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nickfowlerrr · 6 months

Text

darling, it's cold outside.

pairing: charles blackwood x curvy!reader

words: 2.7k

warnings: 18+ only. cockwarming. not foot fetish stuff but he does remove her heels for her? lol. pining. little bit of holiday blues mentioned but overall this is pretty fluffy. maybe like the littlest bit soft!dark if you squint.

notes: very happy to be writing for charles again, i've missed him. 🥹

inspired by this txt post, this is one of seven characters i’m writing this prompt of sorts for. thank you in advance for reading and as always, reblogs and comments are welcome and so appreciated. ❣️

"Mr. Blackwood," you call out as you walk down the empty hallway, your heels clacking on the marble flooring as you go, "I remade the guest bedroom like you asked. If there's nothing else for tonight, I was going to be heading home?"

You look into his open office as you pass, he's not there. Curious...

You continue down the hall, peeking into the study, then the tea room, and then the living room - none of which held him. The television in the living room was on, however, so you assumed he must be close by. But where?

Normally you find it difficult to get more than a few minutes alone from him when you're working, but now the man of the house is as elusive as your holiday spirit seems to be this year.

The pitter patter of the rain outside the castle captures your attention as you pass the grand window.

"Oh no," you sigh as you peer out into the dreary scene. The Christmas lights strung up outside appear blurry through the rain droplets on the glass as the sky grows darker with each moment that passes.

You were supposed to be out of here by 3pm, but Charles, for the first time since you'd started working for him, had many a qualm about your cleaning and tidyings today. You had to go over the bathrooms twice and were instructed to remake his bed before reattending to the guest room. It was nearing 5:30 now, and the rain you were hoping to avoid has clearly already begun - and if the weatherman was correct - would be staying long through the night.

It's not a terribly long walk home, but in your uniform, having to walk home in the rain is a less than ideal situation.

But you resign yourself to your fate as you turn from the window and continue on your search for your boss.

"Mr. Blackwood," you call again, "I'm about to be heading home."

As you finish your sentence, crossing in front of the lavish cranberry colored couch, you notice the throw blanket you had folded and put away earlier is now adorning the cushions. You think to check by the linen closet on the other side of the staircase - hoping to find him somewhere over there so he may dismiss you for the night.

You are about to leave the room when suddenly you hear the kettle whistle sharply from the kitchen. Your brows knit together as you stop in your tracks and turn back around to go toward the kitchen instead.

The sound of your heels as you walk informs Charles of your presence as you enter the room. He turns from the stove, having just moved the kettle from one burner to the other, and looks surprised to see you.

"Oh," he said, nonplussed, "you're still here?" His brow was raised as he looked at you.

You felt stumped yourself, standing blankly for a moment before blinking away your confusion. "Yes, I- I just finished remaking the guest bedroom like you asked," you stammered just slightly.

"Oh, perfect. Thank you. You really are an angel, you know that?" he praised, smiling that ever charming smile at you.

You couldn't help but return one of your own, eyes flicking down almost immediately, unable to hold his gaze.

You sucked in a breath, schooling your face as you looked back up. "Did you want to check it over?"

"No," he brushed off with a shake of his head, turning back to open the cabinet behind him, "I'm sure everything is in order. I trust you."

Your lips twitch as you hold back a disbelieving laugh. He seemed so concerned earlier...

"Alright. Well, if that's everything, Mr. Blackwood-"

"Charles," he corrects.

"...Charles," you amend, "if that was all, I was planning on heading out for the night."

"Of course," he agrees, turning to face you once again, with two mugs in his hands. "Do you have time for some hot chocolate, or will your ride be here soon?"

"Oh, I don't have a ride," you hide a grimace at the reminder of your lonesomeness. Well...maybe you could call a cab? But no, that short ride would just feel like a waste of your hard earned money. And anyway, Charles knows you walk to and from. He's chided you on it before. You'll never forget the way you warmed at his concern for you that first time. He had offered you a ride home, but you refused. It was a clear evening and there really was no reason for any fuss. But of course, his worry still made your heart flutter.

The mugs clink as they're set down on the counter, the sound brining you back to the room. "Sweetheart, it's raining. Supposed to only pick up, too. If you were planning on walking, I don't think that'd be a good idea."

The pet name has butterflies taking flight in your tummy as you work to tamp them down.

"It's not that far of a walk, I'm sure I'll be fine."

"I must insist that you stay," he presses, your name sounding so nicely on his tongue. "Please. I would offer you a ride myself but I'm afraid my headlight blew out, I wouldn't be able to see a thing. The guest room would be yours and I could drive you home in the morning. Or, if you insist, the weather should be fairer by then - enough to walk if you really want."

"Oh, really, I would hate to inconvenience you, sir."

"Not at all," he assures you as he prepares both mugs of coco. "In fact, I think it'd be nice to have some company for the holiday. In a house this big, being alone can feel rather lonely."

You consider his words and can't help but agree. "It can feel much the same in a small home, too," you say with a bittersweet smile. "If you really don't mind, I'd be thankful to stay."

"And I'd be thankful for the company," he smiles back. "I was about to start a movie."

You trail behind him slowly as he leads the way back to the living room. When you get to the couch, he sets both mugs down on the coffee table as he gestures for you to sit.

"Please, get comfortable. You've been on your feet all day."

You don't argue and take your seat. The couch is as comfortable as it always looks and you can't help but sigh as you relish the feeling. You almost instinctively kick off your heels, but stop yourself right in time. Charles notices the twitch of your feet, however.

You hold in a gasp as he kneels down before you and takes hold of your foot. His eyes flash up to yours as you stare down at him, lips parted and breath stalled. He slips your heel off and squeezes your foot lightly before repeating the same to your other foot. No words are exchanged as he pops back up and walks to the television. He pushes a tape into the player before sauntering back over to you.

You want to lift a leg up underneath you but don't allow yourself to, especially not while you're in this skirt. Charles takes the spot beside you and you somehow go even more rigid at his proximity.

"I said get comfortable, darling," he chides, pulling you in closer to him, "I meant it."

You allow yourself to fall into his side, and then after a long second, slowly bring a leg up to get more comfortable beside him. Another long moment, and you bring your other leg up as well, repositioning yourself while you shimmy the littlest bit closer.

Charles is warm and the room is a bit cold, so you don't mind how close he actually is. Maybe more aptly, how close you are to him...

You try to focus on the opening scene of the holiday movie you've only heard of before, never actually having had the chance to see it. But as Charles leans over and grabs the throw he'd brought out earlier, he takes over your focus once again. He drapes the blanket over both of you before settling back, essentially right against you now.

Your heart is beating so loud, you're almost sure he can hear it if he listens close enough.

Charles wraps his arm around your shoulder and you instinctively scoot closer still, letting your head rest on his chest trepidatiously. He hums his approval as you do.

"Is this okay?" he asks quietly, keeping the cozy and comfortable ambience in tact.

You're quiet, unsure of what to say. Does it feel okay? It feels like everything you've dreamed of since meeting the man. But is it okay? That you're not so sure of. Are you crossing a line? Is this a mistake?... Oh god, what are you doing? You can't lose this job!

You push yourself to sit up, pulling away from Charles as he looks at you, stunned by your haste.

"I- I'm so sorry, Mr. Blackwood. I don't know what's come over me. I should, I should go," you rush your words as you try to stand.

Try.

Charles' hand is on you in an instant, keeping you in place. You look at him with wide eyes, like a deer in headlights. He says your name and you don't think to try and get up again.

"Darling, I don't know what you're apologizing for. If I've made you uncomfortable, I should be apologizing to you," he says. "...Have I? Made you uncomfortable?"

You stare into the hypnotic gaze of his cerulean blue eyes, taking in his words. It's a moment before you softly shake your head. "No," you nearly whisper. "No, you haven't." He nods, admiring your face as you peer at him.

"That's good. And, it's Ch-"

"Charles," you cut him off. "I know. Habit," you shrug lightly.

"One you'll hopefully come to break," he smirks. "So, back to my question," he pulls you closer, "Was that okay? Being that close to me?"

You nod meekly, "Yes."

"And was it okay that I put my arm around you?"

Another weak murmur as you unconsciously lean into him, "Yes."

"And just to be sure," he breathes, leaning closer into you in return, "do you really want to leave?"

Your breath catches in your throat as you shake your head. "No."

"One last question," he says as he brings a hand to your cheek, holding your face delicately as he urges you closer. You're nose to nose as he continues, "Would it be okay if I kissed you now?"

You smile softly, your lips brush his as you answer him. "Yes," you nod.

He pulls you in gently and your hand holds his to your face as he finally kisses you, so softly you swear you could melt into the cushions.

You murmur again into the kiss as your eyelids flutter shut. Without thinking, you deepen the kiss. You find your body moving without your permission as you pull yourself more into him - almost crawling along the cushions to get closer to him.

Charles doesn't stop you, in fact, he leans back further - pulling you along the way, moving you up his lap.

Your skirt stretches across your thick thighs as you are maneuvered by him onto his lap. You straddle him as his arms come around you, pulling you to be flush against him - his lips never stopping as he kisses you so completely, so passionately. The intensity only grows more fervent as you return the desire in kind.

You mindlessly move your hips against his and he moans at the feeling. The sound of his pleasure is music to your ears and serves to get you even more worked up. You can feel the slickness as it grows between your thighs. And as you rock your hips again, you can feel Charles' excitement, too.

He is hard beneath you, his erection growing more and more prominent with each second.

"Mhm," you mewl against his lips, breaking for a breath, "Charles," you sigh - rocking once more. The friction sending a wave of sparking pleasure through you.

"Does that feel good for you, angel?" he asks, hands grabbing your hips.

You nod helplessly, "Feels so good."

He kisses you again, harder this time as he holds you in place on his lap. "I know what would feel even better," he says huskily.

He reaches for the button of his slacks and you bite your lip, a few nerves building now. You pull away from him ever so slightly as he begins to undo his pants.

"Um, Charles," you nearly whisper, waiting for a response you don't get.

You watch with heavy lidded eyes and parted, pouted lips as he pulls his straining cock from his briefs. You almost feel frozen for a second before one of his hands comes up and buries itself between your thighs. You yelp, squeaking at the touch.

"Charles, I don't know if we should-"

"Oh, sweetheart, don't worry," he hushes you. You gasp with a tremble and a light moan as his deft fingers slide up and along your clothed sex. You tilt your hips as he feels along your cunt and don't stop him when he moves your underwear to the side.

His eyes are trained on your face, he watches as it contorts with the beginning sparks of your pleasure under his touch. His dick is throbbing, on the verge of starting to leak for you.

He can't wait any longer, he's waited so long already. He needs to have you around him. Needs to feel your warmth envelope him and your weight as you sit on him. He doesn't even need to go all the way with you - not tonight. He just wants to feel you.

His tongue slips past his pillowy lips as he grips himself with one hand, guiding his red tip to your tight, slick entrance. He presses against you but you slightly back away - still unsure.

"I just want to feel you, angel. That's all. I promise. Just need you to sit down and that'll be it. Just sit right here and keep me warm for a bit. You can do that, can't you, darling?"

A sigh of relief escapes you as you slacken a bit into him. You can do that, you decide. You nod your head and bring one of your hands to his shoulders. He presses against you again and this time you move into him. You whine at the sting of his intrusion as he helps ease you down onto his length a little at a time. When you are fully seated, you drop your head into the crook of his neck as one of his hands rubs your back.

"Fuck, doesn't that feel nice?" he asks, voice breathy. You only nod against him as your walls stretch around his cock, squeezing him every so often.

"Yes," you huff, "Oh, it feels so nice, Charles."

He pulls you from his neck, brushing his nose against yours as he brings you face to face with him again.

"I knew we'd be a perfect fit," he smirks, kissing you hotly as you press yourself closer to him, returning his kiss.

"I said the guest room was yours, but there's room enough for two in my bed if you'd rather," he simpers.

"I think I just might rather," you whisper with a smile against his lips. You move to sit up but are immediately pulled back down onto his cock. You moan deeply at the movement, the drag of his length along your walls and the way your walls work to keep him inside of you. To be fair, you aren't the most experienced woman in the world, but the feeling of him is unlike anything you've ever felt before. You are entirely full of him and you fear you won't want to ever go empty again.

"Not just yet, sweetheart," he laughs, holding you down. "We aren't even halfway through the movie yet. And we have all night before we take this upstairs, angel. I want to make sure this is a Christmas we'll always remember."

#charles blackwood x curvy!reader #charles blackwood x reader #charles blackwood #charles blackwood fic #charles blackwood smut #charles blackwood fluff #sebastian stan characters #charles blackwood x you #charles blackwood x y/n

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sunnyie-eve · 4 months

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26 | Privacy

Series: Significant

Paring: Colby Brock x Original female character

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.7k

| MASTERLIST |

Sam and Colby were filming a truth or strip video out in the hot tub while Penelope was up in her room looking for something. "I swear to god." She heads downstairs going out back to interrupt them. "Hey, Brock! Did you take something of mine because I can't seem to find it. I need kinda need that folder tomorrow for my meeting with important people." She walks over to the hot tub.

"Maybe I did..." He smiles.

"Well where is it? I want to get things ready."

"We're almost done. Now, Sam continue." Colby ignores her as she stands there with her arms crossed.

"Okay, tell me this Mr. Brock, single man. Who's the last person you kissed in the mouth hole?" Sam asks him.

"Well, just for the same privacy reasons, my pantalones are coming off."

"You can't say it." Sam smiles.

"I can't, dude. If I release that private information the other person might get a little pissed off." Colby tells him and Sam had no idea who was the last person Colby kissed.

"I'll find it myself. You boys have fun." Penelope says gonna go to Colby's room to look for it.

"Thank you, Love you!" Sam shouts at her.

"Love you too. Not you Colby." She shouts going inside.

"That's rude." Colby looks at the camera.

Penelope searches Colby's room and couldn't find the folder anywhere, "Okay, I get that he doesn't want the others to find it but come on." She huffs looking around trying to think where else to look.

Lifting the mattress nothing, checking the closet shelves nothing, and under couch cushions nothing. Penelope throws her head back plopping down on the couch waiting for him to come into his room. So when he finally does he laughs at how she still hasn't found it.

"Where the hell did you hide my folder?" She asks him annoyed.

"Close your eyes. I'm not giving up my hiding spot." He tells her so she just does what he tells her to do and he gets the folder for her.

"I hate you." She takes it from him.

"No you don't." He kisses her, "Do you ever have moments where this feels a bit awkward and you forget we're together now?" He stares into her eyes.

"Yeah, I'm still not used to us." She nods her head with a smile, "Now, don't take my stuff." She pats his chest leaving his room. As soon as she walks into her room she sees Sam in there waiting for her, "Can I help you?" She laughs.

"Yes, you can. I wanna do a video with you. Like different parts, Q&A, Truth or Dare, and 2 truths 1 lie." He tells her as she puts her folder away for tomorrow.

"Sure. I don't know why you were waiting in here like a creep." She laughs at him.

"I don't know, I just did." He chuckles as they go to his room and he sets up while she sits on his bed watching him. "You excited for our trip coming up?" He asks to make conversation.

"Yeah, I like going on trips that have you and Colby together. For example, if I wasn't hurt and stuff for the trip to Japan, I wouldn't have gone because you weren't gonna be with Colby." She tells him.

"Aww, I feel loved." He smiles causing her to laugh at him. "What's up guys? Today I'm here with Penelope and we are going to do a few things like Q&A, Truth or Dare, and 2 truths 1 lie. I think this is gonna be fun for us. We know each other very well so hopefully we can come up with things that will stump us." Sam starts.

"I think we can. We don't know every little detail of each others lives so..." Penelope laughs, "So is our Q&A just questions for each other?" She asks him.

"Yeah, die hard questions for each other. Ladies first." He rubs his hands together.

"Damn, okay. What was your first impression of me?" She says the first thing to pop into her mind.

"My first impression of you was that you were really reserved, but I could tell you also had this other side to you with people you were close with. So when we got put together for that project I was happy to get to know you a bit more. Then much more happy when I became friends with Colby since you were best friends with him." Sam answers her, "Okay, this is a good one. If you had to date either Colby or I, who would you choose?" He laughs.

"I can't say you because you're taken so that means by default I would have to date Colby." She smirks.

"That's not... Okay, if I wasn't dating Katrina and the three of us are in High School." He makes it more specific.

"In high school then I would've dated you over Colby. We already had this conversation remember. I said I would've picked you if I knew and not Tyson." She laughs, "Next question; this is just funny honestly. Why do you think Colby doesn't have a girlfriend?" She laughs.

"Why?" He cracks up, "Because he's a scaredy cat with one girl but it's his choice." Sam says honestly, "Do you ever plan on moving out to live alone?" He asks her.

"I mean someday. Hell, we all will. We each have our own lives and when we're much older." She tells him.

"Okay, let's move on to truth or dare. Three rounds so do you want to do dares or lose clothes?" Sam asks her.

"I'm wearing enough to take shit off so I don't care." She tells him.

"Next round guys... Penelope who do you think is the most attractive guy in the house?" He laughs.

"Are you serious? That's your first question for me? I'm taking my sweater off." She shakes her head at him. "Sam, what's one thing you dislike about me?" She smiles.

"Really? I don't have anything though."

"You have to say something." She waits.

"I know you can't just stop it but I dislike how insecure you are even when we tell you don't be." He makes a face.

"That's fair. I agree with you for myself." She tells him.

"Okay, who do you dislike the most in your family?"

"Richard." She answers quickly, "So does Harper and Colby. I don't care." She shrugs.

"Me too." Sam agrees.

"Richard is my stepfather just so you guys know." She makes clear, "Sammy boy, what's one thing you would change about Kat?" She laughs.

"Well, goodbye shirt." Sam takes it off, "I wouldn't change a thing about my girlfriend. She's perfect the way she is." He smiles, "Penelope, I'm not gonna be nice on this last one. Who's the best kisser out of all the guys you've ever kissed?"

Penelope glares at him, "Not Tyson I'll say that." She takes her top off leaving her in a lace cami bralette. "He kissed like he was trying to swallow your face."

"I can only picture that now." Sam laughs making her slap him, "I can imagine who the best was." He smirks making her grab his pillow to slap him with it. "Just give me my last question."

"Okay..." She thinks so Sam just smiles at her, "What girl do you find attractive in your entire friend group excluding your girlfriend." She smiles back.

"I don't wanna be left in my boxers so..." Sam sighs.

"How will Kat feel?"

"She would agree with me and that's why I say you. Plus you're a model and you're a natural when I see what comes out." He answers her then they continue to the next round.

"Okay, 2 truths and 1 lie... Gotta think of things you don't know about me. Okay, my favorite time of year is Halloween, my favorite color is yellow, and my favorite person in the house is Aaron." Penelope gives Sam three things.

"I thought it was Christmas, I'm not sure about yellow, and you prefer Aaron over Colby or I. I'm Not sure about that last one though. I know you prefer him at times but I think that's the lie." He locks in his answers.

"No, I hate yellow. I prefer Aaron because he gives me space compared to everyone else." She laughs.

"You were my first kiss but I lied my whole life about it, me and my family are super competitive, and I prefer you over Colby."

"That's the lie. No way you prefer me over Colby." She laughs.

"That's correct." He rolls his eyes.

"I've seen my dad twice after he passed away, I'm in a secret relationship at the moment, and I'm allergic to shellfish."

"I've never see you eat any shellfish. I think o would know if you were in a secret relationship. And do you mean like ghost?" Sam asks confused.

"Yeah." She nods her head.

"You know me and being skeptical but I believe you. I'm gonna say you're not in a secret relationship. That's my answer." Sam sighs.

"Nope, I'm not allergic to shellfish. And no, you're not allowed to know who I'm seeing. Nobody in the house knows." She smiles.

"Last one. If Kat and I were to break up you'd be first to know, I have a favorite sibling, and I like your mom more the Colby's mom."

Penelope thinks for a second, "I don't think you have a favorite sibling."

"So you a hundred percent believe I like your mom more than Colby's" Sam chuckles.

"Yeah, everyone loves my mom."

"You were right. I hate you can pick out the lie. Okay, that's all for today. Thank you guys for watching. Make sure to like, comment and subscribe. See you next time." Sam ends the video.

"Okay, now tell me who you are seeing." He crosses his arms.

"No, we don't want to be public right now. He doesn't want to be shown." She slightly lies.

"Colby!" Sam goes across the hall, "Did you know Penelope is in a secret relationship?"

Colby looks at Penelope behind Sam, "Umm no I didn't but why are you shirtless and you're in a bra?" Colby points out.

"Oh, we were doing a video and truth or strip was part of it with other little games." Sam explains not caring.

"Okay, but back to the dating... You're seeing someone?" Colby plays along.

"Yes, I am but no you guys aren't going to get anything out of me. He/ we want to be private. Plus I don't want you scaring him away." Penelope looks at Colby.

"That's a fair point." Sam leaves the room while the secret couple smile at each other.

#sam and colby #colby brock #sam golbach #katrina stuart #jake webber #corey scherer #elton castee #tara yummy #colby brock imagine #colby brock ff #colby brock fanfic #best friend #friends to lovers #tfil

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oh-shinx · 8 months

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⚡BZZT BZZT! THE FOLLOWING FOOTAGE HAS AS BEEN BROUGHT TO YOU USING AUTO-ROTO-FILM! [Auto-Roto-Film and it's affiliates are not responsible for accidental shared recordings.] BZZT BZZT!⚡

Révolution.mp4

⚡VIDEO DESCRIPTION!⚡

The camera opens following behind Rosie at a very public market street in Laverre. She taps on the shoulders of two noticeably exhausted people in their forties, the Gagnon parents. Anger briefly flashes on both of their faces before they try to bring back composure.

Mr Gagnon starts hissing. "Au nom de la distorsion, qu'est-ce que tu penses faire, Lu-"

Rosie immediately turns to the camera and, in her usual strong Kalosian accent and a volume that actually matches her exclamation marks for once, cuts the grown man out.

"Bonjour!!!!!! Hello world!!!!!!!!!!!!! My name is Roserade DesViolettes, formerly Sidérella Gagnon, and I am coming to you live with proof that I am not dead!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! What do you have to say to that, mother and father??? Use your words, Galarian style!!!!!! It is how best to spread the word, correct????"

The Gagnons are stumped. The matriarch tries to save it with "We never had an eldest daughter."

"Oh, you did!!!!!! You know you did!!!!!!!!!! And what happened when you found out??? Take a look at this!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Rosie takes off her jacket, revealing her back from the dress she is wearing. A massive scar that's obviously tried to heal but never has is revealed.

"I asked you to call me Sidérella then!!!!!!!!! I remember now!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And now, I face chronic pain from this and many other mistreatments!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

There is a crowd starting to gather.

"So tell me, did you really have a son??? Did you really raise an oddly mature boy just to break him more than you already had???? Or is there a woman in front of you?????"

.......

After a moment of silence, Antoine turns to violence, only for his hand to be met by Rosie's. "What do you want from me, you freak of nature?" He says through grit teeth.

"I will make you a deal," Rosie grins, but takes a more serious tone, "If you drop out of every political race, I will take an issue off of you both. I do get to choose what issue, though. Otherwise, I take this recording to court and it becomes much harder for you to have any respect."

The parents are baffled. There's an obvious choice here. "Fine," grumbles Antoine, "I will drop out of all runnings, honour of Xerneas at stake."

"....... Care to shake on it????" Rosie reaches hands to both, which they both take.

Thundering magic pulses through the market. Rosie starts glowing pink.

"I make this deal. In return for you being unable to enter a political position, I shall take custody over Luminéon Gagnon."

The two pricks go slack jawed at that, but it's too late, as Rosie says:

"Such is life, ever in the eyes of Xerneas."

And with that, the deal is set.

"You- you cannot do that... She's our property..." Claims the patriarch.

"Actually, issue can mean child, looking at a Galarian law dictionary. Thank you for playing along with this language!!!!!! See you in court to finalise this, and I will get the stuff of Lumi later today!!!!!!!!!!!! Bye!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

The camera turns off.

#rosie reenacts the kalosian revolution!!#pokeblogging #pkmn irl #pokemon irl #irl pkmn #pkmn rp #irl pokemon #pokemon #tw transphobes #tw abuse

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steven1123x · 2 months

Text

A Half-Gem Boy’s Adventures In The Creek; Chapter two

🌳⭐️💎🌳⭐️💎🌳⭐️💎🌳⭐️💎🌳⭐️💎🌳

A portal opened up by their new house, A pink lion jumped out carrying a brown-skinned girl with black eyes, she wore a white polo shirt and gray jean shorts, she also wore white Converse. The girl dismounted from the lion and petted him, Lion looked at the girl, yawned, and fell asleep.

The girl — Connie Maheswaran looked at her phone, she got the right address. She saw that Greg's van was parked in the driveway, Connie then knocked on the door.

Steven was playing his GameCube in the living room, he was playing Super Smash Bros with his dad.

“Beat you again!” Steven said, Greg smiled as he ruffled his fluffy hair. A knock was heard again, Steven got up, ran to the door, and opened it. He froze when he saw his friend standing there, the Lion in the background now chasing a butterfly.

“Connie!” Steven said as he hugged her, Connie hugged the boy back and smiled.

“Steven!” she smiled, then broke the hug, they held hands for a few seconds and let go. “Connie…” he said, trying to find words. “W-What are you doing here? I thought you were training or something!”

Connie moved some of her hair out of her eye and smiled. “Well, I asked Pearl to take the day off today, so I decided to go to Maryland on Lion,” she said, Steven smiled, he wanted to jump for joy at that moment! Steven had missed his best friend, Steven grinned, and then A long-haired man in a tank top and shorts walked up, and he had a smile on his face.

“Hi, Mr. Universe!” Greg waved.

“Aren’t you supposed to be heading out to the Creek, kiddo?” Greg asks.

Connie was now interested, she talked with Steven about the Creek over the phone but she had never seen it in person, she wanted to meet all of Steven’s new friends he’d made over the last two days coming here.

“Let’s go!” Steven said Connie and Steven went out of the house, Steven got on Lion’s back, and So did Connie. Steven guides Lion to the Creek, Connie’s eyes widen as she sees a forest filled with trees and well — A creek. They stopped at The Traiding Tree where Kit was trading snacks and other things to kids.

“Steven….” she breathed, not believing what she was seeing. There were kids of all shapes sizes and ages. Connie dismounted and walked to The Trading Tree following Steven.

“Hey, Steven!” Kit smiled. Steven smiled and waved, he got two items out of his pocket — A topper toy that he’d got at the bottom of a cereal box, and a small toy truck he’d found at the creek.

“Alright, Steven. What would you like?”

“Do you have Cookie Cats?” Steven asked. They’d stopped making them in Beach City, but he wondered if they had them here.

“Yes, I do!” Kit said, Steven’s eyes lit up as she opened the cooler and grabbed two packs of Cookie Cats. Steven thought he was dreaming when he saw the ice cream sandwich-shaped cat in his hands. Steven handed the other one to Connie. Steven opened the wrapping and took a bite.

“This is SO GOOD!” he yelled out. Then Steven sang his cookie-cat song.

"Oh, he's a frozen treat with an all-new taste

'Cause he came to this planet from outer space

A refugee of an interstellar war

But now he's at your local grocery store

Cookie Cat

He's a pet for your tummy

Cookie Cat

He's super duper yummy

Cookie Cat

He left his family behind

Cookie Cat!”

Kit and Connie both laugh as Steven eats more of his ice cream. Its strawberry and vanilla flavor with the chocolate sandwich cookies was just perfect. Steven ate his Cookie Cat, and Connie did as well. Steven and Connie then went to The Stump so she could meet Craig and the rest of his friends.

“Hey guys! Meet my friend from Beach City, Connie!” Craig smiled and waved.

“Hey, Connie!” Craig said.

“Good day, Connie!” Kelsey said, sharpening her ‘sword’

“Hi, I’m JP!” the boy in the large T-shirt said.

Lion walks up to them, Craig gasps and smiles. “Is that Lion!” he asked excitedly. Connie and Steven both nod, Craig amiled.

“Welcome to the Creek, Connie and Lion!” JP said, walking up to Lion, and petting his pink mane. Craig was concerned. Steven saw him. “Don’t worry, Craig. Lion is nice, he won’t bite you guys, JP is petting him," he said

Craig walked over to Lion put a hand up to his mane and petted him, Craig smiled as Lion looked with a blank stare on his face, he then licked Steven, and Steven laughed and hugged him. Craig did feel much more comfortable now that Steven was doing it. Craig went towards him and petted his mane.

“He’s so soft…” JP said. Kelsey nods.

🌳⭐️💎🌳⭐️💎🌳⭐️💎🌳⭐️💎🌳⭐️💎🌳

Steven, Craig, JP, Kelsey, Omar, and Connie were all on the Other Side Of The Creek, Connie stared at a large tree that said 'The Candy Bar.’ written in cursive. Steven and his friends went in, Lion was about to go in but Steven petted him. “Lion, you can’t go in. I don’t know how Raj and Sawn feel about animals in here.”

Lion just looked at him, went down, and rested his paws on his chin. Steven smiles and pets him. They go inside. Connie saw that an electric guitar was placed with a drum set, piano, and microphone.

“Hey, Raj!” Steven said.

“Hey, Steven! Are you going to sign up for the Candy Bar Concert?” Steven smiled, he walked to the bar and picked up the clipboard, attached to it was a pencil, and he wrote his name down. Craig went next, then JP. Kelsey, Connie, and Omar were left and they put their names down. Then the songs that they were going to pick.

Steven, Craig, and JP were going to do a song, then Omar, Kelsey, and Connie. Steven looks at Raj and asks him to give him some water. “When is this concert starting?” Steven asked.

Raj smiled, cleaning a glass. “It’s going to start in a few minutes. Sit and have something to drink.” Steven nodded as Raj handed him a glass.

“Thanks, Raj,” he said, Raj smiled. Connie looked at Steven as he drank his cup and ate his candy.

Just then, Shawn walked up to the microphone and started talking into it. “Kids of the creek! we would love to announce. Our first-ever concert here at the Candy Bar! And the first ones to come up are Craig, JP, and Steven!” the boy said.

They were all on different instruments, Craig was on drums, JP and Steven were on guitar, and Steven was in front of a microphone.

“Go, Steven!” Connie said, smiling. Steven, Craig, and JP start playing the song.

"…Hey, Miss Murder, can I? (Hey!)

Hey, Miss Murder, can I? (Hey!)

Make beauty stay if I take my life? (Hey!)

Woah-oh-oh

… With just a look, they shook

And heavens bowed before him

Simply a look can break your heart

… The stars that pierce the sky

He left them all behind

We're left to wonder why

He left us all behind

… Hey, Miss Murder, can I? (Hey!)

Hey, Miss Murder, can I? (Hey!)

Make beauty stay if I take my life? (Hey!)

Woah-oh-oh

… Dreams of his crash won't pass

Oh, how they all adored him

Beauty will last when spiraled down

… The stars that mystified

He left them all behind

And how his children cried

He left us all behind

… Hey Miss Murder, can I? (Hey!)

Hey Miss Murder, can I? (Hey!)

Make beauty stay if I take my life? (Hey!)

Woah-oh-oh

… What's the hook, the twist within this verbose mystery?

I would gladly bet my life upon it

That the ghost you love, your ray of light

Will fizzle out without hope

… We're the empty set just floating through

Wrapped in skin

Ever searching for what we were promised

Reaching for that golden ring, we'd never let go

Who would ever let us put our filthy hands upon it?

… Hey, Miss Murder, can I? (Hey!)

Hey, Miss Murder, can I? (Hey!)

Make beauty stay if I take my life? (Hey!)

Woah-oh

… Hey, Miss Murder, can I? (Hey!)

Hey, Miss Murder, can I? (Hey!)

Make beauty stay if I take my life? (Hey!)

Woah-oh”

Raj smiled and walked up to the stage once more as Steven and JP both put the guitars down on the guitar mounts and walked off, Connie hugged Steven. “Have fun, Connie.”

“Thanks, Steven,” she said.

“Let me introduce you to the stage, Kelsey, Connie, and Omar!” Connie picked up the guitar and strapped it on, Kelsey did the same. JP sat at the drum set and picked up the sticks. Omar walked up to the microphone and they started to play.

"I got your picture, I'm coming with you

Dear Maria, count me in

There's a story at the bottom of this bottle

And I'm the pen

When the lights go off

I wanna watch the way you take the stage by storm

The way you wrap those boys around your finger

Go on and play the leader

'Cause you know it's what you're good at

The low road for the fast track

Make every second last

'Cause I got your picture, I'm coming with you

Dear Maria, count me in

There's a story at the bottom of this bottle

And I'm the pen

Make it count

When I'm the one who's selling you out

'Cause it feels like stealing hearts

Calling your name from the crowd

Doesn't that mean you'll be the showgirl of the home team

I'll be the narrator

Telling another tale of the American dream

I see your name in the lights

We could make you a star

Girl, we'll take the world by storm

It isn't that hard

'Cause I got your picture, I'm coming with you

Dear Maria, count me in

There's a story at the bottom of this bottle

And I'm the pen

Make it count

When I'm the one who's selling you out

'Cause it feels like stealing hearts

Calling your name from the crowd, whoa

Ha, ha

Take a breath, don't it sound so easy?

Never had a doubt, now I'm going crazy

Watching from the floor

Take a breath and let the rest come easy

Never settle down 'cause the cash flow leaves me

Always wanting more

'Cause I got your picture, I'm coming with you

Dear Maria, count me in

There's a story at the bottom of this bottle

And I'm the pen

Make it count

When I'm the one who's selling you out

'Cause it feels like stealing hearts

Calling your name from the crowd

'Cause I got your picture, I'm coming with you

Dear Maria, count me in

There's a story at the bottom of this bottle.”

The kids cheered for them, Steven took a video on his phone and then sent it to Pearl. Pearl texted him back, saying that this was amazing. Steven smiled and wiped some tears from his eyes.

Connie ran off stage and hugged her best friend. “That was so good, Connie!”

“I liked yours too, Steven!”

Steven smiles.

🌳⭐️💎🌳⭐️💎🌳⭐️💎🌳⭐️💎🌳⭐️💎🌳

Steven, Connie, Craig, Kelsey, JP, and Omar were all hanging out again. Connie didn’t have to go on missions with the gems so she was able to hang out with Steven and his friends at the creek all week — or maybe the whole summer if Pearl allowed it.

Connie, Craig, Kelsey, JP, Omar, and Connie all went back to Steven’s house. they were going to play on Steven’s GameCube in the living room. Steven gave Connie a house tour. When they got to the living room Connie saw his mom’s portrait hanging on the wall. “Steven, isn’t that the picture of your mom?”

Steven nodded.

“Yeah, why?”

“It looks nice hanging up in your house,” she said. Steven smiles.

“Thanks.”

“Okay guys, what games should we play?” Steven asked, picking up the controller and a handful of games.

“Sonic! I want to go first!” Said Craig. Steven handed him the controller, selected it to the right input and they played a game of Sonic The Hedgehog together.

🌳⭐️💎🌳⭐️💎🌳⭐️💎🌳⭐️💎🌳⭐️💎🌳

A/N: Hi guys! thank you for reading part one of this fic! Here is part two. I am going to work on part three as soon as possible, and how did you like Connie meeting the creek kids, i think it was a lot of fun to write! Well, see you in the next one!

#steven universe #comment #like #repost #craig of the creek #craig williams #kelsey pokoly #jp mercer #omar #fanfiction #steven universe and craig of the creek #don’t let this flop #writers on tumblr

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f10werfae · 2 years

Text

Mr. Evans and Dodger

Pairing: Chris Evans x Vet!Reader

Warnings: Slight mentions of animal abuse

- Requests are open!

Likes, Comments and Re-blogs are appreciated♥️

Library of Chris Evans: Chris Masterlist✨

Fae Station: Full Masterlist💫

New Taglist‼️ Taglist form: So you don’t miss any of my posts ♥️

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

(Chris' P.O.V)

“I don’t know man, our last vet was so heavy handed that I don’t think I can trust another stranger with Dodge again” I complained to Henry, sitting backstage with our glasses drinking right after we presented our awards

“Was it really that bad lad?” Henry inquired, his face grimacing.

“Yeahh saw her hit other dogs a few times and kick 'em. Reported her and got outta there, now I’m stumped” With my arms crossed over my chest, my head went back laying on the headrest of the chair, silence filling the room between us.

“I know someone if you need one”

“Yeah? Who? And how do ya know I can trust them?” I met his eyes, watching his face turn into that of a smile.

“Well I have a cousin, she’s a fully qualified vet and she’s working out of Los Angeles, want me to set you up?”

“I- yeah why not, won’t do any harm to give her a go”

(2 Weeks Later)

“Alright Dodge, you’re gonna meet the nice lady and she’s gonna take care of ya alright?” I reassured Dodge, well actually I think I was more reassuring myself at this point.

The clinic had a nice homely vibe, candles were lit along with soft lullaby-like music playing.

“Dodger?” I heard a soft voice call out, a woman shorter than me with the face of an angel. Her hair fell perfectly, and her cheeks glowed a blush.

“H-here” I cleared my throat walking over, handing her the leash as I followed them into the examination room.

“So you’re the guy Henry sent over?”

“Uh yeah, I’m Chris” I said putting out my hand which she shook, “i’m Dr. Cavill, but just call me Y/n”

“And you must be Dodger, what a good boy” She cooed taking Dodger’s face in her hands and booping his nose, his tail behind him wagging happily.

“So it’s just a regular check up today then?”

“Mhm that would be amazing” Y/n led me over to a seat where I could watch everything clearly, Dodger wasn’t even paying me attention anymore, his eyes were fully trained on Y/n. Can’t blame him.

“So do you act as well? Sorry I don’t tend to keep up with a lot of things”

“Uh yeah, jus small things here and there” I smiled, finally a person who wouldn’t bombard me with crazy accusations or rumours.

“What about you? What made you move here to the States?” Her touches were so gentle towards Dodger, anytime she’d accidentally be a bit harder than usual she’d apologise with the care of a mother.

“Well to be honest it was the job opportunities, obviously I don’t plan on being in LA permanently but i’d like to move somewhere quieter”

“Boston?”

“Is Boston quiet Mr. Evans?” She asked with a smirk on her face, still fully focused on Dodger’s check up.

“Yes it is”

“You grew up there?”

“Born n' raised sweetheart”

“Don’t suppose this is your way of sayin' you want me to move closer to ya?”

Her tone teasing, a smile constantly on her face, her eyes finally meeting mine before sending a wink.

“Hmm may be”

“Take me on a date first, then we’ll see” Finally taking off her gloves she stood up, giving Dodger a final kiss on the head, picking him up and handing him over to me.

“Thank you for this, really. N' I would love to take you out for dinner”

First time i’ve asked someone out in so long, the same butterflies erupting in my stomach, or in fact even more butterflies than normal.

“My shift ends at 6:30, I'd really like to see you again too, and Dodger of course”

“GREAT! I mean uh great see you then Y/n”

“Bye bye Chris, and Dodger”

(Y/n's P.O.V)

“What a hottie” I said to myself watching as Chris carried Dodger out of the clinic, my heart going 100 miles an hour at the thought of our date tonight

#romance #chris evans imagine #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans #chris evans oneshot

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the-gay-loser · 17 days

Text

This Story Took Me Three Years!

May 10 1779 Wednesday

The rolling hills around Jockey Hollow are green with patches of wildflowers. Yesterday after our lessons, the girls and I put away our journals then dashed out of the hut. Robert came, too. We ran through fields, over a creek, and up a slope. We just felt like running! When we reached headquarters, we heard commotion coming along the road. Horsemen and soldiers were cheering “Lafayette!” came the shouts. “Huzzah!” “Huzzah!” We each jumped upon a tree stump, hoping to see we only got a quick glimpse of his face and his red hair when he waved at us

May 11 1779 Thursday

Today I went to headquarters, when I got in Ms. Washington was cooking “good morning Abby! How about you eat with us today, we have a new guest!”

I knew who she meant and I was happy to meet him again. After breakfast Lafayette introduced himself “i don't think we properly introduced i am Marie-Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier the Marquis de Lafayette it is a pleasure to meet you” “ same here my name is Abigail Jane Stewart” then we heard Washington say “Marquis where did you go i need your opinion on this battle strategy” Lafayette bowed at me “i hope to see you again Miss Stewart au revoir” i must say he is quite a kind man and i hope to see him again to

May 19 1779 Wednesday

I went to headquarters again today because i had to drop off a letter to Mrs Washington i was secretly hoping to see Lafayette when i got in there the generals were all eating Mrs Washington was sitting next to her husband when i looked around I didn’t see Lafayette Oney came up to me and asked “can i help you dear” “oh…uh I have this letter for Mrs Washington” “i will take it dear” i walked back to the tents puzzled: why wasn’t lafayette there, did he leave already?

May 20 1779 Thursday

I came to headquarters again cause Mrs Washington invited me for tea,

Mrs Knox was waiting “hello Abby come in and sit Mrs Washington will be here soon” upstairs I heard horrible coughing. I must have had a confused look cause Mrs Knox said “poor thing, hopefully he’ll get better soon” “who?” “Lafayette, poor thing caught a terrible fever been coughing and wheezing all day and yesterday to” that's why I didn’t see him yesterday he didnt leave he’s sick “ahh Abby you're here, sorry to disappoint you but we might have to cancel this meeting i don't know if Mrs Knox already told you but Lafayette has a terrible fever poor thing and worst of all he feels bad i keep telling him it's fine but he won’t stop saying sorry” i left feeling sorry for him

May 23 1779 Sunday

I told mama she said “we should bring him something” we spend all day trying to convince the soldiers to go steal eggs flour milk and butter from farmers so we could make butter bread Sally and Mazie stole one mama wasn’t to happy she might of thrown a wooden spoon at sally once or twice

May 24 1779 Monday

Today i went to headquarters, to give the biscuits to Lafayette Mrs Washington let me go up to see him cause she said he should be asleep I walked upstairs and entered the room I walked over and but the basket on the table bye his bed I turned and couldn’t stop string he looked so adorable with his fever flushed cheeks and his long hair falling down his face I couldn’t help but tuck the loose hair behind his ear he moaned and his eyes flickered open he opened his mouth to speak but a coughing fit hit him he groaned and shut his eyes again I told him he not speak or it would drain his energy further he moaned again and grabbed my hand squeezing it I sighed he was delirious I set a wet washcloth on his forehead and headed downstairs i said my quick goodbyes and left

May 30 1779 Friday

Ok if i don’t write this down I’ll explode with joy, so it was a regular day I was doing laundry with mama and Mrs Lulu while Sally and Mazie played i was about to hang something when i heard horse hoofs i was pretty sure it was the general he always does check-in’s on the soldiers but the hooves stopped at our tent then I heard mama “thank you and you feel better” i knew who it was i almost yelled Lafayette was at our tent a major general at our tent i walked over pretending i didnt know he was here “oh hello again” i said, he smiled but this time he seemed really happy “do you feel better?” I asked of course he said “yes, thank you for that bread it was heavenly”

I felt myself blushing. I couldn’t stop. He smiled, of course Sally asked “can i pet your horse” either he has kids at home or he doesn’t want to be rude “but of course” he said then this spiraled into a tornado of questions “what is it like in France? Do you have a family? Are you married? Do you have kids? Do you have more pets? Do you know Mr and Mrs Washington?” He answered all of them which I thought was humanly impossible. But it answers my questions here are the answers

What is it like in France: well it's nothing like America

Do you have a family: sadly my mom and dad died before i was 13

Are you married: yes

Do you have kids: yes

Do you have more pets: yes lots more but all of them are back in France

Do you know Mr and Mrs Washington: Yes Mr. Washington is my commanding officer, and Mrs. Washington helped take care of me when i was sick

Then he bowed and rode off i was starstruck he was kind with my mom and answered all of the questions my sister asked and let her and Mazie pet his horse he didn’t even care that Mrs Lulu and Mazie are black, but i knew that him and Mr. Washington are really close and wanna something cool diary he had both pants pulled up so i could see a musket ball scar i wanted to ask but i knew it was rude my candle is Burning out goodnight diary

June 1779 Monday

Me and sally walked over to headquarters today and wow it's hot i was sweating like crazy, before i go in i rub my forehead with my dress, everyone was drinking wine and cheering Lafayette was sitting with Mr. Washington i could see Washington laughing while Lafayette smiled suddenly Oney popped up next to me “there sweet aren’t they lafayette is one of the only generals that make him laugh” i looked back she was looking at me i didn't know what to say but luckily Sally saved me “Abby we have to go back to the camp” before i left i waved to lafayette he waved back i didn't know that was gonna happen Washington looked over at me and smiled that was the first time i saw him smile at me.

June 10 1779 Wednesday

Today lafayette wrote to me and asked if i wanted to come to headquarters cause his was “bored out of my mind” i came over but before i could go inside i heard this “Miss Stewart over here” i didn't consider that we would walk around jockey hollow together but it was nice we talked about our family’s and our life’s it got late and he walked me back to camp kissing my hand before he left

June 11 1779 Thursday

Today i came by just for fun, when i came everyone looked sad Lafayette had his head in hands Mrs. Washington was patting him on the back she asked me to grab a handkerchief for Lafayette i did and he picked up his head his eyes where red and his face was pale he was trying to catch his breath Mrs. Washington nodded to the kitchen and we both walked over there “what going on?” “Lafayette’s oldest daughter Henriette passed away a year ago poor thing had just got the letter” as i was walking back i thought to myself:

1: lafayette was on a boat for 2 months and then hiked through snow

2: he got a terrible cold

3: and know he just lost his oldest daughter

Can things get any worse for him?

July 12 1779 Tuesday

I went over to check on Lafayette only to find he wasn’t at headquarters I walked around trying to find him until I finally saw a figure sleeping against a tree I walked over and sure enough it was lafayette he was sound asleep against a giant oak tree I got a little nervous when i saw that he was a slight bit more pale but i walked over to him and shook him a bit he startled and then opened his eyes he say me and instantly shot up like a bullet “Miss Stewart to what do i owe the pleasure I smiled and told him I was looking for him he smiled and sat back down we talked for awhile sometimes he would pause a swallow down what i expected to be a sob I told he didn't have to hid it he instantly let multiple teardrops fall from his face and all i did was wrap my arms around him and pull him into a tight hug

July 13 1779 Wednesday

My fathers division is now under command of Lafayette finally more time to see a dear friend. He is based in a brick house a few miles away. Sally and Mazie have been doing stick races on the frozen lake

January 1 1779 Thursday

Lafayette has been riding back and forth from Washington’s camp and whenever he returns he looks stressed. I haven’t been able to see him a lot but he smiles whenever he sees me.

January 21779 Friday

Oh diary i am writing while crying tis why there are wet spots on these pages I can’t write about it know

July 16 1780 Saturday

Ok, diary time to write about last night.

As I said in my entirety on Thursday Lafayette rides back and forth from Washington’s camp to his, well yesterday he went out again. I heard a rumor about him having a violent headache but he looked fine when he left. Well after an hour of him gone people started to worry so we sent a scout to go see if he was ok so when he comes back asking for a wagon we all yell “Mrs. Washington is coming with friends” but i didn't cause the man looked concerned well when he came back and no one was in the wagon we all put our heads down Mrs.Washington Wasn’t coming but then the man called for a doctor we all panicked looking for anyone well sally and Mazie found one sleeping they shook him awake no one knew who it could be but i think i knew and it hit me like a bullet to the heart when i saw reddish hair it was lafayette he passed out on his ride there and when the scout saw him and no horse he panicked that why he wanted blankets and a wagon the doctor got over and first checked his palm for a heart beat lucky he told everyone his heart was beating but very faintly he was shivering and looked horrid the doctor asked Capitan Sherman Locks to help carry lafayette in side to the hearth where he could warm up next the doctor asked for an assistant and picked me when i got in i was assigned to put a hot rag on his head. for a job that sounded so simple it pulled on your heart strings he would moan and shut his eyes tight and squeeze my hand which made me know he was still living which was a good sign but when he was squeezing and his hand loosened i panicked i called for the doctor but he didn’t hear me i got so stressed i fainted when i awoke i was on a chair someone must’ve put me there but when i saw lafayette rubbing his head my world lit up he was alive when i stood he said “ahh your awake”

“How are you?” I asked “good, but my head feels like it was hit by a carriage” I laughed and he joined me then From the other room “Miss Stewart, is he awake?” “Yes, sir he is” the doctor walked over a put his hand on Lafayette’s head “ow” said lafayette The man shook his head “General Lafayette, I am afraid you might be dying” tears poured down me face i shook my head and ran out I don't know what Lafayette said but I bet he was as scared and sad as me

January 17 1778 Sunday

I told Mama,Sally,Miss Lulu,and Mazie every single one of them started to cry the word spread fast people started to pray and some started to make a coffin i couldn’t make my body move i was so upset all of a sudden I started to feel scared really scared like i lost all the protection i had gained i realized that i was scared because being around lafayette made me feel safe.

January 18 1778 Monday

I got a letter from headquarters today i asked around i was the only one to get it i lit a candle outside and opened the letter: “Dear Adrienne” oh no it was for his wife but i really wanted to read it so I copied the letter in this diary and then sealed it and told myself to sneak to the mail pile in headquarters here diary but lets keep this our little secret

Dear Adrienne, this hard to write as my hand trembles at the mere thought of it but i have came down with a fever and when the doctor examined me he said i might be dying although i may have committed many errors and pushed your heart to its limits

I don't want you to grief for i do not believe this doctor and i will live until i am back with you adieu my dear adieu oh diary i wish i had a husband like that

January 19 1778 Tuesday

Well today was a sad day. It was the day of goodbyes and farewells. I was last in line when It was my time the man said “I can’t let you pass, General Lafayette needs his rest.” Then we heard from the other room “Know Jacob, does that seem fair?” It was Mr. Washington. Washington walked over and leaning heavily on his shoulder was…Lafayette Oh i was so happy to see him he did not look any better but oh diary how his face lit up when he saw me “Miss Stewart it is a true pleasure to see you again” Mr. Washington said “same here sir” he nodded then after i prayed for Lafayette and wished him heath I went back to camp when I got back I asked mama “why didn’t Lafayette talk to me?” She answered and both of them i didn't like

1: “well either he was sad and grieving and just disappeared into himself i did that when David died”

2: “ he's too sick to talk and his in need of very serious care and help”

January 20 1778 Wednesday

Today was a weird day, the doctor told me to come over and care for Lafayette, cause the he had to go see more patients, so I went over expecting to find him sleeping or resting, but instead he was at a desk, piles of letters around him he seemed fine so i sat down on a chair at the dining table. Then I heard a moan and walked over to find him head in hands and grimacing. I walked over to him and put a hand on his shoulder as he lurched away. I stood in shock for a second and then gently spoke into his ear “hey…let's get you up into bed” he nodded and i helped him up the stairs once I finally had him in bed I went back downstairs to continue cleaning

January 21 1778 Thursday

I came over today and he was sleeping I started to cook and then called to him “Lafayette, i made some soup do you want some” when i got no answer i went over and found him eyes shut and breathing heavily, i panicked the first thing that popped in my head was to go get my mom, i ran as fast as i could my mom dropped her spoon and ran with me first thing she did before we went was she told one of the volunteers to go get the doctor, when we got in my mom walked over and picked up his head and felt his forehead before the doctor came in, when the doctor came in he said the heavy breathing was because his body was fighting pain i took a deep breath at least he wasn’t losing breath, when the doctor left after waking lafayette up and helping him walk upstairs the doctor asked if i could stay for a while i asked him why he said he might die any minute at the word i burst into tears my mother walked over “my daughter will not see the man who she is friends with die” the word die was said to many times for my brain to count i started to lose count my legs go all nub and i fell to my knees head in hands and cried why him why my mom helped me outside and to our campsite Mazie and Sally were playing and when Sally saw my tears she ran up to me and hugged me i hugged her back she was a good sister

January 30 1780 Wednesday

I have had a weird few days, well a weird hour because almost an hour ago I was asked to see take care of Lafayette (he didn't die yet) when I got inside I went up to his room where was staring at the ceiling “how are you?” I asked he just moaned “who made you mister depressed” he chuckled at that but it caused him to start wheezing i sat him up so he could breathe better “Merci Beaucoup Miss Stewart” I couldn’t stop crying he looked at me puzzled “what’s wrong?” “I’m scared for you” I couldn’t hold my self back anymore “Your one of my best friends and I honestly care about you and you don’t deserve to die like this, your wife needs you, your kid needs you…America needs you. He looked me in the eyes and smilied “trust me Miss. Stewart I will fight to my last breath” he held open his arms and I jumped into them and hugged him then I heard quiet snores I laughed he fell asleep in my arms. I let go and tucked him in and kissed his forehead “I have no doubt” and I walked out of his room feeling like my old self.

February 2 1780 Saturday

I was sitting by the fire when an officer came over and handed me a letter. Curious and confused, I opened it. It read: Hello Miss. Stewart, I am sorry to contact you on such short notice but Lafayette has developed a horrible fever and if we don’t get his temperature down he might die. I know that this is on such short notice but I need you to come back to Fish Kill. He keeps asking for you and is refusing help from anyone else. Yours Truly Martha Washington (P.S If you accept this offer I will have a carriage sent for you personally.) Lafayette was asking for me, the poor girl who made food and cleaned the soldiers' old smelly clothes. There was no hesitation. I wrote back immediately . Dear Mrs. Washington, I would be honored to come back to Fish Kill and help Lafayette. To be honest I have become quite attached to the young french man thinking of him as my brother. I would be delighted if I could help in anyway I could. Is it true he is asking for me specifically. Sincerely Abigail Stewart. The next day I got a letter back from Mrs. Washington. Thank you so much Mrs. Stewart! I will have a carriage sent right away and yes, he has been asking for you specifically.

February 10, 1780 Sunday

A carriage arrived the very next day to escort me back to Fishkill. As I sat inside, the wheels rattling over the uneven terrain, my heart pounded with a mixture of fear and determination. Lafayette needed me, and I was determined to do whatever I could to help him.

Upon arriving at Fishkill, I was greeted by Mrs. Washington herself, her face etched with worry. Without wasting a moment, she led me inside the grand estate, where Lafayette lay feverish and weak.

Entering Lafayette's room, I was struck by the sight of him lying in bed, his face flushed with fever and his breathing labored. Mrs. Washington explained that despite their best efforts, they had been unable to bring down his temperature.

Taking a deep breath, I approached Lafayette's bedside, my hands trembling with apprehension. He stirred at the sound of my footsteps, his eyes fluttering open to meet mine.

"Abby..." he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

I took his hand in mine, feeling the heat radiating from his fevered skin. "I'm here, Lafayette," I said softly, willing my voice to remain steady despite the fear that threatened to overwhelm me.

For hours, I sat by Lafayette's side, bathing his fevered brow and offering words of comfort as he drifted in and out of consciousness. Despite his weakened state, his spirit remained unbroken, his determination to fight evident in the steely resolve that flickered in his eyes.

As the hours stretched into days, Lafayette's condition began to improve, thanks to the tireless care and attention of Mrs. Washington and the skilled physicians who tended to him. His fever gradually subsided, and color returned to his cheeks, a welcome sign of his strengthening resolve.

Throughout it all, I remained by Lafayette's side, offering whatever support I could. In those quiet moments by his bedside, I came to realize the depth of the bond that had formed between us—a bond forged in the crucible of adversity and strengthened by shared moments of fear and courage.

And as Lafayette finally emerged from the shadow of illness, his spirit renewed and his strength restored, I knew that our journey was far from over. Together, we would face whatever challenges lay ahead, drawing strength from each other and the unbreakable bond that bound us together.

February 15, 1780 Friday

As the days passed, Lafayette's strength continued to return, much to the relief of everyone at Fishkill. With each passing day, his fever subsided further, and his appetite slowly returned. The once pale and weakened Lafayette began to regain his color and vitality, a testament to his resilience and determination.

I remained by Lafayette's side, offering companionship and support as he recovered. We would spend hours talking about everything from our hopes and dreams to the challenges we had faced during the war. Lafayette's spirit was indomitable, his optimism contagious, and in his presence, I found solace and strength.

Despite the hardship he had endured, Lafayette remained steadfast in his commitment to the cause of liberty. His passion for freedom burned bright within him, a guiding light that inspired all who knew him.

As Lafayette grew stronger, he expressed his gratitude for my presence and unwavering support during his illness. He thanked me for being there for him when he needed it most, and I could see the sincerity in his eyes.

In those quiet moments together, I came to cherish the bond that had formed between us—a bond forged in the crucible of adversity and strengthened by our shared experiences. Lafayette had become more than just a friend; he was like family to me, and I was grateful for the opportunity to stand by his side.

And as Lafayette continued on the path to recovery, I knew that our friendship would endure long after the war had ended. For in the midst of darkness, we had found light, and in each other, we had found the strength to persevere. Together, we would face whatever challenges the future held, knowing that as long as we stood united, nothing could break our bond.

February 25, 1780 Monday

As Lafayette's recovery progressed, a sense of normalcy began to return to Fishkill. The tension that had gripped the estate during Lafayette's illness slowly dissipated, replaced by a renewed sense of hope and optimism.

Lafayette's presence was like a beacon of light, lifting the spirits of all who crossed his path. His laughter echoed through the halls, his infectious energy infusing the estate with newfound vitality.

Despite his recent brush with death, Lafayette remained as determined as ever to continue the fight for liberty. He spoke passionately about the future of America, his vision of a nation united by freedom and equality inspiring all who listened.

I found myself drawn to Lafayette's unwavering optimism and boundless enthusiasm. In his company, I felt a sense of purpose and belonging, as if I were part of something greater than myself.

As the days turned into weeks, Lafayette and I grew closer, our friendship deepening with each passing moment. We shared laughter and tears, dreams and fears, finding comfort in each other's presence.

And as spring approached, casting its golden glow over the rolling hills of Fishkill, I knew that a new chapter was beginning—one filled with promise and possibility.

For Lafayette and I, the journey was far from over. But with courage in our hearts and hope in our souls, we faced the future together, ready to embrace whatever adventures lay ahead.

And as we stood side by side, gazing out at the horizon, I knew that no matter what challenges may come our way, as long as we had each other, we could overcome anything.

March 3rd, 1780 Saturday

A shadow hangs over the estate—a shadow casted by the specter of illness that once again gripped Lafayette.

It began with a slight cough, barely noticeable at first, but soon it grew into a persistent wheeze that wracked Lafayette's frail frame. Despite his best efforts to conceal his suffering, it was clear to all who knew him that something was terribly wrong.

As the days passed, Lafayette's condition deteriorated rapidly. His once vibrant energy waned, replaced by a pallor that spoke of deep-seated sickness. His cough grew more violent, each rasping breath a painful reminder of the frailty of human life.

Despite the best efforts of the physicians at Fishkill, Lafayette's fever raged unabated, burning like a wildfire within him. His strength waned with each passing day, his spirit dimming like a candle in the wind.

I remained by Lafayette's side, offering whatever comfort and support I could, but it pained me to see him suffer so. His once bright eyes now dulled with pain, his voice reduced to a mere whisper as he struggled to draw breath.

In those quiet moments by his bedside, I prayed for a miracle—a glimmer of hope to pierce the darkness that threatened to consume us. And miraculously, it came.

Despite the dire prognosis, Lafayette's condition began to improve. His fever broke, and color returned to his cheeks as his strength slowly returned. It was a testament to his resilience and determination, a testament to the indomitable spirit that had carried him through so many trials before.

As Lafayette's health improved, so too did the mood at Fishkill. The once somber atmosphere gave way to a sense of cautious optimism, as we dared to hope for a brighter future.

And though Lafayette's recovery would be slow and arduous, we knew that with time and care, he would emerge from this ordeal stronger than ever before.

As I sat by Lafayette's side, watching over him as he slept, I felt a profound sense of gratitude wash over me. Gratitude for his resilience, for his courage, and for the unwavering friendship that had sustained us through the darkest of days.

And as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting its golden rays over the peaceful landscape, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, as long as we faced them together, there was nothing we couldn't overcome. For in the bonds of friendship and the resilience of the human spirit, we found the strength to endure, one day at a time.

April 20, 1780 Saturday

Despite the budding beauty of the season, a sense of tension hung heavy in the air—a tension born of the ever-present threat of danger that lurked just beyond the horizon.

One fateful day, Lafayette embarked on a reconnaissance mission to gather crucial intelligence on enemy movements. His departure filled us with a sense of unease, for we knew all too well the perils that awaited him on the battlefield.

Days turned into weeks, and still, there was no word from Lafayette. Each passing day brought with it a sense of mounting dread, as we waited anxiously for news of his fate.

Then, one stormy night, a rider arrived at Fishkill, bearing grave tidings. Lafayette had been gravely injured in battle, his condition critical. Without hesitation, we rallied to his side, determined to do whatever it took to save him.

As we journeyed to the battlefield, the sounds of cannons and muskets grew louder, a cacophony of chaos that served as a grim reminder of the horrors of war. But amidst the chaos, there was a glimmer of hope—a hope that Lafayette would emerge from this ordeal alive and well.

Finally, we reached the battlefield, where Lafayette lay wounded amidst the carnage of war. His face was pale, his breathing shallow, but his spirit remained unbroken. With trembling hands, we carried him to safety, praying for his swift recovery.

Back at Fishkill, we tended to Lafayette's injuries with the utmost care, each of us doing our part to ease his suffering. But as the days passed, it became increasingly clear that his injuries were more severe than we had initially feared.

Lafayette had sustained multiple gunshot wounds, each one more serious than the last. His condition was critical, his very life hanging in the balance as we fought tirelessly to keep him alive.

Despite the pain, Lafayette remained resolute, his determination to overcome his injuries serving as a source of inspiration to us all. But as the days stretched into weeks, his strength began to wane, his once bright spirit dimming like a flickering flame.

And yet, even in his darkest hour, Lafayette refused to give up hope. With each passing day, he fought bravely against the odds, his unwavering courage a testament to the indomitable human spirit.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Lafayette's condition began to stabilize. Though the road to recovery would be long and arduous, there was a glimmer of hope on the horizon—a hope that Lafayette would emerge from this ordeal stronger than ever before.

And as we watched him slowly regain his strength, we knew that though the scars of battle would always remain, they served as a reminder of Lafayette's bravery and sacrifice in the fight for freedom.

As spring gave way to summer, the war continued to rage on, but with Lafayette by our side once more, we faced the challenges ahead with renewed determination. And though the road ahead would be long and fraught with peril, we knew that as long as we stood together, there was nothing we couldn't overcome.

August 10, 1780 Sunday

With the arrival of fall, a sense of rejuvenation swept through Fishkill, breathing new life into the estate and its inhabitants. The once barren trees began to bud, and vibrant wildflowers dotted the landscape, painting the hillsides with splashes of color.

Lafayette, now fully recovered from his illness, seemed to embody the spirit of renewal that permeated the air. His energy was boundless, his enthusiasm infectious, and everywhere he went, he brought with him a sense of hope and optimism.

As the days grew longer and warmer, Lafayette took to exploring the surrounding countryside, eager to immerse himself in the beauty of nature. He would often invite me to accompany him on his walks, and together we would wander through meadows and forests, lost in conversation and laughter.

During these moments of tranquility, Lafayette would share stories of his homeland, regaling me with tales of France and his family. I found myself captivated by his words, transported to a world far removed from the chaos of war.

But amidst the beauty of spring, reminders of the ongoing struggle for independence were never far away. News from the front lines brought both triumph and tragedy, as the tide of battle ebbed and flowed across the countryside.

Yet, even in the face of adversity, Lafayette remained steadfast in his commitment to the cause. His unwavering resolve served as a beacon of hope for all who fought alongside him, a reminder that victory was within reach if they remained united in their pursuit of freedom.

And as we stood together beneath the clear blue skies of spring, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, as long as we faced them together, there was nothing we couldn't overcome. For in the bonds of friendship and the promise of a brighter tomorrow, we found the strength to endure, one day at a time.

March 28th, 1780 Saturday

Even with spring now blooming into full splendor, the war raged on, its echoes reaching even the tranquil sanctuary of Fishkill. The distant thunder of cannons served as a constant reminder of the sacrifices being made on the battlefield, a reminder of the price of freedom.

But amidst the chaos and uncertainty, there was a sense of unity and purpose that bound us together. Lafayette's presence at Fishkill served as a beacon of hope, his unwavering dedication to the cause inspiring us all to persevere in the face of adversity.

Together, we worked tirelessly to support the troops, providing aid and comfort to those in need. From sewing uniforms to tending to the wounded, each of us played our part in the fight for liberty, fueled by the belief that a better future awaited us on the other side of the struggle.

And as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, a sense of anticipation began to build. Rumors of impending victory spread like wildfire, igniting a spark of hope in the hearts of all who longed for peace.

Then, one fateful day, news arrived that the war had come to an end. The long-awaited moment had finally arrived—the dream of independence had become a reality.

Amidst the jubilation and celebrations that swept across the land, Lafayette stood tall, a symbol of resilience and determination. His unwavering commitment to the cause had helped pave the way for victory, and his legacy would forever be enshrined in the annals of history.

As the sun set on the battlefield, casting its golden rays over the hallowed ground, I stood beside Lafayette, gazing out at the horizon. In that moment, amidst the quiet beauty of the evening, I knew that a new chapter was beginning—a chapter filled with promise, possibility, and the enduring hope of a brighter tomorrow.

And as we looked towards the future, hand in hand, I knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, as long as we faced them together, there was nothing we couldn't overcome. For in the bonds of friendship and the triumph of the human spirit, we found the strength to build a better world—one step at a time.

#marquis de lafayette #fanfiction #Hamilton #OC #3 Years #Seriously please read

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spirallingstarcases · 10 months

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personally i think ur allowed to list patrick stump and patrick stumph as separate ppl on the top 5. love & light <3

ur so right

this is patrick stump ⬇️

and this is patrick stumph ⬇️

and i’d top both of them

#two completely different people #ofc #spi.answers #anon #mr stump the man you are today

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sirowsky-stories · 2 months

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The Flowers Always Know

Chapter 9 - Spaghetti Fixes Everything

Description: Working at HQ wasn't just challenging, it was threatening to completely burn you out after just the first few days. Of course, it didn't help that you were so stressed you forgot to eat most days.

**Beware! Author chooses NOT to display warnings on the individual chapters of this story. Read at your own risk!**

Rating: Mature 18+ONLY Word Count: 4657 (1649 words added) Masterlist (this story)

The weeks passed way too quickly after that. You couldn’t understand how the clock reached 8pm so damned fast every day, you never seemed to be even halfway done with your tasks, even though you arrived a half-hour early and worked at least three hours late every single day, including weekends. As if you’d been dropped into a black hole, and time had gotten warped, no matter how many hours of work you put in, it never seemed to add up to anything.

You’d quickly learned two things on your first day. One, that your predecessor had left so abruptly he hadn’t even cleaned out his little wardrobe. And two, he had not kept his house in anything resembling order. How the man had been able to get anything done, at all, astounded you. There was no order or structure to be found in his wake, and when you’d complained about it to Mrs. Moreno a couple of days later, she’d completely stumped you by saying:

“Yes, well, now you understand why I wanted you to take it.”

You’d sort of frozen in place right in the middle of transferring a file from one stack to another, with the shock of realizing she’d actually paid you a sideways compliment, but then she’d immediately ruined the moment by adding:

“So, stop dilly-dallying and get that mess sorted out already.”

You’d felt a lot less guilty about calling her horrid, then. That was about two weeks ago. Or was it three? Shit, what day was it now? You genuinely had no idea.

Marcus had tried to stay in touch with you, popping his head in whenever he passed by your office, and calling or texting if he hadn’t found or seen you in too long. While he was technically still working in the field, he didn’t go on every mission, electing to oversee and direct things from the control centre instead. So, most days he was just a few floors and corridors away.

But you just never had the time to actually talk to him. When he stopped by, you were almost always heading out, or on the phone, or in a meeting. And while you always answered his calls and texts, the replies were short and mostly just apologetic. And since you always worked late, and got up extra early, there wasn’t really any free time to just hang out either.

In short, thus far, you were not very happy with your job.

But today had been the worst one yet. You’d been in meetings all day, not even having enough time to squeeze in a tea-break in between, much less lunch. You’d also managed to piss off two reporters, damned near broken your toe when you’d bumped into a railing, walked straight into a poor assistant on his way to deliver a bunch of documents to someone, sending them flying across the hallway, and just when you’d given up and decided to call it a day, the fucking phone rang.

You had just gotten out of the chair and put your jacket on. Ten more seconds and you would’ve been close enough to leaving that you wouldn’t have bothered to answer the damned thing. But you did. And to put the cherry on top of this disaster of a day, the person calling was a designer friend of yours who you’d reached out to for help on a project involving the supers’ children.

He was calling to let you know that unfortunately, despite already being a week into it, he wouldn’t be able to do it. There’d been a family emergency, and he had to pull out. Which effectively meant you’d have to start over. And of course, that project was the one thing with a deadline which simply could not be pushed. Andy had been your first choice to help you with this, and you’d been so thrilled when he’d agreed, because you knew he’d understand what you were looking for.

You’d been tasked with creating something like a gym-hall for the powered kids at the local schools, because they needed physical exercise as much as the next kid, but they could so easily hurt the normal children. But of course, the budget wasn’t great, and Management wanted you to do as much as you could with existing buildings and materials. And that’s where Andy had sprung to mind, because he was a genius when it came to material and repurposing.

But this was also why you were now in serious trouble, since no one could do what his mind was capable of, and Management was expecting your proposal within the next week. The clock was already after 6pm when you got the call, and since you’d gotten used to working until eight or nine, you decided you might as well get started on trying to salvage this right away, rather than go home and still not be able to sleep because you’d be stressing over it.

You took off your jacket and sat back down with a heavy sigh, then reached into your desk to retrieve the project file. It was thick and heavy and slammed down on top of your desk with a thud. You opened it to the first page and started to look over what would have to be scrapped, and what could possibly still be utilized, already knowing you weren’t gonna be out of the office until past your bedtime, with such a thick folder to get through.

So, hunched over your desk, leaning on your elbows with your head resting against one palm, tired, starving and completely engrossed in the papers in front of you, you never heard the light knock on the door, or when it clicked open and then closed again. You didn’t notice the slight ruffle of clothes, or the presence of another person in your space, you just wanted to get this done so you could go home and crash.

But you did notice the warmth of his arms as they came around you from behind and pulled your back into his chest and didn’t let you go again. You noticed his breath on your neck before he kissed it, slowly and ever so softly. You noticed when he pulled you up and out of the chair and turned you around so that he could hug you properly.

The file and the problems which were stacked a mile high on your shoulders, all disappeared when he brushed his lips against yours and that heat instantly flared somewhere in your chest and abdomen. You made no attempt to control yourself, at all, letting your exhausted body decide for itself what it wanted right then, resulting in what you could only describe as another attack.

The heat surged through you until every single inch of you felt red hot. You kissed him with every bit of passion and desire you were capable of, while your hands made their way to his belt and tugged his hips closer. And he responded in kind, lifting you up on your desk and parting your legs with lightly quivering hands. You were wearing a skirt today and he pushed the fabric back all the way to your groin, before settling himself flush against you, letting you feel his arousal.

And damn, did he feel good.

He broke the kiss to allow you both to breathe, and nuzzled into your neck, but when he felt you flex your hips against him, he growled and lightly bit your shoulder as his hands started squeezing and massaging their way along the outsides of your thighs.

“Hermosa… if we keep this up for much longer, I don’t know if I can uphold my promise to take things slow,” he cautioned, with an unexpectedly feral vibration to his voice.

“Mmh… You started this,” you retorted, receiving another growl as you ran your tongue along his jawline, tracing back towards his mouth to kiss him again.

“Sweetheart…” he tried again, after very reluctantly pulling away from your lips, “Either ask me to stop now, or this office will be christened in bodily fluids in a moment.”

For a few seconds, you were confused, because surely, you’d somehow been transported to a bedroom by now. That was where your head was at… But no. A quick glance around revealed the mental image to be fake, and the dull cappuccino-coloured walls and sound absorbent ceiling to be the reality you were still mercilessly trapped in. And that killed the mood like sand poured over a campfire.

“Okay. Stop,” you grumbled, disappointed to have to leave the fantasy.

He instantly pulled back and loosened his grip on you, but kept his hands on your thighs, and your hips close together, possibly to hide his very obvious erection from anyone happening to walk in. Like Anita… For a minute, you just looked at each other’s blown pupils while trying to calm your breathing down, then he smiled.

“Hi. How was your day?” he politely inquired, trying to distract himself most likely, but he couldn’t have chosen a worse question.

“Ugh… If you ever need to quell my desires, trust me, that’s all you need to say.”

And you weren’t kidding. The frustration, exhaustion, stress and general feeling of inadequacy slammed down on you like a concrete slab, and suddenly you felt impossibly heavy. He noticed the shift in your energy and took his hands off your thighs, snaking them around your waist instead. He stared intently at you for a beat, and you could almost see his mind working to try and figure out which level of exhaustion would lead you to say that.

“Oh, preciosa. You’re trying too hard. Ask for help, delegate, don’t try to do it all by yourself.”

“I do delegate, Marcus. Fuck, some days all I do is delegate!” you exclaimed, throwing your hands in the air with hopelessness. “But that asshole, Turner, left behind a bigger mess than anyone even realized, so no matter how much I get done, there’s always another fifty problems left. And now Andy bailed on me, which means I have to start all over again on the schools, which of course has the shortest deadline of everything I’m working on, and which was the one thing I thought was handled. I really don’t know what more I can do?”

You sagged against him, resting your forehead on his chest, wanting so badly to cry but you were somehow too spent even for that.

“I can’t do this. I’m so tired,” you whimpered, and he started softly running his hands over your back again.

“Why do you think I have sofas in my office? Naps are your friend, my dear,” he hummed, but you scoffed at that.

“I haven’t even had time to eat today, when exactly am I supposed to-…”

“What do you mean, you haven’t eaten?” he cut you off with a dead serious look and his voice was suddenly sharp against the quiet of the room. “Since when?”

Taken aback by his sudden shift in temperament, it took you moment to remember you were supposed to reply, and then you had to try and recall when exactly you’d last eaten something.

“Uh… Yesterday, around 7pm, I think. I ordered something. No wait, that was the day before…” you fumbled, genuinely unable to remember, and the Heroic was apparently most displeased with this.

“Ne creo en mis oidos…” he said, in a tone you interpreted to be incredulous.

You had no idea what the phrase meant, but he sounded almost angry as he untangled himself from your legs and reached for your jacket. Sitting there on your desk, you couldn’t help but shrink a little at the thought that he was probably angry with you, even if you didn’t understand why. And you were so exhausted that even such a small thing was enough to make you want to run away, when you would have normally just challenged him.

“Come on, hop off the desk, you’re coming with me,” he declared then, holding the jacket out for you so you could just slip your arms into it once you were off the table.

“I can’t just leave all th-…”

“Sweetheart, I admire your loyalty to your work,” he brusquely cut you off, “but get your ass off that desk right now.”

Not even bothering to ask why or where you were going, you simply did what you were told, and he slipped the jacket on you and led you out of the building, having to help you stay upright by keeping an arm around your waist the whole way to his car. You dozed in and out of sleep as the vehicle hummed its way along the roads, having no idea where he was taking you. But at some point, you must have fallen asleep for real, because you woke up to the passenger side door opening, and him reaching over to unbuckle you.

“Hey, we’re here. Come on,” he beckoned, and when you looked out in front of the car, you saw a house which wasn’t yours, but didn’t think any more of it as you forced yourself to get out of the car and let Marcus drag you to the front door.

“Hey, dad. You’re late,” a voice called out as soon as you stepped inside.

“Hey, sweetie. I know, I’m sorry, but I had to help a friend,” he answered just as the person the voice belonged to came skipping into the front hall.

Oh… His house, of course. Where else would he go at the end of the day? His daughter. Possibly the most adorable human being you’d ever seen. If only you’d had the strength to greet her as politely and warmly as she did you.

“Welcome to Casa Moreno. You’re the first woman my dad has ever brought here, I’m very impressed,” she smiled and winked at you, and you so wished you could’ve played along.

“Missy,” her father cautioned, but half-heartedly at best, and his daughter knew it.

“What?” she countered, sounding innocent but defiantly crossing her arms, daring him to try and deter her from enjoying what was apparently a rare moment for these two.

“She’s exhausted, and I’m pretty sure she hasn’t eaten in anything between twenty-four to forty-eight hours, so just be nice, please.”

“I am being nice; it was a compliment,” Missy tried to deflect, feigning absolute innocence, but it got her nowhere.

“Don’t even try that with me, young padawan. Go set the table,” he ordered, before following her into the kitchen where he raided the fridge for leftover spaghetti and meatballs.

You couldn’t help but smile at them as they continued bantering while they worked. But you got so lost in their lovable conversation that you didn’t even remember to ask if you were invited to sit down, and after a minute, the room started getting darker. Which was odd because the sun had already set, hadn’t it? Still, it kept getting darker, until you realized it was all in your head. But by then you were already falling.

You woke up to an extremely worried Marcus fidgeting with wet towels and… Was that a blood-pressure machine? Then, out of nowhere, you suddenly felt completely panicked. You practically bounced up to sitting on what was apparently their living-room sofa, and immediately scrambled yourself into a tiny ball in the furthest corner of it. Your entire body was shaking with fear, but you had no idea why.

“Dad… What’s wrong with her?” Missy whispered from the other end of the sofa, and she sounded so worried.

“It’s okay, sweetie, she’s just scared,” he tried to reassure her, but she was a smart girl, and this had apparently truly rattled her.

“Of what? She was fine a minute ago.”

“I’ll explain later,” he said, meeting her eyes so she’d know he meant it, but also using the moment to move back and give you more room before he tried to reach past your fears. “It’s okay. I promise you’re safe. You’re not trapped, you can move, you can talk, you’re not lost in the darkness. You’re right here… with me.”

His honey-soft voice soothed you, making you wonder how he could know exactly what to say to help you? How did he know it was the darkness that had scared you? You hadn’t even realized it yourself until he’d said it. At those last two words, his current came flowing through you, and it was like a balm, moving through your nerves, coaxing them to relax.

“Hermosa,” he finally whispered, not with expectation or pressure, but as though the word was an invitation for you to have a safe haven within him.

Willing your body to move again, you crawled towards him, and he helped you by meeting you halfway and then hugging you so tightly.

“It’s okay, hermosa. You’re safe, I promise,” he mumbled into your cheek, and you tried to stop yourself from shaking but it didn’t work.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened,” you cried, still too tired for the massive cry that was still clawing around inside your chest, looking for a way out.

“You just got lost. We all do sometimes.”

“What’s wrong with me?” you asked, your voice breaking with too many emotions to name.

But Marcus pulled back to look at you then, and there was something very reassuring about how much he seemed to believe in what he said next.

“How many times do I have to tell you, sweetheart? Surviving what you did was impossible. Did you really think something like that wouldn’t stay with you? There’s nothing wrong with you. Being afraid of things that have seriously hurt you isn’t wrong, it’s wise. You were trapped in darkness for a long time, feeling helpless and weak. It’s only natural for you to be scared when faced with those same sensations again.”

There was nothing wrong with his logic, you just couldn’t understand where the depth of his insight was coming from.

“But… how did you know that that’s what I was feeling?”

“I was with you all the way, remember? I saw every stage of your recovery. Every hurdle, every obstacle, and every victory, big and small. I know you,” he said, shifting one hand up to your face to catch the tears as they finally began to fall.

If you’d had a crush on him before, you were now certain that you absolutely loved this man. And you really wanted to tell him about it, but perhaps not in front of his daughter, still standing by the end of the sofa, when he clearly hadn’t told her about you yet. Not that there was much to tell, it wasn’t like you’d even been on a single date yet, you’d just… made out. You sighed and closed your eyes, leaning your cheek into the comforting warmth of his palm. This really had been a terrible fucking day.

“Hey, you still have to eat something, or you’re gonna collapse again,” he gently reminded you, while beginning to rise.

You let him help you to your feet and over to the kitchen where he sat you down at the table before getting back to re-heating the leftovers. Having fully expected Missy to keep a safe distance after watching you have a breakdown, you were quite surprised when she brazenly came to sit next to you instead, plopping down in her chair as though this had been the most normal, inconsequential evening ever.

“So, you’re the one,” she pondered, but with that cleverness children had to their tone when they were equal parts curious and sure about what they already knew.

“Huh?” was all you responded, confused by the notion that she would know anything about you.

“The one the mad scientist… hurt,” she elaborated, and it sounded like that little pause was her catching herself before saying something else.

It made you wonder how much she might understand about what had been done to you, and whether what she’d been about to say might’ve been something like “tortured” or “killed”, either of which would’ve been technically accurate, but perhaps harsher to hear. The mere fact she’d stopped herself said a lot about her maturity and sensitivity towards others, and it softened something inside your chest as you listened to her continue to explain.

“Dad wouldn’t tell me too much about it, but I read some articles and I saw a few of the news reels,” she confessed, quietly, in the hopes her father wouldn’t overhear and scold her for circumventing his efforts to protect her from the horror of it. “And he did tell me how you were so sick no one knew if you’d ever wake up. And then when you did, he said he needed to help you because he seemed to be the only one who could. He wasn’t home much for those few months.”

She finished on a thoughtful note, but it made you terribly sad and regretful. You’d known that Marcus had needed Anita’s help to look after her while he’d helped you, but you’d had no clue of how extensively he’d been absent. Now that you thought about it, though, you could remember countless evenings of his diligent efforts, never hesitating to keep working well past his regular hours if he felt it was needed. All for you. Which made it feel like your fault.

“Oh… Missy, I’m sorry.”

“No, no, that’s not what I meant!” she hurried to correct you, and you felt like it was important to her that you understood this. “It’s not your fault, of course it isn’t. What I’m trying to say is, I’m really glad all his efforts helped you in the end. Cause dad… Well, he was so sad all the time you were in the coma, until he started being able to help you, and then it was like… he came alive too. It means a lot to him, you know. That you made it.”

Her father had his back to the two of you, while he worked on the leftovers, so you couldn’t see his face. But you were close enough that he should’ve heard most of this conversation, and something about the stillness of his movements told you he had, and that it was probably affecting him deeply.

“I couldn’t have done it without him,” you replied, a little louder to be sure he heard it, before turning your full attention back to his daughter. “And I’m sorry you had to see me freak out like that before. I’m not normally this… fragile.”

“It’s okay. We’re all allowed to have bad days, right?” she chirped, and you chuckled, but entirely without humour.

“Yep. I just wish I could have a good one someday soon. Or I think I might really break.”

You’d turned sombre and serious again, and if anything, you’d have expected her to not know what to say to that. But contrarily, her eyes brightened, and a sly smile filled her face.

“I’m sure my dad can help you with that too,” she grinned, actually cocking an eyebrow at you as she got up from the table.

She then skipped over to a flabbergasted Marcus, the poor man too flustered to know how to react, hugged him goodnight and then disappeared down the hall, having already had her dinner at a reasonable hour. You watched her disappear down the body of the house, realizing with both joy and dread, that you already loved his kid as well.

“Um, I’m really sorry about-… She’s nev-… I’ve never seen her behave like this before,” he stammered once she’d left, clearly seriously rattled by Missy’s not so subtle attempt at matchmaking.

“Don’t worry about it. I think she’s amazing,” you reassured him, and he threw a nervous glance over his shoulder, visibly relaxing when he saw the earnest smile in your eyes.

You wondered if some part of him had been anxious about the two of you meeting, or thought you might not like her, for some inexplicable reason. Which then made you think it was possible he hadn’t just not brought any women home before, but possibly not even gone on a date since the loss of his wife. Because you couldn’t think of any other reason he’d be so nervous about all this.

Once he’d recovered, he brought the plates over and all but ordered you to dig in, while he did the same. You didn’t really feel all that hungry anymore, mostly you just wanted to sleep. But with each delicious bite it was like your body began to remember it actually needed this stuff, and you ended up helping yourself to another large serving. Which Marcus heartily approved of.

“Now, that’s the appetite I’m used to seeing with you,” he grinned. “Feel better?”

“Loads,” you admitted, noticing how a full stomach seemed to have made so many of your troubles seem a lot smaller.

You leaned back in your chair once the last bite was swallowed, holding your glass of water and taking slow sips, when he reached out and took your other hand, resting on the edge of the table.

“Hey. You can’t skip meals. I don’t care how hard you’re working, without fuel you will crash, that’s just a fact,” he admonished, and you stared at your empty plate, feeling like a kid being scolded for skipping class.

He squeezed your hand, looking for a response and when he didn’t get one, he pushed his chair back and turned his whole body towards you.

“Look at me, hermosa,” he demanded, and you did.

“You. Can. Do. This,” he articulated, believing every word himself. “Find a way to do it on your terms. Find a way to make the tasks fall in line behind you, don’t let them try and climb onto your back and stack themselves on top of you. Force Management to hire you your own assistant if that’s what it takes. You’re stronger than this, I know you are. Stop trying to shape yourself into a manager and start making the manager shape itself from you. My hermosa doesn’t let a fucking job dictate her life.”

Yes, everything he said was good and made you want to believe it. But in the end, all you really registered was one thing.

My hermosa.

You put your glass down and leaned over to kiss him, and for the first time, you didn’t lose control. You just kissed him. Warmly, lovingly, with your hands on his cheeks. And he just kissed you back. With no demands, no expectations. But as much as you loved the intimacy and the comfort of being so welcomed by him, your body had been fed a huge meal and all remaining strength was now being rerouted to handle all that nutrition.

He noticed how limp you were getting even before you did, and quickly helped you to your feet before you fell asleep at the table. Then he practically carried you to a bathroom, where you found some extra reserve of strength to brush your teeth and use the toilet, before he brought you to a bedroom. There, you flopped down on a soft and cool bed while he took off your shoes and helped you get under the covers.

“I’d ask if you want me to help you undress, but I might get ideas,” he whispered while he pulled a few errant strands of hair back from your face.

You could hear the smile in his voice, and you wanted to say something clever in return, but you were only seconds from unconsciousness by then, so all you could manage was a less than sexy grunt. The last thing you were aware of before you succumbed to the blissfulness of sleep, was his lips brushing against your temple, and a whisper to sleep tight.

#marcus moreno fanfiction #marcus moreno x female reader #marcus moreno x reader #we can be heroes fic #we can be heroes au #au fic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfiction #sirowsky stories #superhero stories

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docrotten · 3 months

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THE H-MAN (1958, BIJO TO EKITAI NINGEN) – Episode 173 – Decades Of Horror: The Classic Era

“What if by some bizarre phenomenon, his physical form just melted away? Would that fit your crime scene?” Hmm … bizarre phenomenon? Let’s run with it. Join this episode’s Grue-Crew – Daphne Monary-Ernsdorff, Doc Rotten, and Jeff Mohr along with guest host Chris Peters – as they discuss Toho’s The H-Man (1958), directed by the great Ishirô Honda.

Decades of Horror: The Classic Era Episode 173 – The H-Man (1958)

Join the Crew on the Gruesome Magazine YouTube channel! Subscribe today! And click the alert to get notified of new content! https://youtube.com/gruesomemagazine

ANNOUNCEMENT Decades of Horror The Classic Era is partnering with THE CLASSIC SCI-FI MOVIE CHANNEL, THE CLASSIC HORROR MOVIE CHANNEL, and WICKED HORROR TV CHANNEL Which all now include video episodes of The Classic Era! Available on Roku, AppleTV, Amazon FireTV, AndroidTV, Online Website. Across All OTT platforms, as well as mobile, tablet, and desktop. https://classicscifichannel.com/; https://classichorrorchannel.com/; https://wickedhorrortv.com/

When a narcotics dealer disappears, leaving only his clothes, Tokyo police are stumped. A scientist claims H-Bomb tests in the Pacific have created radioactive creatures – “H-Men” – who ooze like slime and liquify anyone they touch.

Directed by: Ishirô Honda

Writing Credits: Takeshi Kimura (written by); Hideo Unagami (story)

Produced by: Tomoyuki Tanaka

Music by: Masaru Satô

Cinematography by: Hajime Koizumi

Editing by: Kazuji Taira

Production Design by: Takeo Kita

Special Effects by: Eiji Tsuburaya (director of special effects)

Selected Cast:

Yumi Shirakawa as Chikako Arai, singer in the nightclub

Kenji Sahara as Dr. Masada

Akihiko Hirata as Inspector Tominaga

Eitarô Ozawa as Police Sgt. Miyashita (as Eitaro Ozawa)

Koreya Senda as Dr. Maki

Makoto Satô as Uchida, gangster

Yoshifumi Tajima as Detective Sakata

Yoshio Tsuchiya as Detective Taguchi

Ayumi Sonoda as Emi, lead exotic dancer

Hisaya Itô as Misaki, the dissolved gangster

Nadao Kirino as Shimazaki, the waiter-thug

Naomi Shiraishi as Mineko, Dr. Maki’s assistant

Tetsu Nakamura as Mr. Chin, gangster

Tadao Nakamaru as Detective Seki

Minosuke Yamada as Chief of Inspectors Kusuda

Akira Sera as Horita – Fisherman

Haruya Katô as Sochan – Fisherman

Yasuhiro Shigenobu as Yasukichi – Fisherman

Senkichi Ômura as Daichan, 1st dissolved fisherman (Let me try on the pants!)

Haruo Nakajima as Chosuke, 2nd dissolved fisherman & Liquid Human Being

Shigeo Katô as Matchan, 3rd dissolved fisherman

Paul Frees as Various Voices (American dubbing)

Are you ready to battle an invasion of liquified men? Watch out, The Blob (1958), The H-Man (1958) is here to make you rue the day. Toho Films and director Ishirô Honda (Godzilla, 1954) blend sci-fi, horror, film noir, and… cabaret… for all kinds of horrifying shenanigans. Yup, people liquify left and right throughout the short 87-minute runtime. That’s right, only gooey globs of clothes and hairpieces remain. Join the Grue-Crew along with special guest-host Chris Peters (aka, José) as they revisit and review this unusual yet highly entertaining entry from the film company that gave the world Akira Kurosawa, Ishirô Honda, Godzilla, Mothra, and so much more.

At the time of this writing, The H-Man is available for streaming from the Classic Horror Movie Channel, Classic Sci-Fi Movie Channel, and Tubi.

You may be interested in these other Decades of Horror episodes focused on Ishirô Honda-directed films:

GODZILLA (1954, GOJIRA) – Episode 58 – Decades of Horror: The Classic Era

HALF HUMAN (JÛ JIN YUKI OTOKO, 1955) – Episode 16 – Decades of Horror: The Classic Era

RODAN (1956) – Episode 101 – Decades of Horror: The Classic Era

MATANGO (1963, ATTACK OF THE MUSHROOM PEOPLE) – Episode 135 – Decades of Horror: The Classic Era

THE WAR OF THE GARGANTUAS (FURANKENSHUTAIN NO KAIJÛ: SANDA TAI GAIRA, 1966) – Episode 57 – Decades of Horror: The Classic Era

SPACE AMOEBA (1970, YOG: MONSTER FROM SPACE) – Episode 127 – Decades of Horror 1970s

TERROR OF MECHAGODZILLA (1975) – Episode 165 – Decades of Horror 1970s

Gruesome Magazine’s Decades of Horror: The Classic Era records a new episode every two weeks. Up next in their very flexible schedule, as chosen by guest host Scott Wells is King of the Zombies (1941), a horror comedy directed by Jean Yarbrough (The Devil Bat, 1940; House of Horrors, 1946; The She-Wolf of London, 1946) and starring Dick Purcell, Joanne Woodbury, Henry Victor, and the great Mantan Moreland.

Please let them know how they’re doing! They want to hear from you – the coolest, grooviest fans: leave them a message or leave a comment on the Gruesome Magazine YouTube channel, the site, or email the Decades of Horror: The Classic Era podcast hosts at [email protected]

To each of you from each of them, “Thank you so much for watching and listening!”

Check out this episode!

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music-orthemisery · 3 months

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Hello! It’s me, anon who’s ranting about SP ) thank you for answering my rambling!

The most interesting thing is, that I totally agree with you, when I was high on my #feels for this tiny man, and was dreaming about this album meeting the light of the day in the more kind, more receptive timeline, what I was really wishing for is Patrick incorporating more songs from his album in his piano/acoustic guitar medley ))) or maybe even 8ball?? Because, unfortunately, you’re right, and the whole thing didn’t came from a happy place. And reliving it would be hard on everyone involved. Your relationship metaphor is so spot on, Pete taught us well )) Also, how funny is this, that this man can take the most serious, complicated topics and dress them up as dance, rock’ roll fusion songs … He does this on their latest album as well, it’s fascinating.

As about this famous pop artist whose album kinda flopped for me… I think I just hyped myself up too much, I heard good reviews, and thought it will be a bang of a record, but.. it’s not that bad, maybe I just need more time and some songs will stick with me ))

Anon, I’m going to subscribe to the insane delulu that Mr. Stump saw your ask last night because HE! DELIVERED!!!! WHAT ARE THE ODDS?!

Bad side of 25?!?! I’m dead and dying, honestly.

I am definitely holding your hand in terms of wishing that album could be released in the loving and supportive fan base that exists now. It kills me that he experienced so much pushback and vitriol. I fully believe him when he says that he was ok with it not being “successful,” but it was devastating to hear how much “fans” actively hated it. And be told this at his own shows!!

I try to remind myself that it was just part of the journey, though, and what helped make FOB what they are today <3

It’s easy to get caught up in the FOB feels. They have SUCH a story, and have come so far, yet have remained very true to themselves. That’s incredibly rare to find!

Totally agree that Patrick’s ability to take heart wrenching and serious topics and turn them into total bops is honestly unmatched. The beauty of all of his music is that you can either turn brain off and jam, turn brain on and cry, or do an odd mixture of both (<- me in the car tbh).

Feel free to express the feelings here any time!

(Ok but fr anon I am dying to know who you are talking about I do NOT get offended and prob will agree with you tbh hahahaha)

#sippin my coffee #doing a crossword #feeling the fob emotions #perfect Sunday tbh #love u anon <3 #anon asks

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splendontcore · 1 year

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Disclaimer: this was originally to be a little animatic...but it would be kind of complicated because of the music, the illustrations and because original script was 24 pages long, so i decided to make a fanfic instead. Sorry for any misspelling/grammar error, im still learning!

Special delivery!

It's sunday at Happy Tree Town. June 18th, 2006, fathers day! The low population of this insignificant place with such impressive green architecture was surely celebrating this important date. Who wouldn't be grateful for their father's existence? They didnt just give permissions when mom's doesn't want to, but also carrying you in the good path. Guiding every instance of your life and helping you to take good desicions...However, its a whole spectrum. Theres good dads, for example Petunia's dad, Mr. Kirainai; a hardworking business man who always mind about his family and cares that much about her only daughter that he even created a spot for her in the company which she is going to run someday, what a great heart he has! A dad would do anything for their children after all! But there's also bad dads, Tommy's dad could nail the subjet really well; Mr. Graff... he's at jail, some people especulate the reason was some domestic disputee that ended up with Tommy's older sister taking care of what was left alive...that's awful. And then, there are just dad's...neither good or bad. Most of the town old folks would fit in this term. Perfection doesn't exist, everyone is quite aware of that, but the closest thing to that its the delicious smell that Happy Tree Bakery left in the town's air. It was run by a sweet southern lady and her husband, who were expecting a baby boy, just called Ma and Pop by the town folks. Time passed and at the time this sweet moment happened, it was just the husband who was in charge.

Francis Cooper and their squirrel pet Splendont, named after the Splendid's comic character and not the infamous antihero in disguise obviously, walked to the big ol empty tree stump reused as small bakery, greeted by the smell of freshly baked pastries and the sound of cheerful customers.

-Pop, happy Father's Day! I'd like to place an order for some special donuts.

Francis said, with a gentle smile.

-Thank you, Franny honey! What can I get for you today?

Francis glances at the menu board, pondering their choices.

-I'll have a box of honey drizzled donuts, a box of bacon and syrup donuts, and a box of jelly-filled donuts.

Pop starts preparing the donuts, skillfully drizzling honey, sprinkling bacon bits, and filling the donuts with jelly.

Francis gets s bit curious, wasnt today an important day to remember the importance of dad in their life? Why he was working in his normal schedule insted of spending time bonding with this only child?

-Pop, why are you working on Father's Day? Don't you want to spend time with your son?

Pop left escape a small sigh and keep working in the order as he speaks.

-Well, you see, Franny, my deceased wife always encouraged hard work. She believed that putting love and dedication into what we do is important. So, in her honor, I continue to bake and serve delicious treats on special days like this.

Franci's eyes widen with understanding and admiration.

-That's really admirable, Pop. Your wife's values live on through your dedication. And I'm sure your baby son appreciates it too.

-Thank you, Flaky. At the end of the day, I'll have some quality time with my son. It's all about finding a balance.

Francis smiles, feeling a sense of warmth and connection. Then they tooks their wallet and took some money.

-Here's the payment, Pop. I hope these donuts bring joy to whose receive them.

Pop took the money while smiling back at the them.

-Thank you, Franny. I'm sure they'll love them.

Francis bids farewell to Pop, carrying the boxes of donuts, ready to surprise the fathers in their life.

Then they walks along the quiet streets, a determined look on their face can be seen on. Splendont scampers alongside them.

-So, Flaky, why did you get so many boxes of donuts? Last time I checked, you only have one dad.

Splendont said, while raising one of his stupid squirrel eyebrows.

-Well, Splendont, these boxes aren't just for my dad. They're for the significant men in my life who have been like fathers to me.

Splendont looks intrigued, his curiosity piqued.

-Ah, I see. Pray, do tell, who are these lucky recipients?

Francis stopped for a moment, trying to explain Splendont the significant bonds they has.

-First, there's Stephen's dad. You know...when we were toddlers, his parents used to take care of me. They were like second parents to me when my own dad was still grieving for my mom's loss. Then there's Mr. Johnson, my history teacher. He moved next to my house a few years ago. His own children don't visit him, so my presence helps fill that void in his life. He's been like a father figure to me.

-Oh, the retired soldier with the thousand miles stare? Interesting. And anyone else?

Franci's gaze becomes more solemn as they speaks.

-Lastly, there's my real dad. Despite his struggles with drug problems, I still care for him and hope that someday he can overcome them and be like he used to be in my childhood. He may not be a perfect dad, but he's still my dad.

Splendont's eyes soften as he takes in Flaky's words. He lefts his sarcastic comments behind to speak his mind.

-I didn't realize how many people hold a special place in your heart, kiddo. That's quite remarkable.

Francis nods as they resume their walk.

-They may not be related to me by blood, but they have made a significant impact on my life. And I want to show my appreciation for them.

Francis stops in front of Stephen's house.

-Oh, and I also wanted to send something to my yayo in Spain, but I already sent him a postcard a few weeks ago, I hope he receives it.

Francis knocks on Stephen's door, ready to give the gratitude filled boxes. They stands at the doorstep, holding the box of donuts, as Sofia, Stephen's older sister, opens the door. Sofia rolls her eyes at the sight of Francis.

-Ah, genial, es otro de los amigos inadaptados de Stephen. Stephen, your little buddy is here!

Sofia walks away, heading to the dining room where the family is gathered for the Father's Day celebration. The aroma of Chilean cuisine fills the air.

Francis shifts uncomfortably, feeling a bit out of place, maybe they should planned this to happen earlier. Stephen appears at the doorway, intrigued by Franci's unexpected arrival.

-Hey, Flaky. What's in the box?

Stephen said while raising an eyebrow.

Franci's eyes light up, realizing Stephen is curious about the box. They holds it out to him with a gentle smile.

-Its just some jelly filled donuts, Sniffles, just the onesthat your dad likes. It's Father's Day, and I wanted to give something special to the significant men in my life. This one is for your dad.

Stephen takes the box, a mix of surprise and appreciation crossing his face.

-Wow, Flaky, that's really thoughtful of you. Thank you. You know that you are part of this family too and we all care for you.I'm sure he'll appreciate the gesture, Flaky. He's in the dining room celebrating with the family. Mom made completos, his favorite food. Do you remember them, right?

Francis nods as they recall the numerous timrs they used to eat those overstuffed hot dogs...so delicious.

-Yeah, lous coumpletous, moi gueno...

Stephen's laughs softly about their butchered pronunciation. At least they tries.

-Well, I have more boxes to give this day. Keep celebrating. See ya tommorow!

Francis turns to leave, knowing that their gesture of appreciation will be appreciated by Stephens' dad and the rest of the family.

Francis and Splendont walk side by side, heading towards Mr. Johnson's house. Franci's flipphone rings, and they takes it out to see that it's thei friend, Nathniel, calling.

-Oh, it's Nutty! I wonder what he wants.

Splendont smirks mischievously, nudging Francis playfully.

-Ah, that kid. I bet he's just bored and wants someone to entertain him. Better pick up, Francis.

Francis gives Splendont a playful glare before answering the call.

-Hey, Nutty! What's up?

Nathniel was just laying on his candy cane themed bed. The room was filled with candy envelopes as usual, just the normal panoram in his house.

-Hey, Flaky. I'm just feeling kind of bored, and Sniffles is busy. Thought you might be free to hang out or something.

Francis glances at Splendont, then to the boxes in their hands, feeling a bit torn.

-Oh, Nutty, I wish I could hang out, but I'm actually on my way to Mr. Johnson's house right now. We have some things to discuss.

Nathniel would be lying if he said he wasnt disappointed by the answer, but there's nothing he could do to convince them so he just tried to keep up the conversation.

-Oh, no worries, Flaky. I...I understand. What's going on with Mr. Johnson, anyways?

-Well, it's Father's Day, and I wanted to give him something special to show my appreciation. I thought we could have a little chat too so he doesnt spend this day alone.

Fathers day? Is today? How he could it forget? Oh...because his parents dont live with him, duh. At the time this call was ocurring, his both parents where at his dad's home country, Germany, they had a full schedule of conferences to give.

-Ah, got it. Father's Day. That makes sense. I hope he appreciates the gesture.

-I'm sure he will, Nutty. He's been like a father figure to me. And hey, speaking of Father's Day, I remember you mentioning something about sending a gift to your dad in Germany.

He did? OH, YES! He didnt forget it at all!

-Oh, yeah. I sent him some delicious box filled with fancy chocolates, the best of the best. I even get two boxes for myself! But, you know, I couldn't help but worry about them getting lost in the mail or, even worse, the postman eating them all! They are so sneaky, ugh!

Francis chuckles at Nathniel's humorous concerns.

-Nutty, I highly doubt the postman would eat your chocolates. I'm sure they'll arrive safely, and your dad will be thrilled to receive them.

-You're right, Flaky. I'm just being silly. Thanks for calming my nerves.

-No problem, Nutty. Don't worry too much. Enjoy the rest of the day yourself! I'm already at Mr Johnson's house so I guess have to hung up...Take care of yourself, bye!

-Thanks, Flaky. Have a great time with Mr. Johnson.

Francis reaches Mr. Johnson's front door, ghey ends the call and looks at Mr. Johnson's house, ready to celebrate Father's Day with their caring teacher.

Mr. Johnson was sitting on a cozy armchair, engrossed in embroidering a blanket while his favorite vinyl plays softly in the background. He's lost in his thoughts, trying not to dwell on the significance of the date - Father's Day. Giving a stare to some of his frame photos you could tell he used to have a family of his own. Wife, kids and even a cute puppy. Everything was gone. His struggle with PSTD left him living alone at his old age. He havent heard of any of his children since he got divorcied some decades ago. The only thing he hopes it that at least they dont commit the same error as him to join at the militia. The sound of the doorbell breaks the silence, and Mr. Johnson's face lights up with hope. He quickly puts aside his embroidery and rushes to the door, anticipation in his eyes. Francis stands outside, holding the box of honey drizzled donuts at top. They smiles warmly when Mr. Johnson opens the door.

-Cooper! What a pleasant surprise...I thought it might be one of my children visiting on this special day.

He said the last sentence with a bit of disappointment.

Francis tries to be upbeat and grins at him.

-Well, Mr. Johnson, I'm here to celebrate Father's Day with you! I brought these honey drizzled donuts as a small token of appreciation.

Mr. Johnson's eyes well up with emotion, touched by Franci's thoughtfulness.

-Cooper, you have no idea how much this means to me. Thank you for considering me an important person in your life.

Mr. Johnson's gets his eyes tear filled by the nice gesture of his best worst student. At least someone stills seeing him as an important person in their life.

-You've been more than just a teacher to me, Mr. Johnson. You've been a guiding figure and someone I can always count on. I wanted to show my gratitude on this special day.

They share a heartwarming moment, both feeling the connection between them, just like as a father with their child.

-Thank you, Francis Cooper. This is truly touching. Come on in, let's celebrate together.

They step inside, and Mr. Johnson leads Francis to the cozy living room. They sit down, enjoying the sweet treats and engaging in heartfelt conversation. The atmosphere is filled with warmth and gratitude. Mr Johnson resumes his embroidery session, now with the help of some extra hands to spent the rest of the day.

--------

Francis and Splendont walk back home after some hours, there's just one box left in Franci's hands. Splendont can't resist making a sarcastic comment, as usual.

-Wow, Flaky, I never thought I'd see the day you would spend time inside of that crazy old man house. What are you going to do tomorrow? Cut his grass and make his dinner?

-Oh, please. You're just jealous you didn't get to enjoy those delicious donuts.

They continue their walk, bantering back and forth, their friendship stronger than ever.

As they arrived the Cooper's residence, Francis and Splendont enter the living room, carrying the last box of donuts. But happens that Franci's dad is already passed out on the couch, surrounded by empty bottles and used needles.

-Looks like my dad beat us to it, as usual.

Splendont hops off Flaky's shoulder, transforming into his humanoid form. He looks at Francis with a mixture of amusement and sympathy.

-Well, Flaky, can't say I'm surprised. You should've expected this outcome.

-I guess you're right, Splendont. It's the usual scene around here...

Francis places the box of donuts on a small table near the couch. They leans down and gently kisses their dad's forehead, despite his unconscious state.

-Happy Father's Day, Dad.

They takes two donuts from the box, one for themself and one for Splendont.

-At least I can still honor the important men in my life, even if they're not perfect.

Splendont smirks and takes a bite of his donut, savoring the sweetness.

-These bacon donuts are way too much...but terribley fantastic Thanks, I guess.

Francis nods, content with the simple gesture of celebrating Father's Day in their own way. They walks towards their room, munching on their donut, with Splendont following close behind. Then they both enter, closing the door behind them. They takes a seat on their matress, feeling a sense of fulfillment. Frqncis gazes at the donut in their hand, reflecting on the day and the men who have shaped their life. They takes another bite, savoring the flavor, grateful for the opportunity to thank them.

#happy tree friends #htf #flaky #nutty #sniffles #flippy #splendont #toothy #petunia #pop #the legend of franky jones #fanfic #tldr; francis shows their appreciation for the men that guide him like a father would #tw: drugs #tw: neglect #tw: implied murder #fluff #happy fathers day!!!#Spotify

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ailendolin · 2 years

Text

Whump Wednesday - 45 - Bill (2015)

Title: At Your Service [AO3]

Characters: Gabriel & Ian, Croydon, Philip II, Lope

Idea: While Croydon goes looking for Bill Shakespeare, Gabriel finds Ian asleep in the kitchen.

A/N: I've always wondered what happened to Ian after Lope punches him and this fic is one possible scenario of Ian and Gabriel's first proper meeting.

Prompts are open, so if you want me to write a story for you as well just send me an ask with the fandom, characters and your prompt. I’m writing for Ghosts, Yonderland, Horrible Histories and Bill at the moment.

Six Idiots Whump Wednesday / Fluff Friday masterlist is here.

————

At Your Service

So far, Gabriel could not say that she was very impressed by the Earl of Croydon. Not only did he seem to be a terribly dull man who believed himself to be much more interesting than he truly was, he was also not particularly bright. For his sake, she hoped he would turn out to be better at finding the lady’s husband than he was at writing plays.

“Just call for Ian if you need something,” he’d told them before he left to get Mr. Shakespeare. “I have no idea how he does it but he always knows I’m hungry before I do and has my favourite dishes ready to be served. Amazing, isn’t it?”

It was clear he had never set foot into a kitchen in his life and didn’t care to rectify that in the future. For that alone, Gabriel disliked him just a little bit more. She had been a servant once too, in another life lost to the past now, and she knew under different circumstances the earl, her king, even Juan and Lope would treat her and the work she’d be doing just as dismissively and ignorantly as Croydon was treating his servant. She would be invisible to them – as long as they had no need of her, that is. The moment they had, she would have to function, no matter what, and woe betide her if she dared to make a mistake or wasn’t fast enough.

“Now where did that little servant of his scurry off to?” the king mused a few minutes after Croydon had left. He looked around the room thoughtfully and cocked his head at the plates of wasted food littering the floor behind the table. “Hm, this doesn’t look half bad. What about it, lads? Some wine and food to celebrate our grand endeavour?”

Gabriel gave a half-hearted cheer along with everyone else even though getting drunk at an impromptu feast was the last thing she intended to do today. She grew silent as the king called for the servant – once, twice and then a third time with a bellow that rattled the windows – and winced when no one appeared.

Feeling the mood shift dangerously, she stood up from her chair and intervened before any heads could roll. “I’ll go look for him. Maybe he went to lie down after Lope greeted him so nicely with his fist.”

She sent Lope a withering glare and watched in satisfaction as he spluttered. Before he could open his mouth to argue, the king waved his hand towards the door, obviously bored, and said, “ Yeah, yeah, go ahead, then.”

Grateful to escape her present company for a few minutes, Gabriel bowed and hurried out of the room. She didn’t know the layout of Croydon’s house but she wagered the kitchen and servant quarters were located away from the huge, lavishly decorated rooms the earl usually frequented. So following her instincts, she went back to the front door and from there down the dark hallway that lead away from it. It had no windows and the candle stumps on the walls weren’t lit – Gabriel had a feeling she was on the right track.

There were two doors at the end of the hallway. The one on her right was slightly ajar so she gently pushed it open and poked her head through the gap. The sight in front of her was so unexpectedly sad it made her heart clench in sympathy: Croydon’s servant – Ian, she reminded herself – was sitting slumped over the table with his head pillowed on his arms and his eyes closed. Carrots and half-peeled potatoes lay scattered all around him, and in one of his hands he was loosely holding a knife.

He must have fallen asleep mid-cut, Gabriel thought. She took a cautious step forward into the room and looked at his sleeping face. Ian’s eyebrows were furrowed slightly, as if whatever he was dreaming about was distressing or worrying him, and above them she could make out an angry red welt in the gloomy light. She knew Lope wasn’t responsible for it – his fist hadn’t even strayed close to the servant’s forehead when he punched him. It didn’t make it easier to look at the blooming bruise under Ian’s eye Lope was responsible for or excuse his behaviour but fact was that he hadn’t caused that particular injury.

So who or what had?

Gabriel thought back to the state of the dining hall with its platters haphazardly pushed into corners, tables swept clean without thought and food all over the floor. It wasn’t hard to picture the earl throwing these things around in a fit, and even less difficult to imagine Ian getting caught in the middle of it.

Even though she didn’t know him Gabriel’s heart still went out to the young man in front of her. From the looks of it, his life was a hard one, even harder than hers had been before fate had intervened and set her on a different path – a path that had led her here. The shadows under his eyes spoke of late nights and early mornings; the frayed seams of his clothes told a story of a life of poverty and desperate attempts to stop it from falling apart, and the fresh blood on his doublet, right above his heart and under his ribs, was undeniable proof of recent violence against him.

Gabriel had seen many awful things in her life. Some of them still haunted her in her dreams; others she had buried so deep they couldn’t touch her anymore. But somehow the sight of this bedraggled stranger made her feel sadder than she had in a very long time. She had no idea what kind of man he was – whether he was gentle or harsh, kind or cruel – but she knew no one deserved a life where bruises accumulated over a matter of days, perhaps even hours, and exhaustion ran so deep there was simply no more strength left to resist the pull of sleep.

“Gabriel!” Lope called, his voice muffled by the walls between them. “Hurry up! We’re starving!”

You don’t even know what starving means, she thought grimly and forced herself not to ground her teeth in low-simmering anger.

Tentatively, she stepped closer to Croydon’s servant and gently pulled the knife from his hand. She had a feeling he would startle awake the moment she cleared her throat or tapped him on the shoulder, probably even violently so, and the last thing either of them needed was to get stabbed today – again, in his case, by the looks of it. So she placed the knife out of his reach and stepped back again to give him some space before she softly called his name. She didn’t want to wake him but, Better me than Lope, she figured.

Just as she had predicted, Ian jerked awake with a gasp. Pieces of carrot and potato flew wild as instinct made him blindly stumble to his feet. His chair clattered to the ground – a harsh noise in the heavy silence – and his eyes darted around in the room in panic as he flinched. The moment they locked onto her Gabriel held up her hands to show him she was unarmed and meant no harm. He still staggered a step backwards in fear, almost tripping over his chair in the process, and it didn’t escape Gabriel’s notice that he was limping.

“I am sorry,” she said, mindful to keep her voice calm and gentle. “I did not mean to wake you but the others are getting hungry and–“

“Wake me?” he asked. His eyes widened further as he took in the state of his dinner preparations. A look of utter despair crossed his face before he whispered, “Oh no. Oh no, no, no.”

He limped back to his chair, righted it and reached for the knife. His hand was shaking so badly Gabriel feared he would cut himself if she didn’t intervene.

“Ian,” she said softly. When he didn’t react, she reached over the table to still his hand. He froze.

“Please. I need to get this done,” he whispered without looking at her.

Gabriel tightened her hold on his hand and waited for him to meet her eyes. When he finally did, she offered him an understanding smile. “I can help.”

If possible, his eyes grew even wider. “Oh n-no, I couldn’t ask that of you, sir.”

“Miss,” Gabriel corrected him without thinking. “And you’re not. I’m offering. I did this kind of work before, a long time ago. I know how it is.”

Something changed in his face, then; subtly but beyond doubt. Gabriel didn’t know if it was her slip of the tongue or the revelation of her own poor background that made him look down at their hands and finally nod his assent. In the end it didn’t matter; she was just glad he did.

“Thank you,” she smiled and pulled up a chair for herself. Taking the proffered knife from him, she asked, “What do you need me to do?”

They worked quietly side by side for the next twenty minutes. While Gabriel proceeded to cut first the vegetables and then the hare into bite-size pieces, Ian carefully stirred the stew and added the ingredients to it, one after the other. Together, they finished the main load of the work just before Lope called for her again, sounding dangerously impatient. “Gabriel!”

“The stew is almost ready!” she shouted back before Ian could panic.

Ian gave her a look. “It won’t be for nearly half an hour.”

Gabriel shrugged and grinned at him. “Lope doesn’t need to know that.”

A small, shy smile appeared on his face then. It made him look ten years younger despite the shadows still bruising his eyes and the exhaustion weighing on his shoulders. He ducked his head and, after wiping his palms on his apron, shyly held out his hand to her. “Thank you. I – I honestly don’t know what I would have done without your help.”

“You’re welcome,” Gabriel said earnestly and shook his hand. She wasn’t surprised that she could feel every single bone under his skin. “Is there anything else I can do?”

“Oh no,” Ian hurried to say. “You’ve done more than enough already, Miss. The stew just needs to simmer now. No need for both of us to keep an eye on it.”

He called me Miss, Gabriel thought giddily, feeling warm all over.

He was right, though: most of the work was done and she had been gone too long already. Regretfully, she pushed herself to her feet. “Let me at least take some wine with me. That’ll keep them occupied until the stew is done.”

Reluctantly, Ian went into the pantry and gave her two bottles. “Goblets should be in the Great Hall.”

“All right,” Gabriel smiled, a little forcefully perhaps as she remembered the state the room had been in when she’d left it. “I’ll go keep them off your back, then. It’s been a pleasure working with you, Ian.”

“Likewise,” he stammered out, a little surprised. Knowing she’d dawdled long enough, Gabriel offered him one last smile and turned to go. He took an aborted step towards her. “Miss?”

She paused. “Yes?”

“I don’t even know your name,” he said bravely.

Taking in his battered face, the blush dusting his cheeks and the clear blue eyes staring hopefully at her, not the least bit dulled by the lot life had given him, Gabriel found her heart beating just a little bit faster. With a flourish, she bowed before him. “Gabriel Montoya. At your service.”

When she looked up, a small smile was tugging at his lips. “Gabriel.”

He breathed her name as if it was the most wonderful thing he had ever heard. No one had ever said it like this before, so softly and with a reverence most people only ever reserved for prayers. It made her feel both seen and cherished and she knew in her heart then that she would never forget this kind and gentle man who was so much more than the earl he worked for could ever hope to be.

#gabriel montoya #ian #earl of croydon #king philip ii of spain #lope lopez #gabrian #bill 2015 #bill the film #my fic #whump wednesday #wwff challenge

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whatdoesshedotothem · 2 years

Text

Fri[day] 28 October 1836

7 3/4

12 20/..

No kiss fine frosty morn[in]g F[ahrenheit] 34 1/2° now at 8 50/.. a.m. out ab[ou]t till br[eak]f[a]st at 9 1/2 - A- [Ann] d[i]d

h[e]r Fr[en]ch - out ag[ai]n at 10 1/4 – Ingh[a]m + 2 men and a boy at the parapet wall ov[e]r the dry wall arching –

Rob[er]t Mann + 3 lower[in]g and levell[in]g in front of the h[ou]se till 11 then took them off to prepare for mov[in]g the

heap of clay laid last y[ea]r ag[ain]st the gard[e]n wall - the run and all made ready and they beg[a]n mov[in]g the clay to the [foot]

the mound (to the east) of the rockwork immed[iatel]y aft[e]r their din[ner] – Rob[er]t Schof[iel]d and his man Jos[e]ph all the day wall[in]g

the hall-cellar drain - the gard[ene]r and Ch[arle]s and Ja[me]s How[art]h and John Booth and Mark Hepw[or]th help[in]g when they

c[oul]d to clear the orch[ar]d – lit[tle] trace left of an orch[ar]d this ev[enin]g - Mark Hepw[or]th levell[in]g soil aft[e]r the N[orth]g[a]te

carts on the gr[ea]t embankment in front of the h[ou]se - Frank cart[in]g for Ingh[a]m st[one] fr[om] the gard[e]n wall in the morn[in]g and rag

throughs fr[om] Hipperh[olme] quarry in the aft[ernoo]n - Booth the gr[eate]r part of the day and 2 masons all the day at the west tow[e]r

2 masons jobb[in[g – prepar[in]g for the top of the drab-r[oo]m chim[ne]y (hew[e]d by the 2 hewers Ja[me]s Murgatroyde and

Booths’ son Jos[e]ph and w[oul]d ha[ve] been put up but for the windy days we ha[ve] late[l]y h[a]d) - and prepar[in]g

lancet-lights for the groin[e]d dry wall arch - In the gard[e]n and ab[ou]t all the day exc[ept] fr[om] about 2 to 4 when

saunt[ere]d d[o]wn the walk - and along the low[e]r brea daisy bank thro’ Wellroyde wood int[o] the N[or]thow[ra]m r[oa]d to so[me]

dist[an]ce ab[ou]t Upper brea - to where Shibd[e]n is 1st seen - stood compar[in]g the diff[eren]t points of view –

ret[urne]d by the Stump X Inn and the Lodge – 1/2 h[ou]r there talk[in]g to Matty for Hannah Pearson the cook here

20 y[ea]rs ago h[a]d been at the hall and call[e]d on her way b[a]ck to see Matty - poor Hannah! she told me how I w[a]s

altered – so[me]bod[y] h[a]d told h[e]r lately how m[u]ch I w[a]s aged - But she d[i]d n[o]t kno[w] she sh[oul]d expect

me to look just as I us[e]d to do - no! s[aid] I, you ha[ve] n[o]t seen me these 20 y[ea]rs - it is ti[me] for

me to be alt[ere]d - it is fr[om] s[u]ch peop[le] one hears the truth - I h[a]d th[ou]ght, on her ent[erin]g the

r[oo]m, she w[a]s grown an old wom[a]n - so chang[e]d I might n[o]t ha[ve] known her en passant –

b[u]t I made no rem[ar]k on this to her – ho[me] ab[ou]t 4 – w[i]th Rob[er]t Mann at the clay mov[in]g and ab[ou]t

till ca[me] in at 6 – dress[e]d – direct[e]d and seal[e]d and s[e]nt off by Frank tonight my notes (writ[ten]

last night and dat[e]d yest[erday]) to ‘Mr. Hoyland Gibbet-lane’ order[in]g a hatch[men]t for my a[un]t to be done as soon

as poss[ible] - and my no[te] to ‘Dr. Kenny Ward’s end’ enclos[in]g a guin[ea] (a sov[erei]gn and a shil[ling]) sor[ry] that

this sm[all] debt of w[hi]ch I w[a]s n[o]t aware h[a]d been so long unacknowledg[e]d – din[ner] at 6 35/.. – coff[ee]

upst[ai]rs - A- [Ann] r[ea]d h[e]r Fr[en]ch - I asleep on the sofa 1/2 h[ou]r - A- [Ann] h[a]d let[ter] tonight fr[om] Messrs. Gray –

the complet[io]n of her Radcliffe purchase to be at the White Swan H[alifa]x on Tues[day] - Mr. S. Washingt[o]n

to attend - A- [Ann] annoy[e]d - we all al[on]g th[ou]ght of go[in]g to York - she h[a]d n[o]t wish[e]d the purch[a]se to be

complet[e]d here and for Mr. SW- [Samuel Washington] to ha[ve] an[y]th[in]g to do w[i]th it - at 10 20/.. p.m. h[a]d just writ[ten] all the ab[ov]e of today

at wh[ic]h h[ou]r F[ahrenheit] 33° ver[y] fine cold frosty day -

How m[u]ch I chang[e]d

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gradianmax · 2 years

Text

Good Things Come With Time || Malliot

Tagging: Max, @evanmcintosh, @elliejamesrose

When: Thursday, August 25th, - afternoon, transitioning to evening

Where: Elliot’s Office, Red Lion Pub, Elliot’s Home

Warnings: nsfw - sexual conduct, strong language, and violence

Notes: Max is bolded, Elliot and Evan are italic

Elliot couldn’t remember the last time he was at this level of stress. This was beyond the stress he usually had, at that level he could function but right now he could barely eat without feeling sick. One of his top employees had been out sick and Elliot had to take over all his cases on top of dealing with his own clients. He’d been in meeting after meeting and even skipped lunch and dinner the past two days to work. Today during lunch he had a meeting with a very important client he’d been dreading. The man was frightening and he barely gave Elliot the time of day. Today he met with him to convince the man to work with him.

Max knew there was something up with Elliot. Maybe it was from being overworked, maybe it was nerves, maybe it really was that he was sick of Max already. No matter what it was, Max knew he wanted to do something to make it better. If he was being completely honest with himself, he was completely aware that bursting in on him at work unannounced was a terrible idea. He couldn't help it though, he was an impulsive guy by nature. Once he got an idea in his head, it was hard to let it go. Natasha had planted the idea and he had to see it through. He was stumped as to what he could do at first. He still believed that a subpar gift would be even worse to Elliot than not getting him a gift at all. And while the business was doing well, he couldn't justify dropping a ton of cash on a gift, just because. So, he brainstormed to try to make the gift thoughtful enough to make up for the lack of expense. In the end he decided on a gift basket of sorts.

He went to the shop and filled it up with everything he'd learned about Elliot in the time they'd spent together thus far. He added a pineapple (without the pizza obviously), a jar of pickles (dill, because fuck bread and butter), a stress relieving candle (or so the label said), a bottle of massage oil (he was no professional masseuse, but hopefully Ellie would give him a chance), a little customizable plaque that he'd gotten a New Girls quote written on ("Pine has no place in this loft. It's the wood of poor people and outhouses.") and a few other odds and ends. He managed to make it look rather nice but it was very clearly a gift of thought, not substance. He sighed and headed into Elliot's office building, hoping the man would find it amusing at the very least. He wasn't stopped by any employees on his way down the halls and took it as a good sign. When he finally came across a door with Elliot's name plastered on the outside he took a deep breath, gave two sharp knocks and then stepped inside.

"Ellie, babe? You have a second?"

The client he had in-front of him was tough, he usually didn’t have to try so hard to sell himself on his talent but Elliot was determined to make this business deal. It would be his biggest to date. “Sir, I promise you won’t regret working with us, we-…” Elliot was interrupted by a voice coming from his door, a voice he recognized so well and normally loved to hear but the client already seemed disinterested enough and raised a brow in disapproval when he heard the very obvious sound of a significant other at the door.

“I see you have other business to attend…Sorry, Mr. Rose. I think I’m going to be going in a different direction.” The man said before standing up and walking out of the office without another word and giving Max a disapproving look.

Elliot could feel his heart sink and his blood run cold. He needed this client, he was the key to getting his business to the next level, now nobody at his level would want to work with him. Infuriated he looked over at Max as he began tearing up the paper work he had spend days preparing. “What the fuck are you doing here? I told you I would text you when I had time. That was supposed to be my most important client. Fuck.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, feeling a stress headache beginning.

The moment Max stepped into the room he knew he'd fucked up, big time. he took a quick step back to avoid the older man practically barreling into with a nasty glare. He stood at the door staring after him before turning back to Elliot. His stupid basket was grasped in his arms and he honestly wished a hole would open up in the ground so he could toss it into oblivion and himself along with it. He didn't even know what to say. How was he meant to apologize for something like this? He wasn't the smartest guy around but even without the yelling he could tell that he'd just cost Elliot some sort of deal. "I- fuck, Ellie, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to- You were upset... I just wanted to do something for you."

Elliot was so blind in his anxiety and stress that he didn’t even see what Max was holding. “Upset? I wasn’t upset. What the hell are you talking about? but I fucking am now. You don’t see me bloody barging into your workplace and bothering you? Do you?” He raised his voice slightly. He turned away from Max and shook his head. “What did you want? now that you’ve freed up some space on my calendar.”

Max didn't know what to do. He certainly didn't want to give Elliot the stupid fucking basket full of useless shit he'd brought with him. But he couldn't exactly say, oh I just came over and ruined your meeting for absolutely no fucking reason at all. He was fucked either way. "You just seemed pretty stressed about work. Wanted you to know I was thinking of you. Brought you a gift. I really didn't mean to fuck things up for you, El. I never would have come if I'd known. I'm sorry."

“A gift?” He scoffed and if he wasn’t so upset he’d have realized how mean he was being. “That couldn’t have waited? I told you I was busy.” He looked over at Max once again. “Well you already did, so can you just go? I need to try and fix this shit.” He gestured towards the door as he took a seat at his desk, going through other papers and starting to browse through his computer.

Max took a step back and stared at the ground to avoid looking at Elliot. He knew a dismissal when he heard it. "Right. Sorry. I'll just fuck off then." He didn't wait for a reply before tearing out of the room. Blood rushed to his head as he made his way towards the building's exit. He could feel the pressure building behind his eyes as he thought about the complete and utter fool he'd made of himself. Just as he was about to leave he tossed the basket onto the front desk and gave the secretary a sad attempt at a smile. "Throw that shit away for me, would you?" He tossed her a wink and then stormed out of the building dropping the smile immediately. He'd fucked everything up and now all he wanted to do was get fucking piss drunk and forget about the whole day.

It took a while before Elliot could come down from his high horse. He hadn’t even looked up to see if Max had left and only hours after working and the whole situation had happened, had Elliot replayed the conversation in his head.

He didn’t know if he was embarrassed or mortified. The front desk knew better than to bother him before a certain hour and when 7pm had finally arrived he heard a knock at the door and his receptionist on the other side with a basket filled with some odd things.

“What’s this?” He raised his brows with a small yawn. The young girl held it out to Elliot. “Max, from the shop down the street left it… Told me to toss it but I think it’s for you. Should I still toss it?” She asked. Elliot furrowed his brows and grabbed the basket. This was the gift. It was certainly odd, but it seemed to have a lot of meaning behind it. Suddenly his heart sank. “No, no. I’ll take it.” He told the girl. “Thanks, you can clock out.” He returned to place the gift at his desk and chewed on his nails. He had seriously fucked up.

Max refused to cry. He had it on good authority that tons of couples fought all the time. He couldn't let himself fall to pieces from one little fight. Despite that logic running around his head, once evening hit he still found himself sitting alone at the pub nursing his fourth beer in the last hour. His eyes were becoming heavier with each passing minute the drunker he got and he wasn't sure if he was more likely to burst into tears or start beating on the next person that came close to him. He took his phone out again, which was a mistake as he saw there were still no messages from Elliot. It's not as if he actually expected to get one. Hell, he'd be surprised if he ever heard from the man again after royally fucking up his business like he did. He slammed his empty glass down and gestured for another.

Evan hadn’t been at the bar long, he wasn’t drinking, mostly just looking for a quick lay when he set his eyes on Max. Something was clearly upsetting him and he was getting more intoxicated by the minute. He pushes off from his seat at the bar and made his way to Max, tapping him on the shoulder. “I honestly didn’t think you could get any hotter. The whole sad look in your eye thing is crazy hot.” He chuckled “You good? Or did Rose fuck shit up?”

On a normal day that line would have been all it took for Max to smirk back and drag Evan off to the pub's toilets or even back to his place. Tonight however, he couldn't think of anything but the look on Elliot's face as he'd walked into his office. Evan's mention of the man already had him seeing red. "I'll warn you now not to talk about him, mate. What the hell are you even doing here? Aren't you fucking sober now? You trying to tempt yourself or some shit? Piss off."

Evan raised a brow, he knew Max was trying to get a rise from him but it was fairly hard to make Evan mad. “I’m not drinking you dick, I’m just trying to get laid.” He place a hand on Max’s shoulder giving a gentle squeeze. Sure he was being a little jerk but he still cared about Max. “Seriously dude, did something happen with Elliot? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this.”

Max sighed and let his tensed shoulder relax a bit at the touch. "Sorry," he muttered. He knew Evan didn't deserve to be on the receiving end of his anger just because he happened to be there. His new drink arrived and he took a deep swig. "I thought he was upset with me, like I said last night. Thought I'd get him a gift, surprise him with it at work. Fucking idiot. I walked in on an important meeting, cost him a pretty big client apparently. He wasn't fucking happy about it." He sighed and took yet another drink. "So here I am, trying to see if I can literally drink my troubles away. I've come up with a theory that if I drink enough I'll forget what a fucking idiot I am."

God, he despised the Rose brother so much. Thank god Marley and him never made it to the point of Evan having call him a brother in law, he didn’t think he could do it. “He didn’t like the gift?” Evan asked trying to hold back from insulting the other man. “You’re not the idiot Max, you were trying to do something nice and he should be able to understand that.”

"Didn't even show it to him," he countered quickly. "It was shit to begin with, wasn't about to give it to him after completely fucking up his meeting." He sighed. "It's whatever, man. I don't need a therapist. Either sit down and don't drink with me or get lost." Evan was actually being pretty nice but Max just wasn't in the mood for it.

“Or you could get lost with me.” He grinned jokingly but not really. Taking Elliot’s man would feel like a pretty big accomplishment for him. He placed his other hand on his other shoulder, now both hands massaging his shoulders. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea but Evan could handle himself. “C’mon, you can be so good for me. I’ll make you feel good.” He whispered in his ear.

Max couldn't deny that it turned him on, and yeah, it had been over a week since he and Elliot had been physical so he was pretty pent up. A month ago he would have been out the pub door with Evan in a heartbeat and the drunk part of him wanted to just say fuck it. His heart won out. "You're not him."

Evan scoffed at the rejection from the younger man. Of course Rose had a hold on Max because why wouldn’t he. “Yeah , I’m not some moody prude who only cares about himself. Wouldn’t want to be him anyway.” He spat out, taking it way too far but he was annoyed.

Max quickly stood up from his seat and turned around to face Evan, barely managing not to stumble from how much he'd been drinking. "I fucking told you not to say shit about him!" Evan didn't deserve the abuse, but he was there and he was saying shit Max didn't want to hear. If he was in his right mind he wouldn't be making a scene in the middle of the pub but his anger, sadness, and multiple drinks were getting the best of him.

Evan knew better than to egg Max on but he just couldn’t help himself. It was kinda hot seeing him all riled up and also he really didn’t like Elliot and vice versa so it was free game. “Right, you’re protecting the one person who treats you like shit. Okay, makes sense. Simp.” He spat back.

"You don't know what you're fucking on about. He doesn't treat me like shit. I'm the one that fucking pushed when he said not to and ended up fucking things up for him!" He escalated things further by shoving Evan's shoulder roughly. "Don't call me a simp just because you've got your knickers in a twist that I won't fuck you anymore."

Evan chuckled at his attempt of an insult. Evan was a simp and he knew it, there was nothing that bothered him about it, what really bothered him was why someone so great was with someone so not great. He didn’t understand it. “You see him moping over this? He doesn’t give a fuck about you.” He stated and shoved him back.

Back at the office Elliot had sat down at his desk looking over the gift Max had brought him. It was awfully thoughtful and Elliot felt terrible for yelling at him earlier. He hated himself for the way he got when it came to work, he knew he’d fuck up at some point, he just didn’t think it would be before it even started.

He pulled his phone out and tried calling Max, when he didn’t get an answer he sighed and decided he would walk home to clear his mind and maybe try him again when he arrived.

Max was filled with a white hot rage at Evan's words. He hated hearing them because they were exactly what he feared to be true. With his blood rushing through his ears he certainly didn't hear the sound of his phone going off. All he could hear and all he could see was Evan and his harsh truth.

Before he even knew what he was doing his curled right fist was connecting Evan's jaw. He felt the skin of his knuckles burst but ignored the pain. "Say that to me again!"

Elliot was on his walk home when he could hear commotion from inside the pub. He could hear shouting and through the window he saw him. Max throwing the punch at Evan and Evan stumbling back, hand winding up to punch back. Elliot raced inside getting in between the two, holding back Evan who was much stronger than him. “Hey! Stop!”

The last thing Max expected to see was Elliot as he jumped into the middle of his fight. "Ellie what the hell are you doing here?" He took a step back in surprise and then was filled with dread. He didn't want to risk Evan hitting Elliot because of him. He raised his hands in a sort of surrender motion to try and show the other man that he was backing off.

“Looks like pretty boy is coming to the rescue.” Evan yelled over Elliot’s shoulder. “Fucking lucky too. I would have laid you down hard.” He threatened. Elliot rolled his eyes still holding Evan back. “Evan enough.” He spoke firmly and patted his chest. “Are you okay?” He asked the blonde, just to make sure, the punch from Max seemed pretty hard.

Evan looked down at Elliot and huffed, he didn’t expect him to ask how he was but he appreciated the thought. “I’m fine. Fix your shit, Rose. I’ll see you later.” Evan spoke quietly before glaring at Max and heading out of the pub. Elliot turned his attention back to Max. “Fighting with Evan, really? You need to stoop down to his level? You’re better than that, Max.” He berated him. He didn’t mean to nag he just worried for Max and didn’t want his getting into fights. “I tried to call you, you didn’t answer. I see why now.” Referring to the obvious intoxicated man.

Max glared right back at Evan as he watched him walk out of the pub. He did feel a little bad about the hit, but he shouldn't have been talking shit. He sighed and sat back down at his table. He was lucky the staff didn't kick him out the moment he'd thrown the punch. Thankfully, Elliot's intervention seemed enough that they were willing to let him stay.

The other man's words made him feel like a child being scolded for misbehaving on the playground. He stared down at the table and grabbed his nearly empty glass. "He was saying shit about you," he mumbled as if that were a perfectly good excuse to hit someone.

Elliot sighed and got the attention of the bartender, he took out his card and payed Max’s tab. “I don’t need you to defend me. I don’t want you to fight for my honor, you know this.” He told Max sternly but with care. He reached for his shoulder and pulled him gently. “Cmon. Let’s go home.” He spoke softly and started walking out of the pub. As soon as he was out the door he pulled out a cigarette and lit it up, taking a drag and waiting for Max.

Max pouted at the scolding. "Wasn't trying to fight for your honor," he argued. "Just said shit things about you. Made me angry. Wanted to hit his face until he shut up." He explained the situation as if it weren't the literal definition of fighting for someone's honor. But it turned out that as far as Elliot was concerned Max didn't have much of a spine, so he let himself be lead easily out of the pub. He was too trashed to notice the other man paying for him, or even remembering that paying was something he needed to do at all. He did notice the cigarette and was momentarily surprised that Elliot partook. He hadn't seemed the type. It did serve as a reminder of his own cravings and he took one out of his jacket pocket. "Light?" he mumbled out while holding the object up.

Elliot wasn’t really sure what he was feeling, he almost felt numb at this point. Disassociating from his emotions was one of the things he did best. He figured they could just talk about things tomorrow when they were both of clear mind, or maybe not talk at all.

He brought his lighter up to Max to light him up and then put it away in his pocket. He didn’t say much more to Max as he began walking back to his house. He felt like if he spoke he would just speak out of frustration again. He didn’t need anyone defending him to anyone. That’s why Elliot minded his business around town and always has.

Max had about a million things he wanted to say, most of which started with 'I'm sorry.' Thankfully, even his drink addled mind new there was nothing he could say that would fix things, so he stayed quiet. As far as he could tell, Elliot was bringing him home with him and that seemed like a good thing. Maybe the man still cared about him even though he'd messed things up so bad. He quickly smoked through his cigarette and lit a second one with the end before tossing it away. He sighed deeply and once he saw Elliot's building he made the terrible decision to speak up. "I fucked up, Ellie. I'm sorry. I don't know how to make it better."

“Stop.” He replied with huff. He ran a hand through his hair and flicked the bud to the ground, stepping on it to make sure it was out. He felt so conflicted, he was mad at himself and upset about the meeting and upset at Max for picking a fight but at the same time he was the only one he wanted to see.

“I don’t want your apology. There’s nothing to do. What happened happened.” He spoke as he unlocked his door to go inside the house. He set his shoes up and then turned to Max to help him with his own knowing it would be harder since he was intoxicated.

Max did his best to take his shoes off once he entered the home. He leaned on Elliot a moment to get them off fully and them pulled away from him with a little stumble. He saw the man putting his shoes away and frowned. He withheld the apology that he wanted to spout out again, knowing it would just make things worse. "I should just go," he mumbled out. "You don't have to take care of me. I'm just bothering you. Fucking everything up. I'm too drunk, I'll make a mess."

“Quiet. You’re not bothering me.” He said matter of factly. He knew Max liked to be coddled but he didn’t have the mind to do it at that moment. He was tired and stressed from the whole day. “Cmon.” He said taking his hand and leading up the stairs to his bedroom. “You need a shower. Can you manage?” He asked the other.

Max frowned at the tone, but couldn't help but feel a little bit of hope at the words. Despite how rightfully angry he'd been, Elliot was still willing to take the time to help him. Not to mention, even with the terrible situation feeling the other man's hand locked with his own still made his heart go crazy. So instead of arguing more he just nodded his head and obediently got in the shower. He quickly, and with only slight difficulty, pulled all his clothes off and left them in a neat little stack. In truth they were all just balled up together, but his drunk mind really thought he'd put some care into keeping it tiny for Elliot. He stumbled into the shower and yelped when he poured freezing cold water down on his body. "Ah, fuck!" It had been a mistake, obviously, but it did wonders to begin the process of sobering him up.

Elliot watched the man go off into the bathroom and set out his (now Max’s) pajama pants and set them neatly on the bed. He undressed his self, decided he would shower in the morning and pulled on his own pants before hearing the man exclaim. “Everything okay?” He called out from the bedroom.

Max snapped his head towards the door when he heard Elliot call out to him. "Fuck," he mumbled again to himself as he continued to deal with the cold water. "Nah, it's fine, Els. Just sobering myself up!" he yelled to be heard over the stream currently hitting him in the chest. He took a deep breath and dunked his head in clear away some of the fog. After that he quickly finished up in the shower and toweled himself off. He'd regained just enough of his senses to be absolutely terrified of walking back out into Elliot's bedroom, but not enough to actually keep him from doing so. When he saw the pajama pants waiting for him he nearly teared up for the hundredth time that night. "Thanks," he mumbled towards the ground before pulling them on and awkwardly standing near the bed.

Elliot knew he couldn’t stay mad at Max, he didn’t understand why. How someone he’d only been getting to know for a couple weeks could make him feel so many emotions. Sure, maybe Max showing up cost him his client but it was a long shot with the man and Elliot was more mad at himself than Max. He just took things out on the ones he loved.

Wait, no. He didn’t love Max. He couldn’t so soon, could he? He cursed to himself as watched as the man come out and get dressed. He sighed and came up behind him to wrap his arms around the slightly taller man. He rested his head on his shoulder and pressed his lips to his skin. “I’m sorry.” He muttered softly against his skin.

The moment he felt Elliot's touch he let himself relax completely and a stray tear fell down his face. He brought his hands up to hold onto the other man's arms around his middle. He was feeling raw with emotion and he didn't know what to do with it all. He thought back to the night of their first date and how amazing it had been with them both at ease with one another. "Do you still think I'm one of the best things to ever happen to you?" He asked it full of both hope and dread.

Elliot felt his chest ache immediately as he heard the words come out of his mouth. He didn’t answer immediately, instead just squeezing him tightly in his arms. He loosened his grip and turned him so they could face each other. He brought a hand up to his face. “You were the only person I wanted to talk to all day. Even after what happened. You’re in my head so much it scares me… and I’ve never…” he took a deep breath and let out the air nervously. “I’ve never felt this way before. I don’t think. I know and that scares me too.”

Max closed his eyes once they were face to face so he could try to keep any other tears from falling. "Fuck, Ellie. It's the same for me. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you all week. And I know I shouldn't have come today but I fucking missed you. And that's some selfish bullshit, I know but I can't help it. You make me fucking crazy. I didn't meant to get in the way of your work. I swear it'll never happen again, baby. Please forgive me, please." Now that they were finally talking it was like Max couldn't keep it contained anymore. His drunken mind was just spewing forth everything he'd been feeling.

Elliot listened to what Max had to say and hated that the younger man felt compelled to keep apologizing. Elliot was the one in the wrong and he made Max feel like shit and it wasn’t okay. “You didn’t do anything wrong. The client was a dick, he was never going to go with us.” He admitted. “I was just frustrated and I took it out on you and I’m sorry… I got your gift, I really liked it.”

Max turned his head and blushed. He was delighted that Elliot seemed to be less angry with him, but he was mortified that he'd actually received the basket. "Told the woman at the front to toss it. You should fire her. Does not follow direction."

“The pickles were a nice touch.” He smiled softly at the man. “Wendy is only hired to follow my directions.” He countered with a small chuckle. His hands slid up and down the others hips. “I’m sorry I’ve been distant, I promise to communicate better with you. I don’t ever want to make you feel like I did today and I don’t ever want you to punch Evan McIntosh for me. Let that jerk waste his energy on something else.”

When he saw the little smile on Elliot's face it was like a weight lifted from his stomach. He wrapped his arms around the other man and buried his face in his neck. "I'll be better too," he said. "I want to learn how to help you when you're stressed." He sighed and squeezed the man just a bit tighter. He felt ashamed for hitting Evan. "He said you didn't give a fuck about me," he confessed. "I let it get to me. Should have ignored it... but I just couldn't."

“Honestly, i don’t even know what to do when I’m stressed. That’s why I pull away I guess, let myself deal with it.” He shrugs with a sad smile. “I think I care too much about you. Evan can go fuck himself. His words aren’t true. He doesn’t know what we have and he doesn’t understand it. He’s never had something like this. He could have with Marley but I don’t think he let himself.” Elliot kissed the side of Max’s head.

Max giggled against Elliot's neck when he heard him curse the other man out. "He will be fucking himself tonight since I turned him down," he said with a laugh. "I shouldn't be such an arse too him though, he is my friend. I think. But he really fucking pissed me off tonight." He pulled back enough to kiss Elliot's cheek and then press their foreheads together. "We do have something though, right? It's not just me. You feel it too. Like fucking electricity every time I hear your voice or see your face."

Elliot shook his head. “It’s definitely not just you.” He spoke lovingly. “You’re the only person I want to be around, even when I’m angry, even when I’m sad. Even if it’s you who made me feel however the fuck, it’s still you who I want to be with at the end of the day.” He sighed, it felt terrifying to lay it all out like that.

Max breathed a sigh of relief. "Ellie, baby, you don't know how happy that makes me. I feel the same way. I wake up, I think of you. I go to work, I think of you. I try to fucking sleep, I think of you." He rubbed a hand up and down Elliot's back as he continued to spill his guts out to the man. "I thought I was turning into some creepy stalker. But you're telling me this shit is normal? It's okay that I want to be with you all the fucking time?"

“I’m trying to figure out the same thing, bub.” He chuckled. “I guess as long as we’re both on the same page then who cares if it’s normal, right? It’s our life. It’s just us.” He wasn’t sure where the pet name had come from but it just felt right. He kissed him and it felt like forever since he last had done so. “We’re not just dating, right? This isn’t just some trial run for you?”

Max melted into the kiss and sighed happily against Elliot's lips. "Only if it's like one of those try it free for 14 days things and then I've decided it's totally worth the thirty quid a month or whatever so I subscribe for life." He tilted his head in confusion. "That sounded a bit like a marriage proposal. But, I just wanted to start with asking you to be my boyfriend. Supposed to be romantic, but I'm drunk in your room with wet hair."

Elliot chuckled “I like wet haired kinda drunk in my bedroom boyfriend proposals.” He kissed him deeply and backed him up against the bed, tumbling them both over. “Yes, I’ll be your boyfriend.”

Max returned the kiss and laughed as they fell to the bed. His head was spinning both from the alcohol and from the amazing turn of events. He quickly rolled them over so he was on top and started placing small kisses all over Elliot's face. "You won't regret it, baby. You're all mine now and I'm going to treat you like a king."

Elliot looked into his eyes as he was locked underneath the gorgeous man. He wrapped his arms around Max’s waist and cupped his ass over his pajama pants. “I’m yours and you’re mine.” He grinned, slightly licking hips lips. He felt blissful.

Max was emboldened by both the incredibly heartwarming and arousing statement and Elliot's hand on his ass. "Do you want to just sleep? Or..?" He trailed off but shifted his hips so he could grind down against him. He'd be fine either way really, especially considering the lingering alcohol in his system was going to keep him front lasting any time at all.

“How am I meant to sleep when my boyfriend is so damn attractive?” He asked with a smirk as he held Max down by the hips. The emotional stuff is what really got Elliot aroused and right now he was very turned on by his boyfriend.

Max flushed at the praise and pulled his boyfriend into another kiss. He moaned against his mouth. "Would it be pushing it to ask if I can go down you again? Still totally cool if you don't want me to." He didn't want to pressure the man, especially now that they'd just gotten to a good place, but he hadn't stopped thinking about getting him in his mouth for the last week.

Elliot definitely wanted this, he had no doubt about it at this point, he was ready to take the next step. He shook his head as to confirm he wanted this and let Max take over.

"I'm going to make you feel so good," he murmured against his skin as he started placing kisses all down his neck. He shifted them up further on the bed so he could comfortably scoot down Elliot's body. He grabbed the man's waistline and pulled it down gently. "Tell me if you want to stop, Ellie."

“Wait.” Elliot stopped the man, placing his hands on his shoulders as he thought of one last barrier. “You’ve been drinking…” he spoke gently and caressed his face. He needed to make sure he wasn’t taking advantage of the younger man just because he was previously pretty intoxicated. He would feel awful if that was the case. “I just don’t want to take advantage of you just because I’m aroused. I want to make sure you’re fully aware and want this.” He told him.

Max stopped and looked back up. It was true he was still feeling pretty tipsy but that'd never stopped anyone before. "I was sober the last time I begged you for this," he teased. Despite that, he still sat up a bit to show Elliot he wasn't just brushing off his concern. "I want this. But if you want me to sober up first I can go grab a coffee and some food."

Max was right, Elliot smiled at him and reached out his hands to pull him into another kiss before letting go. “Okay, I just wanted to make sure, baby. I trust you.” He replied as he settled back against the bed. His hand ran through the others damp hair gently.

With permission granted Max pulled his lover's pajamas down and started pressing kisses all over his inner thighs and that beautiful area where they met his torso. "No one's cared about me like you before," he mumbled against his skin. He took hold of Elliot at the base and slowly started to pump. "I want to be that for you too. I want to make you feel good, like this and in every other way. Want to take care of you, even though I know you're fine on your own."

Elliot looked down at Max lovingly, shutting his eyes and biting the corner of his lip when Max took him in his hands. He groaned softly, feeling so much pleasure. “You are that for me. You are.” He spoke as he opened his eyes to watch the man below him.

Max had always loved sex, obviously. He considered himself to be an expert on the subject, in fact. So he found it incredibly strange that there was a whole side of it that he'd never delt with. The intimacy that he felt with Elliot surpassed anything he'd ever experienced before. When he finally took the man in his mouth he moaned in delight. Knowing that he was special to Elliot enhanced everything and it was almost as if he could actually feel the other man's pleasure. He worked him slowly, experimenting with different techniques to see which he'd like better. It wasn't long before he was reaching down to take himself in hand as well.

Every time Elliot experienced something sexual with Max he couldn’t believe how good it felt. Elliot had plenty of blow jobs before but never one that meant something, never by someone who wanted to make him feel good so much. Elliot watched Max as he wrapped his lips around him. Elliot was enthralled. He bit back a moan, not wanting to distract from such a beautiful view.

Max pulled back for a moment so he could reach for Elliot's hand without falling. He grabbed it and brought it up to the back of his head. "Don't hold back. You can pull my hair if you want, baby. I like it as long as it's not too hard." He dropped his arm back down to the bed to support himself and took Elliot so deep he could practically feel him in his throat. He started bobbing up and down once again, timing it nearly perfectly with the strokes he used on himself.

Elliot ran his fingers through Max hair, combing the unruly locks. There was nothing on this man he did not like. He was completely perfect for Elliot. His eyes shut at how amazing he was feeling so deep in Max’ throat but he quickly opened them because he didn’t want to miss a sing thing. His fingers tightened aground his honey locks as he followed his boyfriend’s movements, up and down. “Fuck bub, you look so gorgeous like this. You’re doing so incredible. You were made for me. Made to make me feel good.”

Max closed his eyes and moaned around, pumping himself even faster. The words of praise were like electricity straight to the pleasure center of his brain. He practically whimpered as he brought himself close to the edge way too quickly. If he was a little more sober he would have tried harder to get Elliot off first, but his inebriated mind could only think about how good he felt.

Elliot used his other hand to stroke what he could reach of his shoulder and back, grasping his skin as Max moaned around him. He thrusted his hips gently to meet Max's timing. "Oh god, that's it, baby." He wanted more, he wanted to feel Max's body on top of his and just feel all of him. "Babe, babe... I want you to kiss me while i finish. I need you." He begged as he searched blindly for Max's free hand to interlock their fingers.

Max took Elliot's words as an order and immediately pulled his head back with a groan. He quickly crawled back up his body and connected their mouths in a filthy kiss. "Fuck, Ellie, you're so beautiful." He pressed their linked hands against the mattress above their heads and straddled Elliot's waist so he could start pumping both of them at the same time. He locked lips with him again and moaned into his mouth.

Elliot moaned into Max's hot mouth, he could feel his swollen lips against his as they ravished each other. The hand still present in his hair pulling him somehow impossibly closer as their tongues danced together. The room was soon just filled with moan and groans of delight as Elliot was coming closer and closer to completion. He never wanted anything more than Max in that very moment. His beautiful, gorgeous sweet, Max.

Max pressed his forehead to Elliot's and, with his inhabitations lowered, started moaning his praises against the other man's lips. "Oh, fuck. Ellie, Ellie, Ellie." His tipsy mind couldn't contain his emotions as his orgasm hit. "Oh, god, I love you. I love you. Please come for me."

Elliot’s orgasm hit alongside his partners, not registering what Max had said until he had come down from the glorious high. He stilled for a moment and pulled back to really look at Max. “What did you just say?” He asked with a small upturn of his mouth. One hand still playing with his hair while the other squeezed his hand tighter.

Max collapsed on top of Elliot and buried his face into the man's chest. His face was bright red and the blush began to spread further down his neck with the combination of the alcohol in his system, physical exhaustion, and the embarrassment of his admission. He wouldn't take it back though. He'd never been in love before but he couldn't think of any other way to describe the way he felt about the older man. "Pretty sure I love you," he reiterated, mumbling the words against Elliot's chest.

Elliot wanted to see his face, wanted to watch him say it. He felt like he was hearing things, there was no way Max felt that way about him. How could he? Especially after how he treated him today. Regardless of it being unbelievable to Elliot, is was only so because Elliot was pretty sure he loved Max, too. Not just that he loved the man but he was falling deeply in love with him and it was the scariest thing he’d ever gone through.

He sighed softly as he slipped out from under the boy so he could grab a rag to clean them up. He came back after wiping himself down and wiped the other man’s chest and softening dick before tossing the rag into the dirty hamper. Elliot grabbed the others hand in his again and laid to be level with him, looking into his eyes. “I love you, too.”

If he'd been a little bit more sober Max might have been worried during the time alone while Elliot left to clean them up. Instead he just laid back with his eyes closed, catching his breath. When he came back Max couldn't contain the silly smile on his face. "That's so cool," he said in response with a little laugh. He squeezed his hand back and pressed a kiss to his cheek, his jaw, then finally his lips. "Say it again."

Elliot chuckled and moved to hover over the tipsy man, smiling into the kiss. “Say what again?” He teased, acting oblivious with a small eye roll. He continued to kiss the man pressing his body against him and slotting their legs together.

Max sighed happily while enjoying the pressure of Elliot's body on top of his. "You looooove me," he tease. "And I love you. And it's completely mental but so awesome. I have a boyfriend that I love." He chuckled and shook his head, the moment feeling extremely surreal. "I promise I'm not even that drunk anymore. So it's really real. Definitely."

Elliot giggled at Max’s giddiness. It warmed him immensely. “I do, I do love you.” He grinned and kissed him in between phrases. “It’s really real, Max.” He looked into the others eyes, not wanting to look away, afraid this moment would end for him. “I don’t think I’ve ever been in love like this before.”

Max pushed his fingers into the hair at the nape of Elliot's neck and just let his hand rest their affectionately. "I know I haven't. Never felt like this for anyone. Never thought I would." He tilted his head a bit on the pillow and smiled up at his new boyfriend. "You came out of nowhere and turned my life upside down, Elliot Rose. Wish I could go back in time and tell my teenage self to get his head out of his ass so we couldn't connected like this earlier."

“I don’t understand why it’s me, Max. Why or how I’m the one to make you feel this way…” he spoke honestly as he kissed his temple. He shook his head. “No, we found each other at the right time. It’s meant to be this way… 5 years ago I wouldn’t have even given you a chance in the first place. You’re way out of my league and that would have scared me shitless enough to not even want to try. Plus, I was kinda a dick back then.”

Max furrowed his eyebrows and frowned up at the man. He push a finger up against his lips in a shushing motion. "Hey, hey, nobody shit talks my boyfriend like that. Not even my boyfriend." He closed his eyes and sighed. He was barely keeping himself awake, even while he continued to speak. "Out of your league my ass, just by the way. You're so hot and smart and successful. If anything you're out of my league. I just barely make it in the same bracket thanks to these chiseled good looks," he joked while making a sweeping gesture at his body.

“I think you’re the most incredible person I’ve ever met.” He spoke softly as he rested his head on the others chest. “I feel like the luckiest man alive. You’re so kind and respectful to me even when I’m incredibly difficult. You’re so gorgeous inside and out and I trust you. I trust you.” That was the hardest this for Elliot to do, trust was something he always felt people had to earn and with Max is was just so simple and genuine.

Max wrapped both arms around Elliot to embrace him in a guy. He kissed the top of his head and squeezed him tight. "I promise you I'm never going to betray that trust, not if I can help it. You know, I think I heard some saying one time, 'anything worth having isn't easy to get,' or some shit like that. That's you, baby. But I'm difficult sometimes too, so don't go thinking it's just you."

Elliot laughed. “Oh so you agree that I’m difficult?” He joked and kissed his neck. “I don’t think you’re difficult at all. You’re very easy going. Even when you’re punching Evan McIntosh. The punk probably deserved it anyway.” He laughed softly.

"Aren't we all difficult in our own way?" he joked, trying to talk himself out of that corner. "Easy going sure, but then I go and barge into an important meeting and fuck things up for you, so I think difficult is actually pretty accurate." Max huffed at the mention of Evan. "He did deserve it. I told him not to say shit about you but he kept pushing it. Think he was just pissed I turned him down. Plus apparently he really doesn't like you. Bad taste, clearly."

“I guess it is mutual despise for one another. She won’t admit it but he broke Marleys heart. Led her on for years and told her he didn’t love her. Just didn’t sit right with me. Marley and Elton tolerate him a whole lot better.” Elliot huffed. “But enough of that. I’m not going into the office tomorrow and I plan on spending the day with you.”

Max perked his head up in excitement and reached blindly trying to locate his phone. "Seriously? I gotta text Tash I'm taking the day off too." Spending an entire day with his new boyfriend sounded like a dream come true. He paused in his search and looked up. "That sucks about Marley. Total dick move on Evan's part."

Elliot grinned against his boyfriends skin. He still couldn’t believe he could call him that. He shrugged when he mentioned Evan again. “I never liked him for her, but maybe it’s cause I don’t think anyone is good enough for her. I’m annoyed he wasted her time.” He pressed soft kisses to his chest. “Are you going to make me breakfast in bed?” He raised a brow. “I’ll call off the whole crew and we can have the house to ourselves.”

"I will absolutely make you breakfast in bed," he immediately replied, eager to please. He rolled them over to press Elliot into the mattress and grinned down at him. "It's going to be shit compared to your fancy chef, but it will be made with love. And that's what counts," he teased while pressing a kiss to Elliot's cheek. He sighed happily and collapsed by his boyfriend's side. "Just me and you tomorrow. It's gonna be a good day."

"I like waffles." He laughed as the younger man rolled them over. "Waffles and fresh fruit shouldn't be too hard to mess up." He smiled at the man before he was laying by his side. "Just you and me, baby. i love you." He repeated but couldn't say it enough.

Max closed his eyes and hummed. "Mmmm, yeah, I can do waffles." He sighed happily while listening to his new favorite phrase. "Love you," he mumbled back.

#evanmcintosh #elliejamesrose #paras #malliot

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