#William is a good man

[rainboq]

Yo. Same anon who asked about William and Chloe's girlfriends. Loved your answer, but now I'm curious about your thoughts on how William would be around the male figures in Chloe's life, i.e. Elliot, David, the North brothers and Nathan.

Nathan and Eliot are the exact kind of boys that William is terrified of his daughter getting anywhere near, yet at the same time... he's not going to make her do anything. Rather, he'd give Chloe long, involved talks about consent, what to avoid at parties, etc. That said, I don't think Elliot has a snowball's chance in hell of getting near a Chloe who has a secure homelife and the freedom to explore her sexuality. Maybe the odd conversation, but she's not interested in him that way. The only reason they had any history at all is because Chloe was in a supremely vulnerable part of her life and she was trading her body for access to booze/weed and not being alone.

As for Nathan? Chloe wouldn't travel in his circles, and she wouldn't give him the time of day anyways. He might try and spike her drink, but she's probably got some of that nail polish that changes colour if it touches a drink that's been spiked. Seems like her kinda thing. If anything, I think that ends with William getting a call to the police station to pick Chloe up after she punches Nathan in the face. If Nathan tried to reach out to Chloe for help though? I think that would be a totally different story, I just have a hard time believing that he'd even be in a place where he would do that.

David is a more interesting story. Chloe and her dad both have huge hearts. (If anything, a lot of Chloe's problems stem from her caring too much, and being unable to manage the emotional pain in her life after the accident.) So when Chloe tells her dad about the depressed looking guy driving the bus, and William learns that he's a down on his luck veteran? He's going to try and help a guy out. Maybe try and find him better employment and some community to help out. It could even work out, but if David so much as raises his voice at Chloe, never mind his hand? William will drop him like a rock.

William would absolutely adore the Norths, he'd for sure go the extra mile trying to help Papa North find housing again, and he'd offer to let Mikey stay at their house on the spot. Honestly the thought of Drew, Mikey, Steph, and Chloe all playing tabletop with William running the game gives me the warm fuzzies.

[notyoujamie]

[chloesimaginationthings]

The FNAF movie ending in a nutshell,,

[be-an-echo]

✨ girl dad Joel ✨

made for @kokureno

[kolbalissh]

franco colapinto you have rocked my world i love him sm

[mobius-m-mobius]

I want to talk to you... Without speaking.

QUEER (2024) dir. Luca Guadagnino

[arkarti]

Willry

Slight AU where William is a bit nicer/cares at the beginning. Set before anything bad happens.

[ppjeterka]

my thoughts re: the main cast of the new nhl amazon docu-series

[donaviolet]

Words cannot explain how in love I am with Will Wood's new song titles

[livelovecaliforniadreams]

The Good Place 4x12 | A Man On The Inside 1x6

[rickeajacksons]

[starlarz]

william nylander - postgame v penguins // oct 12 '24

[ego-meliorem-esse]

July 13th, 1917

Be it from a sense of paternal concern or simply patriotic duty, Arthur made sure to leave his soldiers in the charge of an older Corporal and made his way to the quite pathetic excuse of a medical section where his son was left to rot.

Arthur had heard about the attack. He had been informed the day prior.

He had seen war and famine and sickness, but never like this. Arthur wasn't young, in any sense, and what wonders and strong political oppinions young men had, had left him a long time ago like a ship leaving the harbour in a hury to claim new land. This though, had left shock echoing within his tired, millenia old frame. He wasn't used to this.

Arthur made his way through the trenches with soldiers from every corner of the globe instantly stopping whatever they were doing prior and saluting him as if etiquette and rank mattered in hell. As if it was more importaint to greet the Higher ups than to survive long enough to even write a letter back to family. Arthur did understand that though. Routine and rules were the only thing keeping these poor and wretched souls from being consumed by thoughts of an imminent death.

The path to the section where Matthew was held was quite straightforward and quite familiar. He had marched to and from it hundreds of times and had a sort of automatic rithm in his step. Arthur made his way to the small and damp room with a fast pace indicative of familiarity, only to stop in his tracks in the shabbily built doorframe at the sight that awaited him in the corner.

Matthew sat in the corner of the sad makeshift medical section of the trenches, his back firm against the cold, damp wall.

His once-piercing blue-grey eyes were now clouded over with milky white cataracts, rendering him completely blind. The newly used gas had stolen his sight. His skin, once tanned and healthy, now bore the sickly pallor of a much older man who had endured unimaginable suffering.

Matthew's uniform, discarded in favour of his worn down undershirt, was now a tattered and stained relic of his time in the trenches. The not-white-anymore shirt clung to his emaciated frame as if decency still mattered in hell. The physical toll of the war was clear on his body. Not that Matthew would have to worry about seeing that any time soon. His hands, which had once held a rifle with resolve, now trembled even while resting on his thighs.

Despite his physical and emotional anguish, Matthew remained seated upright, his back pressed against the unforgiving, stained wall. A testament to his resilience if there was any left, a silent protest against the horrors that had taken his sight and left him broken in body and spirit.

As he sat there, his spirit reduced to a hollow shell, Matthew's face bore a mixed expression of utter defeat and complete indifference. His lips were drawn into a thin, lifeless line, and his cheeks were gaunt from the weight of his suffering. His blank, unseeing eyes stared into the abyss, as if waiting for answers and also hoping they'd never arrive.

In that moment, Matthew was not a representation of Canada; he was a young man who had been scarred and broken by the senseless brutality of war. The trenches around him buzzed with activity, but he remained isolated in his silent world of darkness and despair. The young medics job was done. He had patched Matthew up and left him to his own misery. Matthew was grateful.

Arthur stood there silently under the doorframe for what seemed like hours, but was probably only a few seconds. A strange and unfamiliar twinge of emotion plucked and pulled on his conscience. He hadn't felt guilt in quite some time. This feeling was reserved for drunken nights spent in solitude with the doors to the room he resided in firmly locked so that his sliver of self-deprecating emotion wasn't witnessed by any but himself, while he drunk himself to unconsciousness.

He preferred the emotional solitude to this.

Arthur had believed himself to be capable of most things. Especially conversation and confrontation. He was quite good at those as centuries of existence had proved. He believed himself quite skilful with words. Most of the time he knew what to say and when to say it without it resulting in unwanted and unforeseen consequences, while still making sure his opinion was heard.

Arthur had no words forming as he stood in that doorframe. If Arthur was a good man, his reasoning would be that he felt such strong empathy and sadness that words wouldn't be enough to express the sorrow he felt at that moment. If Arthur was a good man he'd run to his son, assure him that this wouldn't happen ever again and that he was safe. If Arthur was a good man he would fall on his knees in front of his oldest son and beg for forgiveness.

Arthur wasn't a good man.

He could admit to his shortcomings, but to act on them was not in his nature.

So he stood there for another 5 or 6 minutes watching his son shallowly breathe in and out, hearing the boys lungs struggle to keep up with his muscles contraction and need for air.

He must have made a noise, as Matthew's head tilted slightly to the left, almost looking at Arthur but definitely not seeing him. Arthur looked back at him.

The room was quiet, save for the desperate plea of Matthews lungs to be put out of their misery.

Sensing nothing after a few moments, Matthew turned his head back towards the blank wall ahead.

Arthur silently turned his frame around and slowly started walking the path he had taken to get here. As he took a few steps, he released the breath he didn't know he was holding.

How he longed for that whiskey bottle and that dark room where he could lock himself in and slowly drift out of consciousness instead of facing his own mistakes.

Arthur definitely was not a good man.

[clericofshadows]

ASHLEY WILLIAMS'S ARMORY MOD KAIDAN'S ARMOR

[mockingjaysnakes]

tom blyth photographed by mathias goldstein (2021)

[lichqueenlibrarian]

Trying my hand at drawing James T Kirk