his flaccid cock, inching your lips towards it.

"No." He bucked his hips backwards, furrowing his brows. "What did I say?"

You froze, backpedalled and began stroking, intentionally angling it towards your mouth. Kai let out a shallow breath, pressing his chin against his chest to watch you. You gave it a firm squeeze, and in response, his cock twitched in your grip; it didn't take long for it to swell and stiffen to capacity in your grasp. You paid some attention to the tip, spreading around the slithery pre-cum that had leaked from the slit.

"I always liked that about you - your willing adherence to any and all demands. You know what I want."

At least he was praiseful. He always had been, even in the late and toxic stages of your relationship. Still, you chalked it up to him enjoying the sound of his own voice and feeling like he was in control of the situation

Your free hand took hold of his balls, squeezing them softly. At that, Kai vocalized hungrily, grunting low in his throat. He was a very venous man; in any heightened state of emotion that got the blood flowing, his veins popped in his forehead, his neck, his hands... and his cock. Your tongue massaged the veins that swelled on his shaft, flattened out on the thickest one underneath and flicked at the tip.

You continued jerking it, finding a rhythm until Kai's large hand enveloped yours, forcing his cock out of your grasp to replace it with his own. Pumping his cock in and out of his hand a few times quickly, Kai hissed through his teeth, and took a fistful of your hair at the crown of your head. He immediately let go, and cupped the back of your head with his hand, stroking it softly. Tenderly -- like it meant something to him. It didn't. You were a stupid pawn in his story, another one of his dedicated cult members, and he regarded them all the same.

You closed your mouth to swallow, wetting the inside of it before returning to your previous, vulnerable position, tongue out, eyes lifted to meet his. Kai's pitch-dark eyes looked down at you with a roiling expectancy, one that spoke louder than words could. He slapped the tip of his cock against your waiting tongue, revelling in that first, startled flinch.

At first, he slid just the tip along the texture of your tongue, grinding against you, but it didn't take him long to penetrate. The tip of his cock bumped against the back of your throat, and you closed your lips, bowing your head slightly to allow him further down your throat.

“How does that feel?”

You nodded your head. Kai let out another throaty moan and picked up his pace, thrusting his hips hard into your face as you relaxed your throat as best you could, fighting your gag reflex. His cock filled your throat - violated it - the salty taste of his precum overwhelming your senses. Your nose burned and your eyes watered. You guessed that your eye makeup had begun to stream down your cheeks in ebony ribbons.

Kai's visual was ethereal. You were coming undone before him - below him - as women should. In such a submissive state, you looked your best. He took a fistful of your hair and yanked you forward, violently forcing you to deep throat his dick. He felt the slick, strong contraction of your reflex and grit his teeth; you were withholding it, but the pathetic, whimpering sounds of your gags drove him forward. He pictured them, remembering all the times that he had been in a similar position with you.

"Gag," he said, finally. "I want to hear your pain."

When you didn't, Kai forced his cock further into your throat, until your nose was pressed in the bush of his hair. That did it. With your eyes squeezed shut, your throat repeatedly rebelled. You coughed and gagged around his shaft, the tip still pressed against your tonsils. You finally opened your bleary eyes at him, straining them upwards to get a visual on him, to beg him wordlessly for relief. Kai flattened his hand on the back of your head and bunny humped your face, pulling more desperate gags from your throat.

"Who do you belong to?"

No response. Just a full-mouthed cough.

He took a fistful of your hair, pulling you hard off of his dick. THWACK! Kai's hand whipped across your face, leaving a welting streak of red in its wake. His cock bumped against the roof of your mouth as you nodded slowly, stunned from the sheer force.

"I'll ask you one more time... who do you belong to?"

Finally, you gave him another feeble nod and lifted your hand to press a single finger into his pectoral muscle.

"Good... that's what I like to hear. You remembered that it's rude to talk with your mouth full, too. I'm so proud of you."

Kai reinserted his cock into your waiting mouth, almost gently. That was everything but comforting, but this foreplay was familiar to you, and therefore, enjoyable. Sure, the way your throat burned as his dick hammered in and out might've teetered on the edge of discomfiting, but you'd been here before. You knew him, and at one point, you loved him.

You made an O around his cock as he dragged it out from the back of your throat, sucking gently. Kai began thrusting again, but less rhythmically than before. He was losing his steady pace, and that only meant one thing.

"Don't fucking stop," he breathed. "Keep going."

You closed your eyes again, two tears streaming down your blushing, caving cheeks. He was going to cum soon, you felt the tightness, the heat, the urgency behind his thrusts. Pumping his cock in and out of your swollen lips, Kai’s hand snapped to the back of your neck, holding you in place as he thrust remorselessly.

A second later, he bottomed out again, and you felt his cock twitching, pulsing in your mouth as his orgasm washed down the back of your throat. You coughed a wet, sticky wet cough and Kai groaned, letting his head fall back into his shoulders.

"Swallow. Fucking swallow it."

You did. You winced as your throat accepted the mouthful of blisteringly hot cum, salty and slightly unpleasant. Your mouth felt sticky and your throat was coated – you couldn't talk, not clearly. So, instead of telling Kai that you hated him, you just glared at him with fire in your gaze, baring your teeth at him like an angry dog.

“Aw, what? What, you hate me? Is that what you want to say?”

You nodded.

“Go sit at the table. We’re going to talk about that.”

#myfics #Kai Anderson x reader #Kai Anderson x you #AHS Cult #American Horror Story

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hballegro · 2 months

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i have more conspiracies about MASH that may or may not be true, but ive decided they are. they also just might have been explained, but im dumb, and cant remember. heres your sequel.

in 7x3 where hawkeye tackles bj, bj goes "AAH!' and hawkeye says 'WRONG! THAT STARTS WITH AN H!'. this is because mike farrell's line was 'hey!' but due to the force and drama of the scene, just Yelped instead.

All the dogs that turned up that never appeared again [like the one bj and hawk "ate" when they were trying to scare a visitor, dogs seen in 1 shot, etc] were just dogs that the production crew/cast owned and wanted to bring to work/volunteered their animal for acting duty

in the handful if scenes where hawkeye is actually knitting [and not using the red yarn, for the reason given in the previous edition], hes making a blankie for erin. [co-credit my sibling]

klinger got his ears pierced during the course of the show, starting with clearly just clip-ons and then later declares he doesnt want his ears to close up. some say continuity error, I say commitment (and also it would probably be easier to find real earrings instead of clip-ons)

in s7e2 Peace on Us, no one told bill christopher to tie that red streamer around his neck, he just thought it would be silly

in s7e2 Peace on Us, again, no one told alan alda to drive the jeep back to camp with his leg up like that. he just knows the character well enough to make that call. which he's correct about

the scar on hawkeye's lip was caused by a fishhook in his youth. got called Troutboy a long time afterward because of it.

bj is a vaseline girlie and takes good care of his hair as well.

hawkeye sniffs food because, having grown up partly during the depression, eating spoiled food was a real risk, so giving it a good ol' sniff-test was a given

fr mulcahy cares deeply about his appearance and engages in more grooming activities than any other guy in camp [the shower cap, always looking perfect, owning gardening gloves, manicured hands and feet, etc]. he even irons his stole on a bi-weekly basis and launders his clerical collars

hawkeye's issues with people leaving and not saying goodbye began with his mother after she passed, since his father didnt want him to worry

on nights where charles goes to bed after the other two, he will occasionally clean up a little bit. this contributes to why he's so pissed in 'Pressure Points'- he's been doing his own cleaning and some of theirs without them noticing or caring.

once again these are all just things that came to mind while watching, i didnt think too hard on them. the only one 'researched' on was the food sniffing, solely because i needed to do Year Math lol

#i mean that blankie one with my WHOLE HEART #mash #m*a*s*h #mash 4077 #mashblogging #mashblr #hawkeye pierce #charles emerson winchester iii #bj hunnicutt #father mulcahy #mike farrell #alan alda #william christopher #like seriously ive thought abt it a long time. why else would we never see it actually used. he made that little girl a blankie #the bj conspiracy abt vaseline is just because i spent a really long time having to stare @ his mouth and went 'he takes care of this thing #same goes for his hair honestly just 'wow he takes care of this stuff huh'#i mean he canonically has a mustache comb so this isnt that far beyond #the sniffing one was partly inspired by me having specifically an egg-sniffing habit because once i bit into a spoiled boiled egg #and now always have to check even if i JUST boiled em #shoutout fr mulcahy for refusing to slack on serving not only the lord but in general #also the yelp one took 2 seconds of thought. just 'wh. he said AAH. why are you saying 'h''#then i realized he was prolly supposed to say 'ahhh! hey! >:['#but when you are tackled by the wet pool noodle man #it is hard to remember your lines #edited just to highlight the blankie one further im being so serious about that one guys

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fazgoo-connoiseur-1987 · 2 months

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Do you have anything for Mrs.Afton?

MAAAAGGIEE <333333 Margret Schmidt <3333

Maggie and Bill met in college cus they were both smokers who went clubbing so they saw each other in outside quite a lot. They got along like a house on fire and were casually sleeping with each other for a while (as well as going out drinking). They find out Maggie is pregnant while they're both still in school so they have to get married, Maggie drops out cus of the pregnancy.

Now, Bill and Maggie get along really really well in short bursts, but they are awful when they live together. They are very much not compatable and they try to hold it together for their families and the kids but they just absolutly blow up at each other at the 1982 Fredbear's Christmas party and get a divorce.

Maggie has the kids on weekdays and they liike her she's good at it. Mike prefers her to his dad infinatly, Lizzie prefers Bill and is a little resentful towards her for encrouching on Dad Time, and CC is just happy to have parental affection. All the kids are Jewish through her too and Mike tries to practice culturally as much as he's able because he associates all the traditions with her <3

I doubt she deals with their deaths and Mike and Bill's disapearences well. She start's dating Henry's sister though which is niiiiice for her <3 She's also a tattoo artist btw :]

She works with the police trying to find Bill when he's on the run despite hating the cops because she's like 80% sure Mike's with him and that he really needs her right now (they have bi-weekly calls but he lies through his teeth to her and she can tell).

She lets Henry stay with her and Jen in the 2000s but mosty so she can grill him about everything that's happened and kick his ass in gear (she practically motivates him to Do Something by being the only person to call him out on his part in all of this).

#magiie....#fnaf #five nights at freddy's #mrs afton #william afton #michael afton #yelling about the bear #asks #anon #mrs afton is the tag i use for her if you wanna see more btw #i love her

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nytehavyn-circle · 4 months

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RaDean "Dean" Harriman

FC: Can Yaman Sexuality: Heterosexual but bi-curious Species: Human Height: 6'2" Age: Late 30's Occupation: Photographer

Dean was born into a life of struggle. His parents lived a meager life, but always managed to put food on the table, sometimes at the detriment of other bills.

His mother died of cancer when he was 10. It horrified him for the rest of his life because whenever someone mentions cancer, he has to talk himself down from a possible panic attack. That said, he is caring and kind to cancer patients or people with family and/or friends of loved ones. Because he's went through it.

Along with his other photography, he takes amazingly beautiful and sometimes heart-wrenching pictures of cancer patients. These particular pictures, he sells them to cancer wards, medical magazines, etc. He gives back that particular money to help cancer research and to St. Jude's especially.

His father tried to raise Dean correctly. He loved his son, but he struggled with alcohol constantly after his wife died, and quite often found himself falling asleep in his recliner after hitting the bottom of one. Dean's father never went to bars, just liquor stores, because he didn't want to leave Dean all alone. He tried. He desperately tried. Dean couldn't be bitter and hateful toward his father, because he saw the struggle. His father died when Dean was in his 20s.

When his mother died, she left Dean and his father with quite a sum of money. When Dean's father died, he left Dean with quite a sum of money. He's able to live off of this quote comfortably.

Before all of this, before his mother's death, Dean became fascinated with photography. He started taking pictures of almost everything; anything that looked special, or 'cool', or interesting, Dean was there to snap a photo. At first, he was using his parent's Polaroid camera. Then, on his 11th birthday, he was gifted with a digital camera. He was excited because it meant higher-quality pictures. He continued to take pictures of almost everything, sometimes distance pictures of people. Yet, he had a modicum of decency. Before he took close-ups of people, he'd always ask permission but told them to continue doing what they were doing before he bothered them, telling them to pretend he wasn't there. Then he'd find the Perfect Moment™. He didn't always know what it would be, but he'd recognize it when it happened. Sometimes he'd wait for hours before finally snapping a photo.

He became better and better at finding the Perfect Moment™ for pictures. Even with intimate objects, he'd manage to find that moment.

He managed to start selling his pictures to major magazines like National Geographic, Science, Popular Mechanics, and Entertainment Weekly. He became an international name in the world of photography because he didn't photograph just one type of theme, he took pictures of everything; from a picture of a crack in the sidewalk to pictures of war. He became a multiple-award winner for photography, which led to corporate entities hiring him to take specific photographs. He was paid handsomely for his work.

This money, along with the life insurance his mother and father left him, has just allowed Dean to keep up his lavish lifestyle.

Dean is non-monogamous. He's afraid of commitment. He rarely opens up about his emotions. He's been in a couple of relationships that turned abusive and toxic, with himself as the victim, and sometimes the perpetrator. It was enough for him to swear off actual relationships because he didn't believe they worked out. He believed people in relationships were fooling themselves and each other.

He participates in one-night stands, threesomes, and multiple dating partners, where sometimes he makes the 'mistake' of setting up dates at the same time on the same day. Which has led to some not-so-surprising moments. If he hears the word "love," he panics and ghosts the person.

He's also quite a dick. It's speculated that his poor life growing up, his father's alcoholism, the cancer, his mother dying from it, and a few other unnamed reasons, have turned him into an asshole.

But he has managed to make some friends and have them become friends with benefits. That's the height of his emotional commitment. But even the few friends he has don't know much, because he never opens up. He has built a wall around him out of tempered steel which is six inches thick, which would take a pair of metal clippers, a jackhammer, an ice pick, and a blowtorch to even crack it open.

No one has ever stuck around long enough to try to break through. (And why would they? He's a jerk.) They give up before they've even gotten started. It would take the patience of a saint to break through his barrier.

The only people who know the most about him are the higher-ups at NyteHavyn Castle. And that's about it.

Dean is a dick, but it seems to be a defense mechanism, to keep him from getting emotionally involved with anybody, although he can be quite romantic. But he has difficulty showing his romantic side to anybody because he doesn't want to be seen as weak. He wants to believe in love, but he's scared to. If and when he feels himself becoming emotionally attached to someone, he will distance himself, pushing down his emotions into the holes left in his heart from before. The truth of the matter is that Dean doesn't believe he deserves love or is worthy of it.

But how he would find so much joy to have someone or someones, actually love him for him, who have the patience to break through. He has yet to find those people.

He's easygoing, and snarky, but hides his kind nature. He can be manipulative and calculating. He hates himself, but no one knows. He hates being vulnerable because he believes this also makes him weak.

Dean has all but lost hope that he'll ever actually find love. So, Dean is emotionally unavailable. You want a hookup? A friend with benefits? Non-commital booty call relationship? Dean's your guy.

But don't tell him you love him, you'll send him running off in the opposite direction.

Also, Dean has a sister he was never told about and doesn't know about.

#muse #new muse #about muse #OC #RaDean “Dean” Harriman #Dean Harriman #RaDean Harriman #tw: cancer #tw: cancer mention #cancer mention

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kitsunesflames · 2 months

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Just a thought that won’t leave my head. Just a few years ago I was this teen.

This teen had a small service part-time job where I had to stand for four to five hours. I didn’t know what breaks were.

Every two weeks I’d get this check for $84. $98 if I was lucky and got to work a Sunday morning.

And I’d be so excited every time that check was handed to me. I’d be smiling for the rest of that day.

I would just wiped down tables, roll silverware, and seat people. That was my job parameters at least in the beginning.

I was so happy with each little check I got, smiling when I got home late even if my service dog in training at the time made a mess for me to clean up when the sun was down.

I started to sweep the restaurant, take out the trash, sort the silverware out and if I found rolled silverware that wasn’t clean enough to me I’d reroll the entire set and send back the dirty ones. I’d take drink orders for waitresses having a bad day or just needed a little help that day. I’d write down orders for them occasionally too.

I’d talk to customers and keep them happy and entertained while they were waiting to check out. I’d engage with them so they wouldn’t get mad that their waitress wasn’t immediately there to take their bill.

I got tipped once for just talking to a costumer while her waitress was calming down from a huge rush. I didn’t understand tipping very well then. Still don’t. This lovely woman put a twenty dollar bill into my hands. She was from England visiting family for the holidays. I lived all the stories each costumer was willing to tell me.

When the costumer left I tried to give that tip to the waitress in charge of the costumers table. I didn’t understand how that money was meant for me. My job was to sit people, clean tables off, and roll silverware after all. Nothing to be tipped over.

That waitress, she grabbed my hands and had me cover the bill, and slide it into my pockets. I think I understand now today why she did that. The only thing she said to me, “This money is meant for you hon. Just don’t tell no one that you were given it.” I didn’t understand why she didn’t take the cash that I was convinced was meant for her, and I didn’t understand why she seemed so sad when I tried to refuse that twenty.

I had a seizure three months into the job while on the clock. My shift was ten minutes from ending. It wasn’t even a gran mal, and no costumers saw me seize. My mother got me and took me home early. I was said that I didn’t get to finish my shift. I’d been recently diagnosed, I guess you could say I was still in denial. That was my last shift at that job.

I wasn’t fired. I didn’t quit. I had a single on site mioclonic seizure at the end of my shift and I was no longer being called in. I asked too when my next shift was. My uncle worked at that same place, he came to me one night and handed me a check for $64 dollars.

I was frustrated. I wanted to go back to work. I didn’t understand why I couldn’t go back to sitting people and rolling silverware. I wanted to small at my bi weekly check that wasn’t much.

I miss those checks. I miss having a job. I tried two years after that to apply for another job. It was smooth sailing until the in person interview. My service dog was working and by my side 24/7 at that point. The in person interview didn’t last five minutes.

I miss the routine, I miss my busy work, I miss my small conversations, and I miss my tiny checks that said, “You got paid! You did work and you have the proof!”

I don’t smile as much anymore. I can’t drive. My work experience is that one job that I loved too much.

But I don’t know how I’d even start to get that little happiness back. I miss it. I have part time online college classes, but a good grade isn’t the same as a check, even a tiny one. I have a 4.0, and that doesn’t make me smile. But a check that was $84 had me smiling for days.

#angsty rant #life #not fandom related #epilepsy #part-time job #being let go #work #disability #service dog #I miss working #I miss my little checks #tw: seizure mention

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