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mooonjin · 1 year

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just the best of the best!!!

tbb ss2 spoilers!!

hey guys!!! im going feral!!!

"omega doesn't even have a place to sleep..." but its a progressive parallel

"laser sword"

best friends <3

triple chill

WHOAAAAAAAAAAA

"hmm, not bad!"

wrecker beloved!!

"they are both just kids, but they don't get to be. not in this galaxy..."

#star wars #the bad batch #tbb #the bad batch season two #hunter the bad batch #wrecker the bad batch #echo the bad batch #tech the bad batch #omega the bad batch #gungi #OMG HUNTER KNOWS SHRYYIWOK????#hunter is such a dad in this episode #HE SHINING #idk this episode is so col BUT SO SAD AT THE SAME TIME T #mooonjin

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a-lil-perspective · 2 years

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Hi Lil! ❤️

With Papa Hunter’s gaggle of girlies, how many of them, if any inherit his advanced senses? How does that affect them throughout their lives, like when they’re little and don’t understand what’s happening but just know they’re scared and overwhelmed. Or when they’re teenagers and are already dealing with a whirlwind of emotions and other things? So on and so forth, you get the picture haha 😂

how would Hunter deal with the ups and downs that come with having enhanced senses? I’m sure he would feel guilty but would also try to see the good in it? I’m sure Cyare would feel a bit helpless since she doesn’t experience having enhanced senses but I think her motherly instincts let her know exactly what her babies need 💕

I suppose the ask could be applied to all of the Dad Batch, but if you just want to focus on Papa Hunter that’s fine too ☺️❤️ s

Sorry for this long ask lol, I guess I had my own headcanons too!

Hello there!!!

Oh this is great, never apologize for long asks!!

Okay so this is one of the kinks I haven’t fully worked out yet BUT as a general outline here’s what I have (I will briefly mention the other Batcher’s kiddos):

Hunter:

Yes with so many girlies there is a fair percentage of them that inherit Hunter’s mutation, or a variation.

For example: Hunter’s eldest is shown to have sensory issues early on, she is quiet as a toddler because she is often overwhelmed with the world around her. Hunter understands.

I love how you also mentioned that Cyare feels helpless because she doesn’t understand what that’s like, but her motherly instincts give her an advantage in helping her ultimately understand what her baby needs.

Their third baby has augmented auditory traits. What I mean is she literally has super hearing. It definitely freaks the Uncles out at first.

And so on and so forth.

Not every single one of Hunter’s daughters inherit his enhanced traits but those that do, inherit bits and pieces as described above. Another example is one daughter is very sensitive to metals, another electronic feeds and fluorescent lights.

Wrecker:

Wrecker’s twin girls are born prematurely, so they are quite small starting out, ironically. Tiny but mighty. They have a few iron and musculoskeletal deficiencies they steadily grow out of/manage with a combination of physical and drug therapy.

Tech:

Tech’s girls do not have any defining inherited traits to speak of (other than their father’s intelligence but that is to be expected with any child of his).

Tech’s son is nonverbal and signs. He has a rare genetic condition called Lamb-Shaffer Syndrome. He does speak around 6 or 7 years of age but very sparingly. Even as his vocabulary and cognitive abilities grow he still prefers to sign through the years.

Crosshair:

My boy Asher is far-sighted and sports some cool glasses when needing to see up close. :) He was born full-term but pretty small and delicate. Also presented with a couple of vitamin deficiencies as a baby that he largely grew out of. He’s prone to muscle strains/aches; mild musculoskeletal ailments which I headcanoned Crosshair to struggle with in his youth (congenital muscular torticollis). He also has mild asthma.

Keidala only inherited her father’s mouth. XD HOWEVER (and I have discussed this in a previous post) she does develop a rare eye disease in her teenage years that causes her to gradually lose her sight. By the time she’s 16 or 17 she’s fully blind. Her Dad and Uncles have been working on special eye implants to give her some visual sensation where she’s impaired. She quickly picks up Braille and her and Crosshair bond over that because he’s well-versed in it and studied it long before was born.

So yes sorry that’s a lot but that is the basis!! It’s always a work in progress.

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amorfista · 8 months

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"Dads at the beach"

The Dad Batch (and Omega) deserve a day of blissful relaxation, I don't think there's anyone out there who wouldn't agree!

While Tech is taking the best nap of his life [Part 1], Omega and Wrecker joined efforts to make the coolest sand-Tipoca city [Part 2] there is out there!

But their mischief did not go unnoticed, and the Dads of the Bad Batch, who were trying to enjoy their drinks and straight up chillax, are having a bit of a hard time doing so with all of Omega's giggles and Wrecker's barely contained laughter!

-"The kriff are these devils up to now...?" - Echo says as he takes a sip of his piña colada.

-"I'll do you one better... How the kark is Tech sleeping through that..?" - Hunter mutters in disbelief.

...TO BE CONTINUED! [Part 4]

Alright... this one took a while. I'm very sorry for the huge delay on this drawing but... some parts of it made me lose my sanity :). I hope you can catch all the small details I laid here and there. Echo's shirt covers his Fives tattoo, which is a bit sad, but that's okay because there's another version ^^:

There, that's better🥴❤️‍🔥

This project has been quite difficult and I have a lot of things that I'm not too proud about. I suck at backgrounds and I definitely am NOT GOOD at making a line of palm trees :') The characters aren't that well incorporated in the drawing, I would have liked to make more fun little things here and there (which I'll save for future drawings) and the colors, well, let's just say I can smell them now. I don't know what's right and what's wrong anymore ;V; so sorry in advance </3. THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE AND SUPPORT!!! Although this is a challenging project, I'm VERY happy to see myself improving little by little, and your encouragement helps me push through ANYTHING!! I'll do my best again in the next one!! 💕💕

TAGLIST (let me know if you want to be included too!) @dukeoftheblackstar @justalittletomato @darthmaulshispanichousewife @botherbother-blog @aftergloom @badolmen @ihaventpickedausername @ohboi @stardustbee @nik-barinova @the-chains-are-the-easy-part @gen-has-green-vibes @ejfivercommander @herbalinz-of-yesteryear @eyecandyeoz @noesqape @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @staycalmandhugaclone @callmesunny04 @freesia-writes @ginnymilling @sunshinesdaydream @blueink-bluesoul @cloneloverrrrr @moon-wrecked @idontgetanysleep @tech-aficionado @followthepurrgil @renton6echo @queenjiru @shoe-bag

#star wars #clone wars #the bad batch #the clone wars #tbb echo #tbb hunter #hunter tbb #echo tbb #the dad batch #the beach batch #clone force 99 #the bad batch fanart #tbb fanart #my art

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luceafarul-de-dimineata · 1 month

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Tired dad!Lucifer AU - Part 1

(This was written before the Gamigin event, so there are OOC elements. Not proof read, fuck it we ball)

Lucifer never saw children before, so he just assumed that the small devils where just... like that. One of them was sleeping and the others were running away from the one with blonde hair and dark skin who was holding a massive centipede in his hands. Lucifer turned to his assistent/most trusted general while never taking his eyes away from the rascals.

Lucifer: Morax... what are these?

Morax: I'm not sure, your majesty... they look cute, though. Can we keep them?

Lucifer: I don't think we have much of a choice.

One of the children bumps into Lucifer and looks up at him with his blood red eyes.

Asmodeus: Daddy?

Lucifer looks with disgust at the almost naked child, blessing the loin cloth for preventing him from seing what he didn't want to see

Morax: Aww, he thinks you're his dad. No, little falla, his majesty Lucifer isn't your daddy. You're daddy is up in the sky and He's constantly watching everyone. But He's currently busy with the angel revolution, so He has no time to look after you.

Leviathan: Does he care about the angels more than us?

Morax: Not neccessarly, but they're very loud, so He has no choice but to listen.

Satan: AAAAAAAAAA

Instinctively, Lucifer kicked Satan in the stomach. Instead of groaning in pain, Satan came up to Lucifer again and started jumping.

Satan: Again! Kick me again!

Lucifer: What even are these creatures? Are you demons?

All the devils in unison: Yes!

Leviathan: You're angels, aren't you? Filthy angels...

Morax: Actually we're demons now as well.

Lucifer: You know Morax, sometimes I wish that it was your mouth and not your eye that was missing...

Morax: I apologise, your majesty.

Lucifer: If you ment it, you would have shut up a while ago. Anyway. Devils, I am Lucifer Morningstar and it is my God given duty to look after you. My job is to make sure that hell becomes as prosperus, if not more so, than Heaven itself. I have heroicly endured great tragedy to reach you and I- what are you doing, how did you climb on me. Take that repulsive organism away from my visage, do you have any idea how unsanitary it is to have a Biota Eukaryota Animalia Eumetazoa Protostomia Arthropoda Mandibulata near your mouth!

Beelzebub: I like your funny words, magic man.

Asmodeus: Shove it in his eye! That'd be hot!

Morax tryes to gently remove Beelzebub, who had climed on top of Lucifer trying to force the bug in one of his holes. The other children were laughing, even Leviathan slightly smirked at seing the former angel's struggle.

Lucifer: You, are the worst batch of brats I've ever seen. I am calling God and demanding to be taken back to Heaven! You filthy little idiots.

Morax: Ok, kids, today we learned an important lesson. Don't try to force centipedes in Lucifer's eyes or he'll be very sad. You don't want to make people sad. No no no. Sad is bad.

Lucifer was impatiantly calling God who wasn't answering. Unbeknownst to him, Gabriel changed God's sim card. Morax on the other hand was very condecending to the young devils, but it wasn't out of disrespect, that's just how he usually talks.

#whb #what in hell is bad #whb lucifer #whb morax #whb asmodeus #whb beelzebub #whb satan #whb leviathan #tired dad!Lucifer

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ariisheresstuff · 1 year

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I Will Always Love You

Pairings: Pre-Outbreak!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Joel get into an argument that ends up becoming nasty, you start to think to yourself if Joel even loves you anymore.

Genre: Angst + Comfort

Warnings: Yelling, cursing, fighting, crying, etc.

MasterList

A/N: My requests are open, have a good day! <3

“Jesus Christ Joel, you never listen to me!” “Baby, please. Just let me finish explaining- “No! I’ve had enough of your excuses!” You and Joel were apparently getting ready for bed but clearly having an argument gave you a decision. It was around 11 PM almost close to midnight. Sarah was already asleep, but Joel was getting worried if Sarah woken up due to you yelling at him. You and him been arguing for almost three days about him not always being there for you. “Darling, I get you’re upset. But it’s not on me about my schedule with work.” You scoffed at him as you changed into your pajamas. “Oh, so it’s on them when you go to the bar after work and not coming back until 1 in the fucking morning drunk?” You stood in front of him with your arms crossed. Joel groaned as he ran a hand through his hair. “Jesus, Y/N. What is your issue?” You looked at him and gaped at him. “Are you serious right now Joel? My issue is you not being home all the god-damn time! I miss you! You’re daughter misses you! You need to stop the act and get your shit together!” That’s when he snapped, “I’m trying, okay?!? I try Y/N! You don’t know how I lived without you, with Sarah being a newborn! Don’t tell me how to parent and do shit I know how to do! You don’t know what me and Sarah went through. Don’t start that bullshit.” You jumped as he yelled in your face, his breath hitting your cheek with how close he was to you. You hear him breathing hard, his nose flared, his shoulders heaving as he glared down at you. You felt a lump in your throat as you backed away from him. You looked up at him as your eyes watered. Your throat hurting from holding in your cries. You sniffled loudly making Joel’s eyes go wide. “I-I, I-I’m sorry, J-Joel I- didn’t mean to get- “Baby, hey. C’mere. I didn’t mean to get all aggressive” Joel soflty cooed at you as his hand reached for you. You backed away as you turned away from him. “Don’t, hey, Y/N.” “N-no, it’s okay. I-I’ll sleep o-on the couch t-tonight. I-I’m sorry.” Joel called your name as you grabbed your pillow before giving him a sad smile as tears ran down your face. Joel could feel his heart breaking at the sight of you crying. He just wanted to hug you and kiss you. Telling you it was gonna be okay. He sighed as he rubbed his face in frustration. “Jesus Christ.” He mumbled as he heard you sniffle and hiccup from downstairs. He sighed as he decided to give you space to calm down, even though he wanted nothing more than to hold you.

The next morning, Joel woke up with a groan. Not getting that much of sleep from what happened last night. He smelled breakfast cooking, he quickly got out of bed before walking downstairs. He entered the kitchen to see Sarah eating eggs and bacon. Then he saw your back facing him as you made more eggs and bacon. Sarah turned to face her dad. Joel gave her a smile as he kissed your curly head, “Morning baby, you sleep well?” Sarah nodded “Slept like a baby.” She joked making Joel chuckle as he poured himself a batch of fresh black coffee. He turned to you with a frown as you didn’t even look at him, he placed a hand on your shoulder. He felt your body go tense before relaxing, he rubbed his thumb in comforting circles. You sighed quietly as he walked to the table where Sarah was. He sat down across from her, only to find her staring at her dad. “What?” “What’s going on?” You turned to face them as you walked to sit down with a plate of eggs, you looked at Sarah before looking down. “What do you mean kiddo?” Joel asked again clearly knowing what Sarah was talking about, Sarah gave her a dad a really? Look “Nothing baby girl.” “You don’t have to lie dad.” You sighed making Sarah look at you, you looked back at her before giving her a small smile. “I’m fine babe.” “Clearly not, you and dad haven’t made eye contact, talked, or even kiss this morning.” “Just a small disagreement last night.” You shrugged as you continued eating your eggs. “I-is it about me?” Sarah said with a hint of fear and sadness, “No, baby. It wasn’t about you I promise.” Joel immediately cupped his daughter’s face as he rubbed his thumb over her cheek in a affectionate manner. “Is it something bad?” “Just adult stuff.” Joel said making Sarah sigh and decide to stop asking about the situation. She got up to put her plate in the sink where you were starting on dishes. Sarah put her plate in the sink before she gave you a comforting smile, you smiled back at her as she went off to do whatever. Leaving you and Joel alone. The tension was so sharp that you could cut it with a knife. You and Joel didn’t speak the whole day, not even making eye contact. You honestly felt like this was gonna be the end of it between you two.

It was around 9:30 PM and you were tidying up the living room, Sarah was sitting on the couch as she watched TV. “Are you okay?” She asked you making you turn to face her “I’m fine hun.” “You sure, you been really quiet today.” “I promise, just one of those days.” Sarah really wanted to know what happened last night, she was a heavy sleeper so she clearly didn’t hear you and Joel yelling at each other. “You and dad got in an argument, didn’t you.” You froze at what you were doing before sighing “Just some stuff going on.” “Is it bad stuff?” “I-I-I don’t even- “Don’t tell me you guys are splitting up.” “What? No! Babe, nothing like that. It’s just you’re dad hasn’t been home much due to work a-and I just want him home more. W-with me and you. I-I don’t want him to tire himself out.” You sat down next to her as she nodded at you. “I-I’m sorry.” “No, don’t apologize honey.” She quickly gave you a hug making you yelp softly. You felt your eyes burn as you hugged her back, closing your eyes as you enjoyed this moment. You both pulled away as you cupped her face admiring her beauty. You ran your fingers through her curly brown hair as she smiled at you. “Go get ready for bed, okay? You got school tomorrow.” She groaned making you chuckle, you kissed her cheek before telling her goodnight. You watched her walk upstairs before you sighed as you thought about Joel. After a few minutes, you heard footsteps walking down the stairs. Joel. You looked at him as he looked at you with sad eyes. You looked back down as he sighed and walked over to you. He sat down next you, you could smell his cologne. You could feel tears forming in your eyes. You felt his arms wrap around you and pulled you into his chest. You couldn’t hold it in anymore as you sobbed into his chest. You sobs muffled into his shirt. “It’s okay baby, I’m so sorry.” He rubbed your back as he kissed your temple a few times as he whispered comforting words into your ear. He could feel your shoulders shake and your warm tears seeping into his shirt he wore. He cupped your face from his chest as he admired your face. He sighed seeing your face stained with tears. Eyes red from crying, as your eyebrows furrowed. He wiped your tears away before placing a long kiss on your forehead before kissing you on the lips. You hiccuped as he did. You had a grip on his his shirt as if he would disappear. He pulled away but still kept your face in his hold. “I-I’m sorry Joel. I-I know you’re j-job is important a-and you work hard- Gosh, I-I’m such an idiot.” You whimpered making Joel look at you with sad eyes “Hey, darling. Don’t say that.” “I-it’s true though, I-I always j-jump to conclusions, N-no wonder why e-everyone h-h-hates me.” You felt more tears fall down your cheeks as you hiccuped. Joel couldn’t believe what you were saying. “Y/N.” You slowly looked up at him with watery eyes that cleared your vision, Joel wiped your eyes with his thumb. “Listen to me baby, I don’t ever wanna hear you talk like that about yourself. You understand me? You are the most smartest, beautiful, caring, loving woman I ever met. You make me feel like there’s nothing else that would me happy besides you. And the fact that you make sure I’m okay before putting yourself first, says a lot about you hun. I’m so great full to have someone like you in mine and Sarah’s life. You complete me and her baby. I love you, I always will.” You stared into his chocolate eyes as you felt more tears well up in your eyes. You gave him a watery smile as your lower lip trembled. Joel gave you a smile before pulling you Into a hug. “I love you so much darling. I’m sorry about last night.” “N-no it’s my fault. I-I’m sorry Joel.” “Don’t be baby. I love you. And that’s all that matters, okay?” He cupped your face as he wiped your cheeks as you gave him a smile. He leaned down to kiss you passionately. You both sighed as you enjoyed the kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he held onto your waist to bring you closer to him. You two enjoyed the moment before pulling away for air.

You both looked at each other, enjoying this moment before smiling. “Thanks for being here with me darling. I don’t know how you deal with my ass.” You giggled making him laugh “It takes a lot of work.” You joked making Joel gasp at you making you laugh “Well, maybe I should reward you for being so hardworking, Hm?” He purred in your ear, his southern voice sending shivers down your spine. He started kissing your neck as you moaned quietly. You ran your fingers through his hair as he marked his work on your neck. “You better be quiet this time Mister. I’m pretty sure Sarah is traumatized after last time.” Joel rolled his eyes playfully before he pulled you into his lap as he took off your shirt enjoying the view of you. “Then we’ll just have to be extra careful this time baby.” He purred making you bite your lip, “I think that’s all on you babe.” You purred in his ear “Well, will see about that darling.” He picked you making you yelp as he walked you guys to his bedroom. You giggled as the two of you made out while walking to his bedroom. You and Joel prayed that Sarah was already asleep.

Tag-List: @otomefan @amis-love-bugs @slasherstories123 @avengersfan25

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earthry · 8 months

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@copiasjuicebox - hello friend! im sorry you're having headaches aa let me take your 'writing cute copia' shift for tonight <3

Miscellaneous Cute Copia x Reader Headcanons

He's the type to baby talk his rats and call himself their dad and you their father (or papa or whatever variation you're more comfortable with).

Likes making mini versions of his meal whenever he cooks so the rats can eat with you guys. They have their own little spot kind of like a kiddy table but for rats.

Always checks in with you when it comes to physical affection or any kind of PDA and respects your boundaries. The first time you check in with him in return, he flounders a bit, unsure how to respond. No one has ever asked him before you, and he gets a little teary eyed and asks if he can hug you. From then on, you always make sure to check in with him too.

Likes to sing to himself when he's alone with you or at home. He definitely is prone to forgetting lyrics and I feel like he's the sort to just make up the lyrics on the spot by just singing whatever he's currently doing or thinking. It's made you giggle more than once before, and he loves nothing more than making you smile.

Doesn't really cry that much during sad movies, but will absolutely bawl like a baby any time there's a scene where the underdog finally gets their dreams. You tease him just a little bit for that.

It becomes a tradition to decorate cookies together during the holidays. One year you gift him rat-shaped cookie cutters and since then he refuses to use any other cutters. He likes to decorate at least one batch to look like his rats, and will give each corresponding rat their cookie as a little treat for the holiday.

Sometimes he'll ask for a kiss and say it's for good luck for 'so and so' but he secretly just wanted to kiss you and was too awkward to ask directly.

Definitely keeps pennies he finds on the ground and will show you and tell you that they are lucky pennies. If you tell him you don't believe in that sort of thing, he gets the biggest, saddest puppy dog eyes until you say that you do.

#is for u!#the band ghost #copia #ghost band #ghost bc #papa emeritus iv #cardinal copia #papa emeritus iv x reader #cardinal copia x reader #hope you dont mind!#feel better soon #sending good vibes #<3

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callsign-dexter · 10 months

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First Huge Fight Pt. 3

Summary: Jake and Y/N have their first big fight. Hurtful things are said and regretted. Can they make up before it is too late? Or will the Seresin-Bradshaw household be turned upside down?

Pairings: Bradley Bradshaw x Jake Seresin, Bradley Bradshaw x Daughter!Reader, Jake Seresin x Daughter!Reader

Warnings: angst, bruising, blood, car crash, inaccurate medical talk, swearing, hospitals

Masterlist

Our Little Girl

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

The warmth of the lake water at the family lake house is what brought Y/N out of her daydreaming along with an electrifying jolt through her body. Why would she be at their lake house? She was just in an ambulance.

There was a distant beeping noise in the background.

"Pulse is back. Vitals returning to normal." Someone said off in the distance. "Someone please notify the family." The voice continued.

"You know he didn't mean it right?" A voice sounded from behind Y/N and it startled her. She turned around and saw the most beautiful woman standing there, she looked exactly like Jake, this must be Dakota. "He loves you." Dakota said.

"The way he said it made it sound like he didn't. He said he wished they would've saved you instead of me." Y/N said, replaying the fight.

"Jake says a lot of things that he doesn't mean. I watched the whole fight and his reactions. He regrets everything he said and did." Dakota replied, "You both love each other even if hurtful things get said." She continued. Dakota walked over to the young girl and placed a hand on her cheek which Y/N leaned into. "You look so much like both of them." She said.

The beeping kept going and it was bothering her but she ignored it. Until a voice came in.

"You can try talking to her. Sometimes they say it helps them come back and they can sometimes hear you." A nurse said to the family that were led into the hospital room. It was silent. "You're allowed to touch her." She added. "I'll be right at the nurse's station if you need me." She said and walked away.

Dakota and Y/N had walked into the Seresin-Bradshaw Lake house and were at the oven making cookies, cookies her Grandma Carole taught her how to make.

"I never want this to end! We're having so much fun!" Y/N said to Dakota while putting another batch in the oven and set the time. She turned around and to the island where Dakota handed her a cookie and they began eating.

"Time is endless here but you have to go back eventually." Dakota said in a sweet voice that mother would do while talking to their kid while Y/N looked out the window. "Your time is not done here and you need to wake up." That made her head jerk to Dakota.

"What did you say?" She asked, confused. A ringing beep went through her mind "Do you hear that?" She asked again.

"I said time is endless here. I don't hear anything Sweetie." Dakota said just then a version of Goose came into view.

"Hey, Chick. They say sometimes coma patients can hear loved ones and I'm hoping you can. Your Dad and Pops are worried sick. I just want to know what happened to make you drive into a storm. I just hope you wake up, I need my pranking buddy back." He said. He got up and bent over and kissed her on the forehead "I love you, Chick." He whispered close to her ear. He walked out of the room feeling his heartbreak.

She felt the kiss on her forehead and his breath on the shell of her ear when he whispered. She could also smell his scent that smelt of cinnamon. She missed that smell.

"What made you drive in the middle of the storm?" Dakota asked

"I wanted out of the house away from Pops. I wanted Grandma and Grandpa Goose. I was going to see them." She said a bit sad. She felt guilty that she's putting stress and breaking her loved one's hearts. Just as she was getting ready to speak, Carole appeared.

"Hi, honey." She said in a hushed voice but still cheerful voice. "I fully believe you're listening to us." She paused and grabbed her granddaughter's hand and started to rub it. "I really miss you. You're my best student when it comes to cooking, don't tell your dad I said that." She giggled. "You're my best girl, I don't want to lose you. Everyone is waiting for you to pull through. You're our little fighter. I love you Y/N/N." She said and kissed her hand and reached down and hugged her.

Y/N giggled at what she was saying. She felt her hand tingle and she looked down at it and then felt her whole body get warm from the hug and then the warmth left. She could smell brown sugar and lavender. She missed her. Why did she have to get into that truck? She should've just stayed put. The timer to the oven brought her out of her daze but Dakota was already pulling them out of the oven and bringing the cooled-off batch over to where Y/N was sitting on the couch and sat down with her with the cookies in front of them.

"They miss you." Dakota said.

"Yea I know but I don't want to go just yet." Y/N said.

"That's ok. You know it was my decision for them to save you if they couldn't save us both. It wasn't your fault." Dakota said and reached over to get a cookie for each of them and handed her one.

"Then why did Pops say that?" She asked.

"It was out of anger. It was my decision." Dakota told her. Before either one of them said anything else. Ice walked in.

"Hey there, Sunshine." Ice said. "How's my beautiful girl doing?" He asked knowing he won't get a response while pushing hair out of her face and occasionally rubbing her forehead. "I saw the truck. It's pretty bad but we all can fix it. That's what we do best." He said coming to rest his hand on her cheek. "You're worrying us all, baby. Everyone just shut down. We told the others what happened but refrained them from coming in until you're awake." He told her and watched her chest rise with the help of the ventilation machine. "I'm just hoping you wake up and jump up telling us all this is a joke, but I know it's not." He paused and was silent. "Cyclone and Warlock were asking about you just a little while ago, we didn't give much detail." He told her. "Cyclone doesn't want to admit it but he has a soft spot for you and we all can see it." He laughed "I guess I should let the others have a turn. I love you, Sunshine." He said and kissed the side of her head.

She felt it and could smell his lemon and jasmine scent. She just wanted to reach up and hug him. "What day is it?" Y/N asked Dakota.

"Here it's a never-ending day but it's Friday 12 PM." She told her niece. Maverick was the next to walk in.

"Hi, Peanut." He began "I really don't know what to say. The last time I was here like this was when your Grandpa Goose had his accident but he pulled through, I know you will too, you have the Bradshaw stubborn genes." He said it was heartbreaking. "Peanut. You're strong as fuck, excuse my language, you've been put through extensive pilot trianing and even pulled g's, if you can survive that you can survive this. I believe in you and so does everyone else. We all love you and want you here with us. You're too young to leave this world, there is a lot left for you." He paused, clearing his throat trying to hold back tears but they were already falling "You're important to us all, even more important to Jake and Bradley. They need their little girl back, I don't think they could function without you." He said as he put his hand on her thigh and rubbed it. He got up and kissed her forehead "Be strong Peanut." He said and left.

She laughed at that and felt his hand on her thigh, the kiss on her forehead, and the breath on the shell of her ear. She could smell his jet fuel and sandalwood scent.

"Pilot training?" Dakota asked and Y/N laughed.

"Yea while Dad and Pops were on deployment Grandpa Ice, Grandpa Mav, Grandpa Goose, and Uncle Slider thought it would be fun to teach me to fly and be a WSO. I went through extensive pilot training and they didn't know about it and still don't." Y/N laughed at the memory and turned to Dakota.

"Are you all going to tell them?" Dakota laughed knowing Jake would flip.

"Eventually." Y/N said. She turned back around when Bradley came in and sat down and just sat there for a minute.

"Hey, Honey." He began tears already falling down. "This is really hard for me and your Pops. He's taking the worst of it." He continued "I hope you can hear me. They said talking would help but I don't know what to say. Last time I was in the hospital you were born and now this time you might wake up and you might not, I'm hoping for the first option." He said. “Honey, your Pops didn’t mean what he said. After the fight he went downstairs and shut down while I tucked you in. He beat himself up and actually cried the only other time I’ve seen him cry was when you were born and he held you. He loves you to the moon and back. I honestly think he loves you more than he loves his F-18. I love you so much, maybe even more than the Bronco and that’s saying something honey.” he said ending it with a sniffle “Please don’t leave us, I don’t think any of us would survive. We really do love you.” he took a shaky breath and ran a hand through her hair “If this is it and you’re ready to go, then that’s ok. We’ll miss you like crazy but we understand. I just hope you choose to stay with us. You’re the light of our lives. I love you, Honey. Come back to us, please.” he ended and kissed her forehead. A few tears dropped onto her hair and he lingered there for just a few minutes. He let out a shaky breath and left.

Y/N had tears running down her face. She didn’t want to leave her family. She felt his hand running through her hair, felt his kiss on her forehead and the tears falling onto her hair. She could smell his honeysuckle scent that reminded her of home. She loved them all. She couldn’t leave them not a chance.

“Sounds like you have people that love you.” Dakota said, making her jump.

“I do and I love them all so much!” she exclaimed “I don’t want to leave them. I just want to keep resting for a little bit. I’m just so tired.” she said and Dakota smiled.

“Of course Sweetie. You still have one more person to listen to.” She said and about 10 minutes later Jake walks in. It was now 1 PM in the other world.

Jake sat down and let out a shaky sigh “Hey, Sweets. I hope this will get to you. I’m so sorry for hurting you, yelling at you, saying I wish they would’ve saved Dakota instead of you, for all of it. I never wanted to turn into my dad but that night I did and I’m so sorry.” He said and tears started to fall. “From the day you were born you were the light of my life and I made a promise to not hurt you and I broke that promise.” he took a shaky breath “I love you so much and I will never stop saying it no matter what happens,” he said. “Slider would probably miss you the most out of all of us. He wouldn’t have anyone to help him mess with Ice or Mav and you know how much he loves to do that.” he gave a watery laugh. The next thing he said was from his heart and nobody knew except Bradley, Jake grabbed her hand and ran a hand through her hair, and leaned down next to her “The day you were born and they gave you to me, I thought my hands were too rough to hold you. And you cried no matter what we did. But your Dad said that that was a good sign, you were strong. It wasn't much comfort when I was holding you, pacing back and forth all night. All you did was look at me with those big, beautiful eyes. I made all kinds of promises to you if you'd just go to sleep. Y/N... I forgot to keep those promises... and I'm sorry. Do you forgive me? I'll tell you every day how proud I am of you, how proud I am that you're my daughter. Just stay with me... please.” Jake was full-on sobbing. He leaned over and gave a lingering kiss on her forehead and tears fell on her face.

“See he loves you and didn’t mean he said.” Dakota said looking at Y/N as she was watching her Pops. She was crying and she could feel him running his fingers through her hair and the pressure when he leaned over to kiss her forehead and the tears on her face. She could smell the woodsy scent and the lingering jet fuel from him working on his jet every chance. She couldn’t leave them “All you have to do is wake up, Sweetie.” Dakota gave her advice and that’s what she was going to do.

Jake ended the kiss and took his hand away from her hair and was about to start walking away when Y/N squeezed his hand and not just a light squeeze, a death grip squeeze and that made him stop short. “Sweets?” he asked and walked back to her as she started to cough and choke on the tube. “Hold on Sweets. Let me go and get someone.” he tried to walk away again but she wasn’t letting up on her death grip. Alarms were going off left and right and her heart rate was picking up alerting the nurses and they came rushing in which the other family members shot up from their positions and rushed into the room and saw the commotion. She was trying to grab the tube but Jake was stopping her then nurses and her main doctor rushed in and just as Y/N opened her light amber eyes and looked up at her Pops. They pushed Jake out of the way but she wouldn’t let him go “Sweets, it's ok. I’ll be right in here, they just need the space to work." That seemed to work because she let go of his hand.

Bradley went to him and pulled him back to the rest. Maverick was crying and holding his mouth. Ice was trying not to show emotion but it wasn’t working. Goose was holding Carole, keeping her from falling. Bradley was doing the same to Jake.

The nurses successfully removed the tube and put a nasal cannula on her and then backed away and some left besides on her main nurse, Nurse Alex. “I’ll get Dr. Hayes in here.” Nurse Alex said and they nodded. Once he was gone nobody dared to move afraid it was just a hallucination.

“Pops?” Y/N said in a raspy voice and held out her hand and he walked to her and grabbed it.

“Yea, Sweets?” Jake asked, tears streaming down his face.

“I forgive you.” Y/N said and Jake leaned down and he reached down and ran a hand through her hair he leaned down his other hand coming to the other side of the face and kissed her forehead, as she grabbed onto his shirt in a death grip. He leans down further and wraps his left hand around her head while her head rests on his bicep and closes her eyes as tears flow freely from both of them. Jake hugs her like his life depended on it and she clung to him like her life depended on it. She was never letting her family go again.

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#Our Little Girl #daughter reader top gun #daughter!reader top gun #top gun fanfiction #top gun x reader #top gun imagine #jake seresin x bradley bradshaw #jake seresin x daughter!reader #bradley bradshaw x daughter!reader

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wardenparker · 9 months

Text

In the Heights, part 1

Maxwell Lord x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: Mature, but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 17.5k Warnings: Cursing. Alcohol/food consumption, single dad Max, mention of divorce and unhappy marriage, probably inaccurate portrayal of being a high school student in the 60s, yearning, mutual pining, friends to lovers, the love is requited they're just idiots, the one that got away, high school crush, poor communication, mistaken sexuality assumptions, people being skeptical about Max, reader is full of sunshine, tipsy behaviours. Summary: A long time ago in a life that seems completely forgotten, you had a crush on your classmate Max Lorenzano. The world has changed a lot since then - but when you discover that your old friend is your new neighbor, it seems like some things have stayed the same after all. (This story contains flashbacks.) Notes: Part 1 of 2! I won't lie to you, guys. I love Max Lord. I love him in a way that is probably not healthy at all, so Keri has once again humored me and allowed for a little One That Got Away story with this sad puppy of a man. Also, I apologize for any errors I may have missed in editing. Cold medicine and being sleepy is a bad combo.

The sight of a moving truck isn't odd in any part of New York City. People come and go from these buildings so quickly that some people never bother to get to know their neighbors at all. The only reason you'd really noticed the one this morning was because it was out front when you were leaving for work and causing a little bit of a commotion with traffic. You'd skirted it and strode across the street to grab your usual cup of coffee and bagel with cream cheese from the bodega across the street before hitting the subway. Midtown doesn't seem far when you get to just sit and read during your commute, and you've never minded. But you tuck away the information about having a new neighbor and consider baking a batch of welcome cookies for them when you get home from the office tonight - it seems like the neighborly thing to do. You can take the girl out of the small town, but you can't take the small town out of the girl.

******

Max sighs as he hauls the last box up the stairs. Alistair has already started unpacking his room, and thank God he managed to pay the moving company to at least get the large items upstairs to the third floor wall up, but then the rest of the boxes had been left on the curb when they had figured out where they knew him from. He’s just lucky they didn’t take what he had with them, but it was again a reminder of how he had fucked up. New York is supposed to be a fresh start, a new beginning, but he doesn’t know if that’s possible for him.

The positive of someplace busy like New York was supposed to be that people would ignore or look past him. They always say New Yorkers are too busy to bother with their neighbors, and that’s something he wanted this time. To just blend into the background if he could so that Alistair could have a fighting chance and not be despised because of what he had done. Alistair, for the most part, remains as optimistic and sweet as ever. He knows that people are upset with his Daddy but his love never wavers. It’s enough to push him through the bad days, thank god, and to remind him that he’s doing this for a good reason. Starting over is for his son. He will find a way - any way - to make this work.

Things are different than D.C., the energy is different. He’s reminded of the days that he was in school, hopeful for the future. Max Lorenzano was teased and bullied in school, made fun of because of his poverty, his weird foods that he ate, the holes in his shoes, and his proclivity for learning. It had been his first life lessons, but the bullying in school was better than the beatings at home. Unsure of why he is thinking about those things, he takes the first load of boxes to the trash chute.

****

It’s sometime after dinner that the batch of chocolate chip cookies you put together are finally cool enough and ready to pack up. Stacking them neatly on a plate, wrapping it in cling film, and tying it up with ribbon, you head across the hall to meet the folks that just moved into Mrs. Cristian’s old place. An empty box marked Toys in the trash chute had clued you in to a child being present, so cookies seems even more appropriate now.

Even though Max is a miserable cook, he’s unpacking the kitchen when he hears the knock at the door. Frowning slightly, he wonders if the pizza he had ordered has already gotten here. He had assumed that it would take longer than fifteen minutes. “Coming!” He dusts his hands on his jeans and walks towards the door. Opening it up as he reaches for his wallet.

“Hi neighbor!” The words - bright and sunny - are out of your mouth before you even look up, having gotten distracted by the Torres’ cat in the hallway. But the second you do, your eyes go wide. “Max?” There’s no questioning it. It’s not like you hadn’t seen him all over the news or that you didn’t remember what had happened. Everyone remembered. Just…most of the billions of people in the world hadn’t known Max Lord since he was Max Lorenzano in Lubbock, Texas.

Instantly on guard, he’s halfway expecting to be attacked, or cussed out. That was the reaction of the majority of people who recognized him. He needed to dye his hair back to his natural brown. When the diatribe doesn’t come, he frowns and takes a closer look at the pretty woman in front of him for a moment before his eyes widen and your name comes off as a whisper like a ghost from his past

****

“Hey Lame-zano!” Max hunches over his books and speeds up, trying to ignore the boys behind him. Knowing that it would do no good to turn around and confront them. It would just speed up the beat down he knows is coming. “Hey weirdo! Fuckin’ stop!”

The boys don’t stop hollering as Max speeds up. They never do. Torture is the specialty of high school jocks, or at least these particular ones, and Max is their favourite target. “Max!” His name is hisses from somewhere off to the side, and an arm shoots out to pull him out of the hallway like he’s a bad Vaudeville comedian. He’s almost yanked off his feet, but for the girl he crashes into in the disused classroom. You hush him immediately, hand over his mouth, and quickly shut the door so the scions of the football team won’t see where he’s disappeared too. “Quiet.” You warn, carefully peaking through the window to make sure they walk by.

He crouches down, grateful that you had pulled him out of the line of fire, face burning in shame at the same time. To be rescued by the prettiest girl he’s ever seen seems to be his luck, knowing you are completely aware of his lack of masculinity. “Thanks.” He murmurs quietly.

“They’re shitheads.” You mutter, shaking your head as the group of boys howls on their way by. “Absolute shitheads.” There’s no real reason for any of the other kids to be so mean to Max, but logic never stopped cruel people from being cruel. Max is different so they’re mean. It’s as simple as that.

“They are still better than I am.” He huffs, terrified they will find him and humiliate him in front of you. It’s a dirty feeling, to know that you are going to be here to witness his utter ruination.

“How?” That doesn’t make any sense to you, and your brow furrows at him as you lean back against the door. You’ll give it another minute or two before you both go out there. Maybe the trio will move on to another target for a while. Sometimes that target is you, but you’d take it every time if it meant they would leave Max alone. “You mean they’re better at playing football than you? Who cares?”

“They are popular.” He reminds you. “Their parents are influential. People respect them.” Respect is what he craves, yearns for.

"They're bullies." And it stings, because one of those awful idiots out there is your own cousin. But because you have different last names, most people don't know. You want nothing to do with him and vice versa. "People don't respect them, they're either ass kissers or afraid." Shrugging slightly, you cross your arms over your chest, knowing that you don't exactly sound very ladylike at the moment. You could care less at the moment, though. You would only care if cussing offended Max.

“You don’t understand.” Max shakes his head and stares at you. “Why are you hiding from them? They don’t torment you.” He’s jealous of that, if he’s honest, but he’s also grateful that they don’t. Knowing that you are too good for that, for him to even talk to.

"Sure they do." It might not be as loud or as often, but they still pick on you. "Yesterday Lewis Sinclair practically pulled up my skirt in chemistry class because I answered too many questions correctly." You shake your head again, scowling this time. "They're all awful. You shouldn't listen to what they say."

“They are right, I am a loser.” Max snorts, standing up when they have passed by and don’t seem to be doubling back. “Everyone knows it.” He’s learned that he will have to reinvent himself, become someone people want to know. It’s how he will become important and successful.

"You're not." At least, you've never thought so. But maybe that doesn't count for much in his view of things. It's not like the boy you've had a quiet crush on since seventh grade has ever looked at you more than a few times - and even then it was to ask you for help in class. This might be the longest conversation you've ever had with him. "They're mean because you're different from them. That doesn't mean you're a loser."

“I guess it doesn’t matter.” He sighs and looks down at his feet. “Are you going home after this? I think we’ve missed the bus.” That means he will get home late to do his chores. Which means he will get yelled at if his father comes home early.

"We could walk?" Neither of you lives too far from the school despite most of the town being spread out to small farms or ranches, or even just decent-size patches of land. You know for a fact that the Lorenzanos live pretty close because you moved closer to them just last summer. The implosion of your family's happily little bubble wasn't public knowledge, thank goodness.

“Okay.” He bites his lip and wonders why you want to walk with him. If it’s some sort of trick. He nods and decides that walking with you is better than being alone. “Do you need anything from your locker?”

"Yeah." Nodding, you hold up the books in your arms. "I need to swap these and grab my jacket. It will only take a second, I promise." It shouldn't make you feel so warm and pleased that a boy - this boy - wants to walk home with you, but he's sweet. He's always been sweet. Ever since he moved here when you were kids. It was a shame when he came to school one day with no trace of his accent left, but it hadn't made him any less cute.

“Hopefully they won’t double back, so you can take your time.” He doesn’t want to rush you, even though every second counts. It’s the most he’s ever talked to you and he likes it. You are nice. It doesn’t hurt that he has been harboring a crush on you.

Opening the classroom door carefully, you poke your head into the hallway to see it mostly cleared and swallow a sigh. "I think they're gone," you murmur, reaching back to wave for him to follow you. "C'mon. We'll be on our way home in no time."

“Hopefully I beat my father home.” Max huffs as he follows you out of the classroom and both of you hustle down the hall.

"Will you be in trouble if you don't?" That idea bothers you, but not knowing anything about his father, you're not sure if it's realistic or not. He wouldn't be the first kid to get yelled at or even hit for not following a rule.

“It- it’s best if we hurry.” Max admits, biting his lip. “I don’t know if he planned to stop by the bar before coming home and he doesn’t like it when my chores are not done.”

"I can help." You promise instantly, tugging your locker open to exchange your books and shove them into your bag to go home. Your mother is still working and will be for hours. As long as you're home and have dinner ready for her when she gets there, she doesn't keep track of what else you do.

“You-“ he’s momentarily lost for words at your offer. No one has ever offered to help him. With anything. “You don’t have to do that.” He promises.

"It's okay." The smile you give him at the opportunity to be helpful and spend a little more time with him, is brilliant. "Come on, we should hightail it and between the two of us we'll have everything done in no time."

“Are you sure?” He frowns, not wanting to take advantage of your kindness.

“Absolutely.” Slamming your locker closed, you grab his hand and head for the exit, feeling positively brave. Your crush on Max might be unrequited, but at least you can be his friend. Everyone deserves a friend.

“My house.” He grimaces and swallows slightly. “It’s not….fancy.” He feels his face get hot and he’s a little defensive. “But it’s clean. My mother says that being poor is no excuse for being dirty.”

“My house isn’t fancy, either.” When he doesn’t pull his hand away you just keep it, wondering why it’s taken you all the way to senior year to even do this much. You’ve never been particularly brave, but this is just…it’s just talking to someone. Right? “It’s okay. Fancy doesn’t automatically equal better.”

“Yes it does.” Max argues, looking at you like you are crazy. “Fancy is always better. It means that you can have the best.” He sighs. “One day I will have the best of everything.”

****

“You remember me?” As much as you remember him - every detail, down to the curve of his nose that he hates and the hair that he had dyed and apparently dyed back again - you didn’t expect him to remember you. It’s been years since the last time you saw him face to face. A whole ten years or more. He stopped coming back to Lubbock after a while and you didn’t exactly blame him. There was never anything exciting going on there.

“Of course I remember you.” You were one of the few good memories he had from Lubbock. “What are you doing here?” Of all the people in New York, he had never anticipated seeing you. And apparently his neighbor. He had expected you to be married and have kids, although that could still be true. His eyes drop down to your left hand and he can’t see it because it’s holding a plate of cookies.

“I—I live across the hall.” As startled as you are, you’re still standing in the hallway of your apartment building and you shift your weight nervously from foot to foot. “I saw a box in the chute marked for toys, so I thought I’d bring cookies and introduce myself.” Now that you know it’s Max, though, your cheeks are burning hotter than the early July heatwave. “Just…wanted to be friendly, that’s all.”

“It’s- it’s good to see you.” Max opens the door wider, motioning for you to come in. “How long has it been?” He knows exactly how long it has been since he’s seen you. Twelve years, two months and six days since he’s last seen you.

“Twelve years.” You answer far too quickly, but you step inside his apartment anyway. It’s identical to yours except being flipped - a mirror image that lets you know where everything is with only minimal thought. “It’s good to see you too. You’ve…well, it’s been a long time. I’m sure you’ve been up to a lot. You always had big dreams.”

He frowns, certain that you must have known about the dream stone incident. Been affected by it. “Yes, I did. That is over now.” He looks back at the closed bedroom door at the end of the hall. “All I want is to be a good dad.”

“Who says that’s not a big dream?” Carefully setting the plate down on the corner of his kitchen counter, you wipe your hands nervously and shove them in your pockets. “If you ask me, that's about the biggest dream there is. Parenthood is a big deal.”

“Yes.” He nods seriously. “I let Alistair down once, but I will not let him down again.” He sighs and looks up at you guiltily. “Do you have kids?”

“I was never lucky enough.” Something that your mother considers the ultimate failing. She considers your choice to be a career woman to be a betrayal of her plan for you. The fact that you wouldn’t just settle for any guy who would have you was a tragedy in her book. “I have a job I love, and a cat to keep me company.”

“I like cats.” Max offers nervously, looking around the apartment and wondering what you think of the mess he has accumulated. “Sorry I’m not unpacked.” He offers, eyes finding you again and finding you just as pretty as he remembered. Maybe more so.”

“I didn't expect you would be.” A smile quirks up the corners of your mouth and you can’t help being glad to see his hair back to its natural brown. You had seen the blonde in his tv commercials and on the news — it didn’t suit him. “Hell, I think it took me a month to unpack and it was just me and Dantes.” You fluster slightly, finding his eyes on you. “That’s…that’s my cat.

“Dantes huh?” His lips quirk up in a grin, something that hasn’t happened in a long time. “Like the Inferno?” He jokes.

"I named him after the Count of Monte Cristo, but he's as temperamental as a volcano." He still has the most beautiful smile, it twists your stomach exactly the way it did when you were teenagers. "You can come over and say hi anytime you like. I'm just across the hall...and even if I'm at work Dantes loves company."

“Alistair would love that. He has always wanted a pet, but….” He frowns, remembering that he had always said that he would get him one later and later never came. Another failing. “He would love it.” He finishes lamely.

"Come over anytime," you repeat, smiling a little brighter when that old, familiar crease notches in Max's forehead. "I'm sure Alistair and Dantes will get along famously." It will have the added benefit of getting to see him sometimes, and despite feeling ridiculous for still nursing your schoolgirl crush, you won't deny yourself a small, private pleasure. "It's nice to have an old friend around again."

You had been a friend to him, one of the few. The bittersweet pang of regret thumps inside him and he nods. “That would be good.” He agrees. “My- my ex-wife had animals and he- he misses them.” He admits.

“No problem.” Instinctively your hand goes out to him, touching him gently on the arm. “But I’m…I’m sorry to hear that. The ex part…”

Max can only blame himself. He had spent too much time chasing his dreams and Genji had grown tired of waiting for him to pay attention to her. He was lucky she let Alistair live with him, although it left her able to travel with her new husband. He shrugs. “She is happier and I am grateful for our son.”

“Sounds like you got the winning end of the deal to me.” You offer him a smile, knowing that transitions can be difficult. And divorces are never easy either.

“Only after almost losing him.” Max acknowledges, frowning as he remembers how frightened Alistair was, and how he had to run away because of Max’s mistakes. “But that is now the past. We are here for a fresh start.”

“New York is a great place for a fresh start.” He’s probably more than sick of talking about what happened, and you have no desire to sully this unexpected little reunion, so you don’t say a thing about it. “Definitely more to do than in Lubbock,” you joke instead.

“What brought you here?” Max asks, interested in your life since he last saw you.

“The intense desire to get away from my mother.” It’s only half a joke, and you chuckle when the corners of his lips turn up in understanding. “I work for a publishing house in Midtown. It’s good work and decent pay. And it’s a hell of a lot more interesting than editing articles for the Lubbock Avalanche-Journal and sitting through tedious dinners with whatever men my mother was trying to set me up with.”

“You never married?” He frowns slightly, unable to believe that someone would not have snatched you up.

“I was engaged once. It…didn’t work out.” Finding out he’d been cheating on you for half your relationship doomed that marriage before it could even start. You’re just glad that you had found out about it before walking down that aisle. You’re almost grateful that that girl out in St. Louis had decided to call you up and cuss you out. “What they say about airline pilots might not be true of all, but it’s certainly true of some.”

“I’m sorry.” He winces and shakes his head. “He must have been an idiot to let you slip away.” You had been his dream girl for a long time until he had met Genji.

"He wanted the world on a string." It was what he always said. It just wasn't until later that you had realized what he meant by it. "Sounds like we both had idiots in our lives. Otherwise she wouldn't have let you get away, either."

“I was never there.” Max admits. “Even when I was. I was too focused on becoming someone.”

"You'll be there for him now." You can hear him playing in the back bedroom, crowing happily over a spaceman toy. "And he's lucky to have you."

“I hope so.” Failure is one of Max’s greatest fears and he’s already done that.

"You never could see how special you are." It slips out before you can stop it, a slight shrug of your shoulders is the best you can do in pseudo-self-defense. He never did think much of himself, but the more you had gotten to know Max, the more obvious it was to you that that was a result of how his father treated him.

“You don’t know the things that I’ve done.” It’s selfish but he hopes you never find out. “I better finish unpacking the kitchen before the pizza gets here.” He knows you wouldn’t want to stay and he doesn’t want to be rejected so he doesn’t invite you for the pepperoni pizza.

"I, uh--I'll get out of your hair." The way he shuts down breaks your heart a little, but you nod your understanding. You've overstayed your welcome and he has never felt as strongly about your friendship as you did. That's just...well, it's just life. "It's...it's really good to see you, Max."

“It’s good to see you again too.” He promises, smiling slightly. “I’m sure we will run into you again. We are neighbors.”

"Yes. It's good to see you, too." With your heart in your throat, you nod and make yourself smile as you step back to go out the door. "I'll see you around, neighbor."

****

“So prom is coming up.” Max frowns slightly as he walks with you. He’s nervous because you haven’t said anything about prom and you talk about everything. He wonders if you have a date that you don’t want to tell him about. “Are you going?”

"I don't think so." Walking home together has become a ritual. Today you wrap your jacket a little tighter as you walk to block out the early spring chill and try not to get excited about the question he's just asked. No one else had asked you to prom, that's true. But you would have turned them down anyway -- you've been holding your breath hoping that Max would ask. "Can't go to prom without a date."

“We should go.” Max argues. “It’s Senior Prom. We can’t miss out on memories like that.” He’s been working on the weekends with his dad to save up for a tuxedo rental and a corsage. “The theme is ‘Enchantment Under the Sea’.” He reminds you.

"You...want to take me to prom?" You know the smile on your face is far too wide, but this is exactly what you've been dreaming of. These walks home, spending a little time at his house before his dad gets home from work, even starting to chat a little with his mother sometimes. You may not be Max's girlfriend, but you want to be, and you've made every effort possible to show him that.

“If you want to.” Max bites his lip. “I know you will probably have someone else ask you, and it’s okay if you’d rather go with them, but I’ve been saving up to buy a corsage and take you out to eat.” He admits. “I’ve been working with my dad.”

"I want to." It's too quick of a reply to be ladylike, but you don't much care about that. Not when you're actually being asked by the right boy. "With you. I want to go to prom with you. Yes."

“Yeah?” He’s surprised, but grins happily. “Then let’s go to prom together.” He nods, beaming and his posture straightens proudly. “You and me, we will have fun.” He promises.

"Yes, we will." Already convinced of it, you don't care a single second for anything or anyone else in the world right now. Max asked you to prom. That's all you've wanted for ages. "I'm going to make my dress," you announce, smiling up at him as you walk down the sidewalk. "My mother has some extra fabric from a wedding that she made dresses for. It's the most beautiful shade of blue you've ever seen."

“That will be good.” He nods. “Do you want me to match your dress?”

"If you want to." The idea is a little thrilling - looking like you belong together - and you nod. "I think you'd look very handsome in blue."

“Then that will be the tuxedo that I order.” He promises, looking forward to the idea of going with you and seeing you dressed up. For him.

It doesn't seem real that he would actually want to go with you, but as you walk alongside him toward his house it feels like the very best kind of dream. He isn't shy about wanting the best of everything, and you always encourage him, but it isn't like you're the prettiest or most popular girl in school. There are other, arguably better choices. But he still asked you. "I can't wait."

He smiles, amazed that you had said yes. He doesn’t know why, but you seem to like being around him. “We will have a good time. Dance and see what the fuss is about.”

"I don't think I've ever seen you dance." There's no reason you would have, all things considered, but the thought spreads your smile a little further.

“I can dance.” He huffs, almost insulted by the idea that he couldn’t. The fact that he’s been practicing in his bedroom by himself is irrelevant.

"I never said you couldn't!" When he pouts like that it makes you want to find out if his lips are as soft as they look but you would never try to kiss him out of the blue. Only fast girls kiss boys they aren't going steady with - and your mother warned you what happens to fast girls. Well...she's said 'And you know what happens to fast girls, don't you?', but you were always too scared to admit that you didn't have any clue what she was talking about.

“Good, because I can.” Just to prove his point, he stops walking and grabs your hand to pull you into his arms to dance a small little circle around right there on the sidewalk.

It's like a movie scene when he reaches for you, his hand on your back burning through you despite the chilly weather. You could just melt right into the pavement on the spot. "Well, look at you," you hum, feeling breathless with your heart beating so fast. "A real dancer."

“All gentlemen know how to dance.” He informs you, grinning widely as he lets go and steps back to bow gracefully.

"Then I'll have to work on becoming a little more ladylike for you before prom." A soft giggle escapes you when he bows, and you shift your bookbag on your shoulder.

“Don’t change a thing about yourself.” He protests, shaking his head. “You are just right as you are.”

"You're very sweet." As the two of you turn to start walking together again, your hand itches to reach for his so you shove it in your pocket. "The sweetest boy in the whole world is taking me to prom."

There’s nothing that he can say to that, his mind going completely blank except to repeat that you think he’s sweet over and over again. He bites his lip and tries not to look too happy about your comment.

"Have you heard back from any colleges yet?" He has talked about wanting to go. You've talked about it together, and he has so many ideas for what his business degree could turn into that it makes your head spin. But he hasn't said yet if he has had any acceptance letters so it's made you wonder.

“A few.” He sighs and wishes that he were rich or his family was rich. “I can’t go though.”

"You have to have been offered scholarships." You know what trouble he would have with being able to go. It's the same one you have which is exactly why your own mother told you to stop being stupid and forget about it. Colleges, apparently, aren't for girls.

“Not enough for Harvard.” He had already done the math, several times and just couldn’t afford it. “I have to turn down an Ivy League school because I’m too poor.” It stings and he hates it.

"I'm so sorry, Max..." His dreams mean the world to him, and you know it. But there are some things that are beyond even his grasp. If you could find a way to make the world perfect for him you would do it instantly, but that dream is still out of your grasp.

“It’s not your fault.” He swallows. “Have you been hearing from colleges?”

"No." You shake your head, staring down at your shoes as you walk. "All that work you helped me put into the applications and my mother took them out of the mailbox and threw them away." The words ring in your mind, her voice echoing in your head. "College isn't for girls."

“College is for everyone.” He argues, immediately upset for you. You had worked hard on those applications and they were really good. You would have gotten three of your choices for sure. “We can redo them, hope they accept them late?” He offers quickly.

"She wouldn't help me with tuition." And unfortunately, he knows that you would need financial help to go to school, too. "I would have to get a full scholarship somewhere, and even with good grades I just don't know if it would happen."

“If you don’t try, you won’t ever find out.” He reminds you. “Great rewards sometimes require great risks.”

He has no idea that he sounds wise when he says things like that, and when you tilt your head to peek up at him again he's looking at you so earnestly that you sigh quietly. It makes your heart ache to know how special he is to you and that he couldn't ever feel that way about you, but you'll soak up every ounce of his attention while you can possibly get it. Before he goes off and conquers the world or something. "You really think so?"

“I do.” He nods seriously and frowns as he thinks. “After- after my parents are asleep, I could sneak over and help you.” He murmurs quietly. “Apply to your top three and I’ll mail them off from my house. That way she can’t throw them away.”

"Tonight." You decide, ready to believe anything is possible if he has that kind of faith in you. "Do you really think you can manage to sneak out? I don't want you to get in trouble on my account." His father could lose his temper over almost anything, and the last thing you wanted was for Max to suffer any extra. Not for you.

“I can.” He smirks slightly and straightens proudly. “We will make sure you go to college.” He knows you want to be an editor, maybe even a writer one day and he knows that a good college will make that happen.

Overwhelmed with the idea that it could be possible, you surge forward and grab his arm, planting a grateful kiss on his cheek before you pull away again just as fast. Your own face is burning, but just in this moment you find that you don't actually care that much. "Thank you," you murmur, beaming at him with gratitude and excitement. "I don't know what I ever did to deserve such a good friend. Thank you, Max."

“Thank you.” He murmurs quietly. “You are the one who befriended me.” He reminds you. You had pulled him into that classroom and saved him for another beating.

"I should have done it a long time ago." The embarrassment of not being braver stings, but there's nothing you can do besides swallow it down.

“No.” Max shakes his head. “You did nothing wrong. We all do what we have to. You were just trying to protect yourself.”

"Still." There isn't any point in wishing to change the past. You know that and he's right that you were trying to protect yourself. "You deserve the world, Max. Really."

“One day I will have the world.” He vows, grinning at you. “And so will you.”

****

It's a random, seemingly unimportant Saturday morning when a small knock sounds on your door. You had been sitting with a cup of coffee and a muffin trying to convince yourself to work on the draft of the book that you had been chipping away at for years when you heard it. Dantes mewed at the sound like it was rude for interrupting his long morning of staring at the ceiling, and you just laugh. "No, no," you chuckle at your cat. "Don't disturb yourself. I'll get it." The prim Russian Blue doesn't move when you get up from your seat and you peer through the peephole to see no one standing there at all. Opening the door curiously, you find a little boy with impossibly wide eyes standing on your doorstep. "Well, hello." You've seen this little boy before, coming in and out of the building or on the stairs, always hugging tight to Max's side. "You must be Alistair."

“Dad said that you have a cat that I could play with?” He asks, curious to find out the truth of this. “He knows I was coming over. He said he would be just a minute behind me. Is that okay?”

"Of course it is." Stepping back to let him inside, you point through the kitchen to the cat tree. "That's Dantes. Let me get you some of his favorite toys and a few treats you can give him, and you guys can play in the living room, okay?" This is a cat who loves kids, so you're sure everything will go well, but you want Max's son to go into the first meeting armed with all the right tools.

“Okay!” He grins at you and nearly bounces on his toes with glee. “I’m excited to meet him. I’ve wanted a pet for a long time but dad didn’t have time, but I don’t blame him.” He tells you seriously, nodding for emphasis.

“Your dad is doing his very best for you, and that includes making sure you had a neighbor with a cat to visit. You’re welcome to come over any time you like, and your dad is too.” You leave the door cracked open for Max to follow, careful that it isn’t enough for Dante’s to escape, and bring Alistair to get the cat’s favorite things so they can meet.

Max had been washing your plate to bring it over to you again. Alistair had been too eager and had decided that he couldn’t wait to go meet Dantes. Max didn’t have the heart to tell him to wait, so he had sent him over and hoped you would understand.

When he tentatively pushes the door open a few minutes later, Alistair is on the living room rug dangling a toy for Dante’s to bat around with a bowl full of kitty kibble and assorted small treats for the cat and a muffin and glass of juice for himself. You’ve set yourself back up at your little kitchenette table a few feet away, though your manuscript is now pushed aside in favor of the New York Times crossword. “Hey.” When you spy Max’s head peak around the door, you wave him in. “Morning, neighbor.”

“It’s not too early, is it?” He asks, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him. “I wrangled him as long as I could.” He grins and shrugs. “But then breakfast was over.”

“It’s never too early.” Not for him is what you want to say, but instead you say, “not for friends.”

He snorts and shakes his head. “Not until coffee for me. I used to take all these supplements and herbs, but now it’s just pure caffeine.”

“Can I pour you a cup? I always make a full pot for some reason and never drink it all.” Up and out of your seat before he can even answer, you’re grabbing a mug out of your cupboard and pulling out the bakery box from your trip down the block this morning. “I also have more muffins than one human can manage. I guess the wind told me to be ready for guests today.”

“I’m sorry we showed up unannounced.” Max winces and looks around. “If you have plans…..” He doesn’t want to intrude on your day if you are busy. It would be easy to get Alistair to leave. He’s been promising to take him to Central Park.

“I was going to sit and curse at my manuscript all day,” you admit with a shrug and pour out his cup. “You saved me from getting frustrated with myself.”

“Oh! A book?” He asks, remembering your dream of writing a book. “Is it your first? Or are you published under a pen name?”

"This would be my first. I've been fighting with it for years and I'm still not satisfied with the second half of the story." Coming back to the table, you set down a mug of coffee and the box of muffins for him with a plate. "Alistair asked for the chocolate chip, I hope it's okay that I said yes."

“Of course.” He can’t help but huff in amusement. “Probably better than the burned eggs and cereal we had for breakfast.”

“Help yourself,” you insist, motioning to the box. Sitting down across from him like this is oddly familiar - like your high school cafeteria should materialize around you any second - but you don’t dislike it.

“I appreciate it.” He’s remembering all the times you had eaten together over the years. Including the one meal he bought you before prom.

“How is the job search going?” The few little talks you had had in the stairwell or while grabbing your mail from the boxes in the lobby had clued you in to how Max’s life is running these days and it’s an unfortunate reality. Since the incident people have been wary of him and even downright rude.

“I will find something soon.” He forces out cheerily. “I am hoping that a few places will call me back.” He doubts it, but all he can do is hope someone gives him a chance.

“I know it isn’t…Your dream or anything, but the publishing house I work for is expanding so they’re hiring all sorts of positions.” It was something you had been discussing ad nauseam in the office and had been meaning to mention to him anyway. Now is as good a time as any. “I can get a complete list from my friend in HR if you like? And I’ll vouch for you if you decide to put in for anything.”

“Are you sure you want to be associated with me?” He asks seriously. Some of the comments you have made lead him to believe that you know what happened last winter. “I don’t want to put your profession or your own job at risk.”

“I’m sure.” You’ve always been sure about him. He might not understand it - hell, sometimes you didn’t always understand it - but that’s just how you feel about him. “I know you, Max. I trust you.”

“You haven’t seen me in twelve years before this week.” He reminds you quietly, looking down at the blueberry muffin in his hands. “I wasn’t a good man.”

“I might not know anything about Maxwell Lord,” you lower your voice, not conspicuously but not wanting to perk Alistair’s ears. “But I know Max Lorenzano. He helped me get into college. Took me to prom. Listened to every story and fear and triumph that I had for years. You were my best friend, Max. Let me repay you for helping me believe in myself.”

Max swallows harshly, overcome with the glowing review of a boy who had been so ashamed of being poor. It sounds like you preferred him. “Thank you.” He replies hoarsely.

“I know it’s been a while.” But you’ve thought about him constantly, and even though you might not admit that to him so that you don’t have to have an awkward conversation with your first love about him actually being your first love, you’re not shy about wanting to help. “I’d like to be friends again. Like we used to be.”

“Like we used to be.” He nods. Friends where a shy and awkward boy had an unrequited crush on you. He had survived it once and he could do it again to have you back in his corner.

“Alistair’s very sweet.” It changes the topic cleanly because you don’t want Max to get a whiff of the fact that your feelings for him have come back nearly full force. Not that he had any idea the first time around. Or if he did, he hadn’t let you know it. Instead you put your focus on his son, the excitable little boy that he has put all his focus in himself.

“He is a good kid.” Max can easily agree with that. “I don’t deserve him, but for some reason he loves me.” His eyes drift to the living room and he smiles when he sees Alistair petting Dantes and cooing happily at the attention loving cat.

If you were bold, you’d promise him that he’s not difficult at all to love, but you’ve never been bold. You hadn’t even been bold enough to kiss him at prom. Instead you smile warmly and pick up your coffee. “You deserve much more than you think.”

“I think we will have to disagree on that.” He murmurs, snorting softly. “I didn’t realize what I was doing until I almost lost him. An angry mob, coming for me, scared him and he was wandering the streets of D.C. by himself.” He stares down at his coffee mug, glad to get this off his chest. “I would have never forgiven myself if he had been hurt.”

“What is life if not making mistakes and learning lessons?” You had been watching right along with the rest of the world while it all happened, but being on the outside must have been a very different experience than being where he was on the inside. “He’s okay. He’s safe, and he has a father who loves him. In time you’ll learn to forgive yourself like he’s already forgiven you.”

“Perhaps.” Max won’t agree with that, but he also won’t count it out. “First I need to prove that I can be useful. Helpful.”

"Sometimes it's okay to just have fun, too." But you won't push. Or press. "I haven't seen you since college," you say instead. "What have you been up to, besides having that angel of a little boy?"

“Married…divorced.” Max sighs and shrugs. “Tried to make Black Gold work. I really did. Convinced I was going to find oil.”

"There are lots of places in the world with oil. It isn't so crazy to think that you would find some." Anytime you had seen his name in the papers, you had tried to follow it. Unfortunately it seemed to be more bad news than good for the last few years.

“Except I never did.” He has made an uneasy peace with his past and shrugs slightly. “Perhaps it was for the best. I certainly learned humility.”

"There must have been bright spots." You can't believe that his entire adult life has been miserable.

“Not as many as there were during our senior year.” He admits with a small chuckle. “I was chasing the dream and didn’t stop to admire the roses.”

"Maybe that's what this is, then." The urge to take it as a compliment to you is there, but it would be conceited to think that he means you were what made it good. "Time to stop and admire the world around you."

“Admire the world around me, huh?” He contemplates it for a moment, wondering where you go so wise, but then he remembers that you have been living your dream for some time. Max just needs to figure out what his new dream is. “I think you are right.”

****

It took a couple of weeks for Max to go through the interview process, and your bosses had pulled you into a conference room with an HR rep for an hour of round table "Are you fucking serious?" about the fact that your name is listed as a personal reference on his resume. In the end they had relented. In eight years with the company you had never had a single mark against you on your file and you're one of the most productive editors on staff. If they're going to take anyone's word at all about a potential new hire, it's going to be yours. Now, two weeks into Max's time as a member of the office's janitorial staff, your coworkers are starting to take notice. They've noticed that you arrive together every morning and leave together every evening, and that sometimes you chat quickly in the hall in passing. Almost all of them have recognized him at this point, of course, and it seems like they've deputized your closest work friend to ask you about him.

Max is eager to please, finding that the work is not beneath him as he might have once imagined. He pushes his cart around the offices with pride and tries to ignore the dirty looks and comments. Especially the prick in editing that purposefully made a mess for him to clean up. Seemingly enjoying watching Max clean up after him. He sees one of your co-works walking up to you so he doesn’t stop, just giving you both a respectful nod and a small smile as he makes his way to the bathrooms for their twice a day cleaning.

It’s good to see him taking pride in what he’s doing now. Tangible results of his work being something that seems to satisfy Max in a way you hadn’t expected but are grateful to see. “Hey Kim.” She’s buzzing directly over to you without being subtle, so you slow down to talk to her.

“Soooooooooo.” She lifts her brows and looks at Max’s retreating back. Instead of the boxy power suits he had been wearing, he was wearing a pair of work chinos and a polo shirt. Perhaps a little more dressy than most janitors but it’s an effort to look professional. “This is interesting.”

“The hallway?” You raise a skeptical eyebrow at her, continuing to walk back toward your desks at the other end of the floor. “I don’t know that I would call it interesting.”

“You know what I’m talking about.” She huffs and jostles your shoulder lightly. “Max Lord.” She clarifies, rolling her eyes. “How do you know him?”

Yes, you knew, but that doesn’t mean you’ve exactly been excited for someone to come asking about it. You know what people still think of him. “We grew up together,” you tell Kim honestly. “Same home town in Texas.”

“You grew up with Max Lord?” Her eyes widen and flutter back towards the hallway where Max’s cart is sitting outside the Men’s restroom.

“Yep.” Trying to not make it seem like a big deal, you shrug. “We were friends. Now he’s my neighbor and we’re friends again.”

“Friends.” She’s skeptical about that, but she can’t deny that Max is far more attractive in person than he was in those horrible television ads. “Uh huh, if you want to keep your cards close…” she eyes you, waiting to see if you say anything else.

“What?” Her face says she doesn’t believe you, and she’s fucking right not to but you do your best to look innocent.

“You haven’t noticed that - despite being Max Lord - your friendly, neighbor janitor is a very good looking man?” She scoffs slightly and sends you a knowing look. “And just your type based on the men you like looking at when we drag you out to happy hour.”

“There isn’t any despite being with Max,” you defend instantly, feeling a little indignant. “He’s a good guy who did wrong and he’s doing everything he can to rebuild his life now.” It’s bad enough he got bullied in school, he doesn’t deserve that bullshit at work, too. “And—” Clearing your throat carefully doesn’t help you sound less guilty at all. “I…don’t have a type.”

Her brows shoot up at the vehemence in your voice and she doesn’t remind you that he almost destroyed the entire world with that wish granting trick he had pulled. She doesn’t think that you would listen and you are a good friend. “If you say so.” She murmurs quietly. “I just don’t want to see you hurt.”

"There's nothing for me to get hurt about." A fact which makes swallowing hard for longer than you're proud of, and you avert your eyes back to watching your shoes tread the carpet like you used to do in the halls of your high school walking side by side with him.

“Do you want to come out with us tonight?” Sensing that you are wanting to change the subject, she obliges. “We are going out for apps and drinks.”

“Sure.” It’s been a while since you had a night out with the girls - since Max appeared in your life - and it sounds like a good idea. Like having fun instead of sitting in your apartment hoping and wondering if he’ll come over to say hello after already being at work together all day. “The usual spot?” There’s a bar not far from the office that does great food, and sometimes there’s single guys from other nearby offices to flirt with. It usually makes for an entertaining Friday night.

“Absolutely.” She nods, shooting you a grin.

“Okay. I’ll just let Max know.” It will be the first time since starting his job that he’s committed home alone, but it’s not a difficult trip. He already knows the connections by heart.

“You…..you should bring him.” Kim says after a moment. “Let him hang out socially. Might help.”

"Are you sure?" The look you give Kim is skeptical, knowing that some of the girls you usually get drinks with might not be so warm about getting to know Max. And usually there aren't many guys that tag along. "Are any of the guys coming tonight?"

“There’s Brad and Dan.” She acknowledges, shrugging slightly. “It could be good for them to see him as a normal man.”

"It would be good for them to see normal human interaction." You roll your eyes, but only playfully. Brad is more than a little bit of a horndog and Dan seems to have learned everything about how to be manly from Brad. It isn't a bad thought. Getting to get to know some people outside of their roles at the office is probably a really good idea, actually. Contemplating it for a second, you nod. "I'll invite him. But if he ends up not being able to come it's probably because his babysitter couldn't stay late on short notice, not because he doesn't want to be social."

“Then I won’t tell anyone that he might come.” She decides, knowing that surprising them might them best thing anyway. You both stop at your desk and she reaches out and touches your arm, “I don’t want you to be cross with me.” She tells you. “I just wanted to see what was going on.”

"I'm not cross." Kim has always been a good friend, and you squeeze her hand back gently. "I just wish it were easier for him to get the clean slate he came here for. But you're right. Socializing will be good."

“It doesn’t help that he broadcasted his mistake.” Kim reminds you quietly. “But I have to admit, he’s been nothing but polite since he’s been working here. And the bathrooms are spotless.”

"He knows he did wrong. And everyone deserves a chance to start fresh." At least, that's what you've always said. And so far you haven't had too many people who made you briefly regret your optimism. "It's nice of you to think of inviting him. He really is a good guy underneath everything that happened."

“He’s attractive.” She has to admit, “especially with the darker hair that looks more natural on him.”

“The blonde didn’t suit him.” A nostalgic smile drifts across your face that you barely even notice but Kim surely does. “He dyed it back to its natural color. The way he looked when we were growing up.”

“And you didn’t date?” She smiles skeptically.

“No.” A thing that makes you glance away and fluster more than you’re proud of. “We went to prom together, but we never went steady or anything.”

“Oh.” She nods and bites her lip. “Well, let me know about tonight, okay?” She doesn’t want you to be upset if it’s a case of unrequited love and that seems to be what it is.

“I will.” Your nod is enough to make her comfortable taking away, and it’s about an hour later that you catch Max moving across the hall to restock the kitchenette that services this floor of the building.

Max reasons that the staff of the publishing house is lucky. The management provides complimentary snacks and drinks beyond packs of peanuts and coffee. It’s really impressive and it makes him think of what he would have offered his own staff if Black Gold had actually become successful. He regrets how he had to tell Raquel that he couldn’t pay her that last paycheck, but he had managed to send it to her three months later when he had sold his house.

“Hey.” Slipping into the kitchen to pour a fresh cup of coffee, you grin seeing Max so diligent and seemingly satisfied with each thing he gets done. Any job is good that can be satisfying. “How’s your day?”

"I do not know how some people can be so disgusting in public." He shudders and shakes his head. "The men are the worst....but," he grimaces and lowers his voice. "I do not know how some could keep their....sanitary products unwrapped when they are used."

"Women are absolutely gross." You tell him sagely, nodding with a solemn expression to keep from giggling. "If Alistair had a sister you'd see it full force, I promise."

"I am not unused to women's monthly issues." He insists. "I was married to Alistair's mom and would often buy her the things she needed." When he remembered, which was less often than he should have. It was another regret he had, but he couldn't make up for it now.

"Speaking of things we do monthly." Waggling your eyebrows at the lame segue to make him laugh, your smile spreads when you get a confused look out of him. "Some of our coworkers are going out for drinks and stuff after work tonight. You're invited, if you'd like to call Señora Ramos and ask her to stay with Alisitair a little later."

His expression is one of shock and then he frowns. "I don't know if I should." He admits, glancing towards the door of the break room. "I don't want to cause you issues." He knows that you have taken some flack since you had convinced your bosses to give him a chance. Even if you deny it, he's caused you problems. The last thing he wants is for you to suffer more when you've been an incredible friend to him.

"You're not." And no matter how many times you need to repeat it, you always will. Max is never going to get his confidence back as long as he thinks of himself as a burden. And to you? He is anything but. "It might be good to spend time with people out of the office. Make some new friends?"

"I doubt that." He scoffs slightly and bites his lip. It would be nice to spend some time with you outside of the apartments and the office. Socially. Like that one dinner that he had managed to pay for all those years ago. "Do you want me to go?"

"Of course I do." There is no possible way you would want anything else, unless going out would truly make him unhappy somehow. "I love spending time with you." Yup. That's how that sentence goes. Absolutely.

He quietly thinks about it for a long moment before he nods. "I will call Señora Ramos and see if she can watch Alistair for a few more hours." He decides and despite his worries, his posture straightens and he looks excited.

"You deserve a night to be an adult," you remind him, but the way he straightens has you hoping that he's looking forward to it now. "I'll see you at the end of the day, okay? We can walk over to the bar together."

"I will see you then." He nods, knowing he will have to call the babysitter right away before he can really start looking forward to the idea of going out with you and your friends.

******

When the end of the work day comes, you're eager to leave your desk behind. Max hadn't come by your desk to tell you that there was a problem with plans for the evening so you're looking forward to being able to just relax with your friends - both old and new.

Max finishes up his work early, busting his ass to make sure he was done and able to put all of his supplies away and be ready for you at the elevators on time. He has gotten the go ahead from Señora Ramos and was looking forward to buying you a drink.

"Ready to go?" Though you beg your mind not to brim with memories of him picking you up for prom, they're at the top of your mind anyway as the elevator opens and Max strides out into the lobby.

"I am." He had to dry his hands on a paper towel on the way down to the lobby and shove it in his pocket. "Are you?" He asks, lifting his brows and giving you a chance to reconsider. He wouldn't blame you.

"Absolutely." You would take his hand under different circumstances. As it is, your fingers twist around the strap of your purse as you nod toward the doors. "Kim and some of the others just went ahead to grab us tables."

“Oh.” He frowns slightly but nods. “Then we should hurry, no?”

"It's not a race." It does make you chuckle, though, and you nod toward the doors before starting to walk. "We're five minutes behind at the absolute most."

"Where do you normally go to do this 'happy hour'?" Max asks as he guides you out of the building and lets you turn him in the right direction.

"There's a place called Pollard's a couple of blocks away that has really good drink deals and small plate stuff. I'm a big fan of filling myself with margaritas and flatbread on a Friday night." In fact it was something of a ritual, and you're glad to share that with him if he's inclined to it. Alistair is a strict cheese-only kind of kind when it comes to pizza but there is a whole world of more adult flavours to get behind.

"It has been a long time since I have had a margarita." He admits, wondering how you act when you have alcohol. Genji used to make fun of him for being too earnest, too eager to please when he was drunk. He had switched to champagne to make himself seem more sophisticated but actually hated the taste.

"Then you'll have to share with me." The idea lights you up inside and you nudge him while you walk. "They do this margarita tower thing...it sounds impressive but it's two or three drinks each and ridiculously cheap. Best margaritas in the city."

"Then we will have that." Max grins and nods. "And you like the...flatbreads?" He doesn't know what it is, but you seem happy about having one.

"It's just fancy pizza." You grin when he sounds confused and put your nose in the air while you walk. "Fancy metropolitan pizza. I thought you might like a change of pace from all the cheese all the time."

Max groans and rolls his eyes. "Aliastair has to try something else." He pouts slightly. "Even if it's just pepperoni."

"One day we'll have him eating a huge variety. But not quite yet." That pout hasn't changed in twenty years. It still makes you want to wrap him up in your arms and cuddle it away. Which is why you immediately shove your hands in your pockets when you see it. "For now, we'll have some adult treats."

"Something other than Fruit Loops." Max snorts with a grin. "He had me buy two boxes when we went to the bodega last weekend."

"I promise." You hold up your pinky to him after scurrying across a busy street. "No Fruit Loops."

Chuckling as he rings his own pinky around yours, he feels like he's back in high school with you. Promising that he won't become friends with your cousin, as if that could have ever happened. "I want to buy your drinks and food tonight." He tells you.

"You don't have to do that." In fact, you had been planning on just paying the tab for both of you. Considering that you're the one who invited him, you didn't want him to feel pressured or have to count pennies.

"I want to. To say thank you." He shoves his hands into his pockets and concentrates on the steps in front of him. "For helping me find the job, for being a good friend." He lowers his voice slightly. "For not hating me."

"I could never hate you." Sure there had been things you didn't understand. Or times you were hurt when he lavished attention on other people. Like the girls at college that he had told you about during their holiday breaks. But hate? You could never. "I'm glad to have my best friend back."

Friend. He reminds himself that was what he was to you. No more. He frowns slightly as he suddenly thinks about something that makes his heart drop. "You- is there someone you meet at your happy hour meetings?" He asks, slightly jealous of the idea.

"There's a couple of people who always come. Kim, Jennifer, and Gretchen for sure. And usually Carmen. Apparently this time Brad and Dan are coming, too," you tell him, fully misunderstanding the question.

"And which one are you happiest to see?" Max asks, happy mood suddenly souring.

"I mean...usually Kim, I guess?" It's impossible to stop on the pavement in the middle of Midtown, but you tilt your head and your forehead furrows when he looks upset. "Why? Do you...not like some of them?"

"I see." He shakes his head. "No, I do not know them." He reminds you. "I understand now why it never...." He breaks off and shakes his head again, adopting a charming smile. "Never mind, I am eager to meet your friends."

There's a train of thought there that you can't quite follow, but you nod vaguely and keep walking. The two of you are quiet when you pull open the door to Pollard's and Kim waves enthusiastically from a place in the corner where a half dozen small tables have been pushed together for your group. "Looks like we're over there."

Max hangs back slightly, both wary of everyone's reception of him and mulling over the knowledge that you had never been interested in him because you liked women. He had wondered why you never seemed to want to take things farther with him. One of the reasons he had looked so hard for someone in college, to get you off his mind.

After giving hugs to your friends and sitting down beside Kim, you pull out the chair on your other side for Max. The group looks like they've been told to behave themselves - something you'll thank Kim for later - and you look around you only to notice that he hasn't sat down yet. "Max?"

"Hello." Max nods to everyone and bites his lip. "Do you mind if I join you?" It's important that he doesn't insert himself where he's not wanted. Something that he would do too often in his bid for respectability and investments.

"You're more than welcome," Kim insists, waving her hand at the chair on your other side. Everybody had agreed to play nice tonight for your sake. Generally speaking you're just too nice for your own good, and most of your extended work-friend group is curious. "Food here is great. I don't know if our girl told you or not on the way over."

Our girl. Max smiles politely and sits. "She has told me about the margaritas and the flatbread pizzas." He nods and looks around at everyone and wonders what they really think about him being here. "So I believe I will like it."

"Let me guess," Kim hums, one eyebrow raised in amusement. "Margarita tower?" "Of course." It's kind of your go-to anytime you have someone to share it with, and you stretch out with a happy grin at the table. "Max needs a rest from the world of juice boxes and cheese pizza."

"You have a child?" Jennifer asks curiously. "I didn't know that."

"His son's an angel." You offer, smiling at Max, who looks uncomfortable again. "He's my cat's new favorite playmate."

“Alistair is eight.” Max tells them. “The best son anyone could ask for. Sweet and kind, loving.” All traits that Max needed to improve on as an adult, but Alistair’s faith in him, your faith in him, kept him pushing forward.

“Eight is such a good age.” Gretchen goes a little dreamy. Everyone knows her kids are hell on wheels now that they’re teenagers, and she misses when they were little. “Curiosity is at a premium at that age. They’re like little sponges. And so sweet. Oh you’re so lucky.”

"Very lucky." Max can wholeheartedly agree with that. "We have been exploring the museums on the weekends and he asks so many questions that the tour guides don't know." It makes him regret not taking him to more museums while they were in D.C., but he is enjoying the outings with his son and is proud of his curiosity.

“Does he have a library card yet?” She asks, obviously enjoying memories of that age. “My youngest loved the themed story hours until she was eleven or twelve.”

“He doesn’t, but I should get him one.” Max tilts his head in interest. “He loves to read and watch movies.”

“It’s worth it.” Gretchen promises with a smile, and she picks up her menu. “No matter where you are in the city, you can always find a branch.”

“Thank you.” Max replies sincerely. “I will take him to get a card this weekend. We are planning on picnicking in Central Park.” He chuckles. “Which, to Alistair, means pizza at the park.”

“Central Park and the library sounds like a perfect day.” It twists your heart a little - the number of times you’ve thought about what would have happened if you have been brave enough to tell Max how you felt years ago. If Alistair would be your little boy instead of someone else’s. The result has been that you soak up every minute of time that Max’s son is willing to spend with you.

“Would you like to come with us?” Mac is always happy to have you with him. You make the even brighter with your company, just like when you were in high school.

"I'd love to." There's no hesitation for you. No question or even need to consider. Any chance you get to spend with Max, you're going to take it. "You guys have been spending a lot of time together, huh?" Kim asks, amusement twitching in the corner of her mouth. She had thought that you were acting a little defensive earlier because of some unrequited thing, but now she thinks you might just be oblivious to how requited it could be. Not that she would ever get mixed up with a guy like Max Lord, but you seem to have a unique history with the guy.

“She has been very kind to us.” Max is careful to not sully your reputation with telling them how most evenings are spent together and you’ve taught him to make more than mac and cheese with hot dogs for dinner. “New York is very different from D.C. and we are grateful to have someone who knows the area like she does.”

"Rekindling the old friendship, right?" It's a little bit of prodding, sure, but she's also trying to peel away at that Maxwell Lord veneer that they all saw on tv for so long and make him a real person to your other friends.

“I was very lucky to have her as my friend.” Max admits, looking down at his hands shyly. “Believe it or not, I was not well liked when I was younger.” He chuckles at how true that still was, although that was because of his mistakes rather than his misfortune of being poor or an immigrant.

"Neither of us was," you amend, not wanting him to feel singled out by that fact. "If not for Max, I wouldn't have survived senior year. And I definitely wouldn't have gone to college."

“That was a long night.” He remembers, smiling slightly at the memory. “But your admission papers were perfect.” He had sent them off like he had promised and you had been accepted to all of them, with scholarships.

"My mother was furious." A fact which makes you giggle now, so many years later. "Until it became a bragging point. She found out that one of the colleges I applied to was all women, and suddenly I was making a modest, pious choice to educate myself to be a good wife." You roll your eyes heavily, knowing that your years at Sarah Lawrence had radicalized you in ways that your mother could never have dreamed of. "Imagine her disappointment when I went and got a career after college instead of a husband."

“She should be proud of you.” Max shakes his head, still unable to believe what your mother had put you through. “I was. I am. You are in a prestigious position and working on becoming a published author.”

"All thanks to you, it sounds like." Kim is actually smiling, and Gretchen's expression has turned from curious to fond. "You know, this is the most we've ever been able to get her to open up about the old days. Normally she just glosses over any hometown or family questions."

“Oh.” He tosses you a look, hoping that he has not overstepped. “Life was not great for us, but we managed together and we had fun. Prom was possibly the best night of my life until the day Alistair was born.”

"Did you go to prom together?" Gretchen looks like she might melt at that, while Brad and Dan are clearly regretting that there isn't something less girly to talk about.

“Yeah.” Max nods and grins slightly. “It was a good night. We had fun and I still have the pictures we took.”

"You still have those?" Somehow you hadn't expected that, and it makes you light up and soften at the same time. "My mother got rid of my copies...along with pretty much everything else."

“She was always a…difficult woman.” Max sighs. “Genji made sure that she kept them when we divorced but returned all my stuff when we moved to New York.”

"Sounds like your ex-wife and my mother would have gotten along well," you grumble sympathetically when the waitress appears to take your drink orders.

Max defers to you, letting you order first and adding a glass of water in addition to the margarita tower.

Several beers, Gretchen's Long Island Iced Tea, and Kim's white wine selection later, you're all engrossed in looking through food options. The reason you like this place that is it's easy to blend into the background and still get decent service. Yours isn't the only office that empties into this building on a Friday night, and a group of tables nearby is taken up by some folks from a nearby marketing firm that you recognize as fellow regulars. It's just a cordial, relaxed atmosphere that is more than welcome after a long work week.

“They have a lot of options.” Max hums as he looks through the menu. “Have you had anything other than the flatbreads?”

"Not much," you admit with a guilty grin. "Do you want to try something else? I don't mind broadening my horizons a little."

“We could always get the appetizer thing.” He points to a sampler. “And your flatbread. Splitting it and trying more things?”

"If that's what sounds good to you, I'm in." He could suggest almost anything and you would go along with it, so this is barely a compromise. All you want is for him to enjoy himself tonight.

He nods, smiling at you and relaxing slightly. No one has been rude yet and it feels almost like the old days, although he’s still slightly upset he never realized that you were into women.

It's a comfortable evening, with people loosening up after some drinks and food. Brad drags Jennifer away from her seat to dance at one point, even though this is definitely a bar that does not have a dance floor. It's warm and comfortable and there is something extra in the air tonight that is probably just the margaritas talking, but it has you smiling and laughing even more than usual.

As the evening goes on, Max relaxed a little more. Somehow the buttons of his polo pop open and he leans back and ruffles his hand through his hair as the alcohol mellows him out. Sticking close to you and to Kim, he has tried to figure out the dynamic and it’s driving him crazy. He wants to be a good friend and be supportive of you, but he also wishes that he had taken that chance so many years ago and kissed you when it seemed like the right moment for it.

You're just too good to be true...can't take my eyes off of you...you'd be like heaven to touch, I wanna hold you so much... Frankie Valli croons through the speakers in the bar, making your head jump up and your eyes snap over to Max. Like the memory of senior prom wasn't enough, that song throws you back in time harder than a slingshot.

******

Max tries to suppress his nerves, praying his hands aren’t sweaty as he guides you through the song. It’s romantic and one that he’s heard before, making him think of you. At long last love has arrived….And I thank God I'm alive “Are you having a good time?” He asks, desperately hopeful that you don’t hate the night with him.

"Of course I am." You're here with him, there's nothing realistic that you could think of to make it better. Realistic being the key. Those little daydreams you've had about going out to Lover's Lane with him or cuddling up under the stars? Those are just fantasies. "A--are you?"

“I am.” He nods and smiles at you. “Your dress is the prettiest one here.” You had taken his breath away and he was grateful that the corsage matched and his suit complimented it.

"Do you think so?" The pattern is a little old fashioned probably, but you love it. the flowers that you had carefully embroidered for embellishment and the few crystals that you managed to get your hands on had made you hopeful that he would like it, but your mother had scoffed that boys don't care what dress you wear. After that, even though you had finished the dress, you had been a little less giddy about it.

“It is beautiful. I cannot believe that you made it yourself.” He smiles and reaches up from your back to rub the edge of your shoulder strap. “If you wanted to, you could be a very accomplished seamstress.”

"Maybe I'll just make my own dresses." You beam at him, unable to contain how hard you're smiling at such a compliment. "Dinner dresses to go out in. Or even my wedding dress one day."

“It would be breathtaking.” His heart pounds in his chest thinking about your wedding day. Painfully wishing that he was the lucky man who got to meet you in front of the priest.

"Not that...that I think that will happen any time soon." Mostly because you can't picture the day at all with anyone but him, and he doesn't seem to like you that way. Even all through the nice dinner he took you to before the dance tonight, he hadn't tried to hold your hand or anything. Which is okay. It's not like you don't know that boys don't like you. But you're trying not to lose hope before the night is over.

“No, you must get through college first.” Max insists seriously. “It is important that you establish your dreams first.” Max decides that he will become wealthy before he asks you out, not wishing for you to pity him. He had been so nervous tonight he couldn’t form the words to ask you to the movies, even though he wanted to.

"I've been waiting for the right time to tell you." Deciding that this is it - this moment, this dance, this song, you are absolutely beaming at him. "I spoke with the financial department at Sarah Lawrence yesterday. They're actually going to give me enough scholarships and grants that I can manage it."

“What?” Max gasps, lighting up. “That’s great.” He lunges forward to hug you tightly, excited that you were getting to have your dream despite your mother trying to sabotage you.

“It’s all thanks to you.” You hug him back tightly, nearly giggling with excitement. “I never could have gotten it all done alone.”

"You could have." He protests, but he beams at your praise. "We will both have our college degrees in no time and I will know a famous publisher and you will know a powerful businessman."

Know. You will know each other. Nothing more. You try so hard not to let your smile dim and end up clinging to him a little harder. If you weren't so terrified of losing him altogether then you wouldn't care what the other girls said. You could live with being considered 'fast' for kissing him first if you were just brave enough.

You seem so happy by the prospect, he bites his lip and wonders if he imagines that you sometimes look at him like you want to kiss him. Perhaps it is just his own wants projecting onto you, he has a habit of doing that, but he cannot help it with you. If he had one person in the world to save, it would be you. Whispering your name, he gathers the shreds of his courage and presses slightly closer to you.

For a second you can't tell if it's your imagination or if the world really has stopped moving around you. Your vision has narrowed down to just him and he's filled your other senses -- but when does he not? When do you ever think of anyone in the whole world before Max? Sometimes you could swear he thinks of you as more than just a friend, and right now his hands grasping you a little tighter has your heart jumping directly into your throat as it starts to beat wildly out of control.

Staring into your eyes, Max wets his lips, finding them suddenly dry and chapped. He doesn't want your (hopefully) first kiss to be dry. He swallows again and decides to go for it. His fingers flex on your hip and his eyes drop down to your lips as he leans in more. "Ladies and gentleman! It is time to crown our prom King and Queen!"

The sheer volume of the announcement has you both jumping out of your skins, startling apart from each other like a cartoon and breaking the moment. You could have sworn that he was inching closer to you. He looked like he was going to kiss you. And now you've completely lost it.

Max's heart sinks down to his toes and he gives you a small smile before the two of you turn towards the stage. Cursing himself for not being fast enough, the moment is gone and with it, his courage.

******

“Did you have fun tonight?” Walking from the subway stop to your apartment building, you have your hands once again shoved into your pockets in that long-established custom of keeping yourself from reaching for him. A few margaritas each has you feeling loose and relaxed, but it isn’t like you’re not in control of yourself.

"It was really fun." Max sounds bewildered, as if he was surprised that having drinks with your co-workers, his co-workers could be a pleasant time. "I see why you like her." He still feels bad that he hadn't noticed it before, but he's trying to be there for you.

"Bars are girls?" You ask him, wondering why he gave a building a pronoun. Maybe it's one of those weird things like how cars and ships are female somehow.

"Nooooooo." He manages to giggle slightly, fully feeling the effects of the alcohol now. "Not the bar." He snorts and nearly trips over a piece of the sidewalk that has lifted up and he stumbles forward before straightening and looking down in bewilderment. "Kim."

"Did you not like her before tonight?" If he had disliked her you hadn't noticed, and that makes you feel a bit silly. But the silly might also be the couple of margaritas you had.

"No, I like her." He shakes his head, not willing to let you think he doesn't like your crush. "I think that she's nice. I see why you like her." He stresses. "I'm jealous."

"Why are you jealous?" That makes you frown very deeply, and your nose wrinkles. "She's just my friend." Not your best friend, or anything more -- like you've always considered him to be.

"I can't help it." Max hangs his head and his shoulders round slightly. "I will get past it. Support you."

"Stop." At the front door of your walk up, you swing around in front of him and put both hands on his shoulders, forcing him to stand a little bit taller and actually look at you. "What are you talking about? Support me how?"

"By being happy for you." He frowns and motions towards you like it should be obvious.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Your head drops and shakes animatedly, a pout turning down the points of your lips. "I'm fine, I guess? But I'm not...happy happy."

"Because you have not told her." Max nods, understanding and reaches out and takes your hand. "You must, otherwise you will live with regret. Like I do."

He isn't making any sense, but his large hand covering yours is warm and making you fuzzier than even the tequila had. "I should tell Kim that she's my friend?" You ask, trying to understand him. "She knows that already."

"No." Max winces and shakes his head. "You should tell her that...." he closes his eyes, in pain for the lost chance, or maybe the chance that never was. His unrequited heart aching. "That you love her." He whispers.

The swirling confusion that started at your toes and went all the way up to fogging your brain stops dead, and all of a sudden you're standing up - stone sober - in front of Max with a clarity that makes you feel more foolish than you ever have in your life. More foolish than the first time you ever met a lesbian, way back in college. "But..." you look at him with resignation in you somewhere. "I don't. I mean she's my friend and I love her platonically but...did you think I was gay this whole time?"

"You shouldn't have to hide it." Max swallows and opens his eyes. "I figured it out, it- it hurts because I know that my feelings would never be returned, and I wondered if I imagined the times you looked like you wished- it doesn't matter. All that matters is that I am your friend and I will be here for you. Be your friend, no matter if I am jealous."

If the last revelation hadn't instantly sobered you, this one certainly would. You're practically gawking at him in the middle of the sidewalk as people move around you in all directions. "What feelings?" You insist - demand - feeling your heart strangle in your chest so tightly it could rip into pieces.

His shoulders round again and he sends you a look that is a mixture of humiliation, apology and heartache. "Please don't- I had tried so hard to move on from you in college, to pretend that it didn't matter that you would never date poor Max." He chokes out. "You- you have been exactly like you were in high school, of course my infatuation with you came back."

"Is this some kind of joke?" You never thought that Max would be cruel enough to pull a practical joke this personal on you, but your hands retract and you cross them over your chest like a very poor set of armor. "If it is, it's mean, and I never thought you were mean. But pretending you had a crush on me when I've spent my entire life in love with you is just cruel."

Max frowns, unsure of what you mean when he has just told you his feelings, but he swallows harshly. "I- I didn't- I'm sorry." He gulps, having completely missed your confession of love. "I know you don't - it's - I can't help it. You have always been the girl I wish I kissed that night at prom." He murmurs quietly, shoulders slumping even more and he turns to walk away, sure that you want nothing to do with him now.

It's too much to process and yet your mind gets through it at lightning speed. Fast enough with your reflexes to throw yourself through the other door of your apartment building and end up in front of him, your body is reacting a lot faster than you can even tell it to. He's barely inside the lobby before you're in front of him, and both of your hands hit his chest at the exact same time. Grasping the collar of his shirt to bring him down to you, this is the moment of boldness that all missed opportunities has been building to. If you miss this, you miss everything. And unlike prom, there is no dj to interrupt you this time when you pull him down to you and press your lips to his.

The alcohol and the melancholy fade instantly and his eyes widen, his groan of surprise loud against your lips but he doesn't pull away. He can't. Not when he has you pressed up against him and kissing him. His arms snake around your body and he pulls you close, deepening the kiss and feeling you melt against him.

It seems completely impossible for this to be happening, but he has deepened the kiss instead of pushing you away, letting you slide your tongue along the seam of his lips and inviting you inside the map the contours of his mouth the way you've dreamt of ten thousand times. Your hands clutch each other inelegantly, holding on for dear life, but you don't care how awkward it looks from the outside - you've been waiting for this moment for more than twenty years.

All he can think of is you. How you sound, how you taste. So much better than his imagination twenty years ago and even just today. Unable to believe that this is real as he fulfills a fantasy he never thought he would get to have.

In true city-life fashion, what breaks you apart is not a lack of enthusiasm, but the grumbling of a loud neighbor who shouts, "Get a room!" As he storms out the front door with his arms thrown up in disgust, as though two people kissing is the most offensive thing he has seen in his entire life.

Max flushes and looks back at you, wondering how you feel about the kiss that was just shared and his heart is pounding in his chest. “I- what was that?” He asks, unable to stop the goofy grin from spreading across his face.

"It's what I wish I had done in high school," you admit, the adrenaline making your heart beat wildly in your ears as you seem to vibrate in place. "What I wish I had done every single day. I was scared my whole life, Max. But then I finally said it and you didn't hear me and that scared me more than anything else in the world. That I could have told you and you still didn't know."

“You- you like me?” He asks dumbly, shaking his head and points to himself. “Me?”

"Yes, you." But since Max has had as terrible a time believing in his own self-worth as you have, there is no bite to your insistence. "Since well before senior year, if I'm honest. But courage isn't my strong suit."

“I- you don’t like Kim?” He frowns in confusion and closes his eyes. “Me. You like me. You’ve liked me.” He repeats softly. “Why?”

"Because...even though we were different we had important things in common. We had a whole town and our own families telling us to give up on our dreams and we worked our way up from the dirt. Both of us. You're...you're so smart, Max. And so much sweeter than you have ever given yourself credit for. And unbearably handsome, even when we were teenagers and everyone was some kind of gawky and awkward. You just...you made me want to be a better, stronger person." You shrug slightly, suddenly feeling self-conscious all over again, and shove your hands back in your pockets. "I always thought if I learned enough about the world and showed you I could be as smart as you that you might...you might think I could be more than just your friend. But when you came home from college you would always tell me about other girls and I just...I figured that if I had ever had a chance, I lost it on prom night."

“I didn’t think I had a chance.” Max admits quietly. “Believe me, I wanted you. You were just always way too good for me.” He shrugs his shoulders and shoves his own hands in his pockets. “I was lying about the girls. No one was talking to me. Not until Genji. I was trying to impress you, but you just seemed to be okay with it, so I thought you were just my friend.”

“I just wanted you to be happy,” you murmur, wishing you had been better at seeing the signs or braver about asserting your own desire. “Even if it was with someone else…even if it broke my heart.”

“I wish I had told you how I felt. Alistair could have been ours together. But I would not have wanted you to leave me like Genji.” Max murmurs.

“I wouldn’t have left.” He may not believe you, but it’s true. Some people would probably call you blind with devotion. Maybe it is? Who knows. “When you were up there…Doing your broadcast?” The breath you let out is shaky at best. “I just kept wishing you could hear me. That that might make a difference to you somehow…I guess it didn’t work.”

Max frowns slightly and tilts his head. “What was I supposed to hear? There was one voice in my head that kept telling me to be happy.”

“To remember your happiness?” You look up at him with such hope that it is almost too much, but you can’t help it. “Maybe it was conceited of me. Or desperate. I just wanted you to remember that people love you as you are.”

“To remember my happiness.” Max nods. The influx of emotions and wishes were much more than he had anticipated and it seemed to jumble together at one point but that voice stood out. “That is...something I am working on.” He admits quietly.

"If that isn't me...or you don't want to..." Looking around reminds you that you are very much in public still and you press your lips together nervously. "Maybe we should talk about this upstairs?"

“Upstairs. Yes, upstairs.” He glances around and flushes slightly. “We should talk upstairs. And I can let Señora go home. Alistair should be asleep.”

When you make it up to his apartment, Señora Ramos is watching a movie on tv without a care in the world. Alistair apparently tired himself out reading an hour ago and all has been quiet since.

“So-“ as soon as the door closes behind Señora Ramos, Max is nervous and claps his hands together. Feeling vulnerable now that you know everything. “Do you….want….” He looks around. “A drink! Do you want a drink?”

“Maybe just water.” After the amount you both had earlier, and what you have to talk about, you want a chance to clear your head.

“Water is good.” He agrees, bobbling his head and rushing towards the small, galley style kitchen that he was lucky to have. Some apartments didn’t even have a kitchen.

“Max…” Leaning against the counter, you take down two glasses and slide them over to him. “You don’t have anything to be nervous about.”

“Sure I do.” Max snorts, opening the freezer to grab the ice tray. “It’s not like you tell the girl you’ve had a crush on since you were twelve that you thought she was a lesbian.”

“I’m still wondering why you thought that.” Mostly out of curiosity, of course. Though the news that he’s liked you as long as you’ve liked him is both satisfying and a little bittersweet. You could have had something so long ago if just one of you had been brave.

“You said that Kim is the person that you most enjoyed, you never talk about any men, now or back in school.” He shrugs, mildly embarrassed. “I know that people have been….more open….than they were back when we were close. Maybe…I don’t know, maybe I thought it made sense.”

“I never talked about boys I liked to you because I’ve always liked you.” It isn’t exactly an easy thing to admit to him, but the cat is very much out of the bag at this point. “Kim has been my closest friend for a long time. I absolutely adore her. But my love for her isn’t romantic. She’s like the sister I never had.”

"I am foolish." Max hangs his head and sighs. "I am sorry." He murmurs quietly.

“Please don’t be.” Stepping cautiously closer to him in his little kitchen, you take the glass of water he hands you and have a sip. “If you hadn’t thought so, you might not have said anything. And then we never would have come clean.”

He hadn't looked at it that way and he bites his lip as he watches you. "What do you want?" He asks softly, still irrationally fearful of rejection, but also hopeful.

It’s a vague question, but the context is so specific. Specific enough that you are shocked he feels the need to ask, but grateful that he isn’t simply assuming. “Ideally?” You ask, and wait for him to nod shyly. “I want what I’ve always wanted. To be with you. But I understand if that’s too much to ask.”

"I- you know that people hate me, no?" He asks, scrunching up his brows. "Mi amor, it would be hell to be with me. Are you sure that is what you want?"

It isn’t a trick question, but you put down your water after another sip and hoist yourself up to sitting on the edge of the counter. “I want you to respect me. To love me and treat me well, and listen to my day regardless of whether it was good or bad. I want you to trust me and talk to me and confide in me and be silly with me. I don’t give a damn what anybody else thinks of you. Be a good partner to me and I’ll be one to you, and that’s all that matters.”

"I do respect you." He promises. "I wasn't a good partner, not to Genji, but I want to be one. I will be one for you." He knows that he has made mistakes, but he feels like he won't make them again. His ideas for success have changed and as long as he can take care of his son and provide him with a happy, safe childhood, he will consider himself blessed.

"Then that's all I need to know." The shy smile on your lips tips up the corners of your mouth and you shrug guiltily. "Almost all." You admit when he gives you an incredulous look. "I also kinda want to know if you meant it when you called me amor a second ago..."

His eyes widen when he realizes his slip of the tongue and his tan complexion darkens further as he flushes in embarrassment. He hadn't meant to say it, but it was something that he thought often. "Yes." He admits quietly, but his shoulders don't round. "I did."

“Then that’s all I need to know.” You know your cheeks are burning but you truly don’t care. This is more than half a lifetime of pining coming to a head right now and you are so unbelievably touched that you aren’t the only one that has held onto the flame this long. It makes it special in a very unconventional way - as if you were being rewarded somehow.

He doesn't quite understand what you might be thinking but he nods. "Yes." He murmurs, wondering what he could say right now that would be interesting and flirty.

“So…” You shift slightly on the counter and tilt your head at him. “Are you sure you want to be with me, then?”

Max has had to bluff his way through many meetings, promising things that he couldn’t give the men who wanted to invest with him, or were thinking of investing with him. He doesn’t use that smarmy, painted on charm to reassure you. This time, it’s his own thin courage that has him stepping closer and reaching out to hold onto your waist as he steps closer again. “Yes.” His voice breaks softly from how low it dips. His lips curving up slightly. “Very sure.”

"Better late than never, right?" The warmth of his hands seeps through your clothes, waking up every inch of your skin and making you sit up a little straighter as he comes closer. That little smile of his is contagious.

“Only a lifetime of regret and enough stories to fill a book.” Max snorts.

"Some things are good enough to slog through all the hell for," you remind him softly. "It gave you Alistair."

“It brought me back to you. As well.” He reminds you, smiling at the thought. “But I want to do something else right now.”

"Oh you do, do you?" There is a distinctly boyish - maybe even mischievous - expression on his face that you've never seen before and it works for him. "What would that be?"

“I want to kiss you.” He admits, leaning in and his eyes flicker to yours. “Can I kiss you?” You had kissed him before, so he wants to do this.

It's beyond you to not be excited about it, even more than a little giddy as you nod and let your legs naturally slide apart to make a place for him to stand between them at the counter. "As much as you want."

He steps forward again, this time fitting himself in the space you allocated for him and leans in more, pressing the evidence of his desire against your belly as he cups your cheek and drops his lips onto yours.

The first press is soft but sure, and you almost startle feeling him press so obviously against you, but it is delicious. Instead of drawing away or jumping back or politely pretending not to notice, you lean in that much more surely and trap his hard on between both of your bodies. You may not have soaked through your panties just yet, but the heat rolling off of you is unmistakable. as unmistakable as your enthusiasm for kissing him again.

Groaning, he’s happy you don’t push him away. Instead you’re pulling him closer and his arms are wrapping around you to deepen the kiss.

Your knees bracket his hips, holding him tight against you and letting yourselves get lost in the moment. It's slower this time, deepening less frantically but no less ardently. Twenty years of wanting from both of you is being poured into this moment and you'll be damned if you're going to rush it.

He doesn’t try to push this beyond a kiss, although he aches to. He has no idea how long he leans into you, making out with you as if you are teenagers again.

No one could accuse either of you of a lack of enthusiasm. If you had not already been sitting on this counter you might have swept everything off of it just to get him to sit you here, enjoying what easy access you have to all of the most important parts of him. Access that - despite the fact that you have absolutely soaked through your panties and probably your pants as well - you don't know if you should be taking. Pulling yourself back from the edge of control and catching your breath is tricky, but you focus your eyes on him and feel your heart skip that all-important beat. "Max..." As much as you want to whine, your voice pitches down to be soft and rasping. "Is it too fast to ask if I can touch you?"

He’s conflicted. Not because he thinks it’s too fast, but he’s still coming to terms with the idea you want him. “You-“ he clears his throat when his voice breaks again. “You can do whatever you want to me.” He answers honestly.

"Then we should not stay in this kitchen." The grin you flash him is mischievous but oh so promising, and your hands slide up his shoulders to let your fingers just touch the trim edge of his hair. "Take me to bed, Max."

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Maxwell Lord #Max Lord #Maxwell Lord x you #Maxwell Lord x reader #Maxwell Lord x female reader #Maxwell Lord x f!reader #WW84 #Wonder Woman 1984 #The One That Got Away #high school crush #friends to lovers

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clownery-and-fuckery · 4 months

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Guess what!!!!!! I'm sick!!!!!!!!!!! So I'm giving you guys sick headcannons!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

- Crosshair is a whiny cunt. I'm sorry but he is, he never stops complaining and he makes it everyone's problem

- Wrecker is also whiny, but its okay because he hardly gets sick so when he goes down he GOES DOWN.

- ^^ and he's like a superspreader so he gives it to everyone

- Hunter avoids it 70% of the time but when he does get sick he gets ear infections, it's really sad and he has a really bad sick voice

- Echo doesn't get sick. Ever. No one had ever seen him sick before ever- not even when he was with the domino's. Dude is just immune????

- Tech gets sick. He says he doesn't and then he does and then he CRASHES.

- ^^ he sleeps a lot when he's sick

- Echo tried to quarantine them when they were sick on a long mission, and instead of it actually working, the rest of them dropped like flies and Echo had to get them to a medi centre.

- ^^ crosshair gave it to them btw

- omega doesn't get sick either, mostly because she, like echo, is somehow immune??? Sometimes she does though, at the beginning of the series

- then she ate dirt and everything was fine

- wrecker tried eating dirt with Omega, didn't work out too well for him

- Hunter has a dad sneeze

- Tech can't regulate his temperature on a good day, so he's very prone to things like hypothermia/fevers because he simply doesn't realise he's cold/hot

- Cuddle piles happen the most when they're all sick

- Wrecker always demands it saying he "won't get them sick!!!!" But then he does :( and he feels bad

- one time Hunter contracted this HORRIBLE chicken-pox like virus and gave it to EVERYONE- even Echo got it.

- ^^ somehow, Tech didn't???? Idk he's a carrier ig

- Omega drinks contaminated water like its nothing

- echo is the batch nurse most of the time

- ^^ hes really bad at it btw

- one time when Tech was sick Phee was around and he was like

"noo stop you're so gross stop kissing me I'm gonna get you sICK >:(("

- and Phee was like

"nu uh c'mere pretty boy let me kiss your sick away ;))"

- Phee got sick. They shared a bed for a few days ;0

- Hunter didn't approve

- Hunter gets strangely aggressive when he's sick. It's strange because he tends to latch onto one person and hate everyone else

- ^^ most of the time after Crosshair got back, it was him- but for a while it was Wrecker, it rotates

- Crosshair bites when he's sick

- Tech picked up the habit of copying Crosshair when he was sick, only when Tech does get sick, he's too sleepy to actually bite so he bumps his head against whoever's holding him, its the same thing

- wrecker always strips down when he's sick. Echo wasn't expecting it, and he screamed the first time he saw it

- wrecker runs EXTREMELY hot when he's sick, it leads to a lot of bad times but good for Crosshair and Hunter, who are cold as ice when they're ill, so they all snuggle up

- ^^ Tech just flops on top of them, it doesn't matter where he lands

- Phee thinks its VERY CUTE when Tech is poorly mostly because he's like ">:( no way not sick nu uh" but she's lovingly taking over Echo's job at nurse

- ^^ she's not much better at it

- Hunter carries Tech and Cross over his shoulders when they're sick- this is because they both have a collective braincell that tells them it's time to MOVE and be ACTIVE when their bones are like "noo :( eepie"

- Wrecker slurs his words when he's sick :[ he's also very mushy and is an extra worrier when his brothers are sick :((

- kinda a sad one, but Crosshair tends to not eat when he's sick because he's scared of throwing up. He's also scared of watching others throw up. And it's all Wrecker does when he's sick

- it's the worst because sometimes when Tech gets sick, Hunter and Echo have to make him throw up to get whatever it is he caught out of him

- ^^ tech eats things btw. Things he shouldn't eat. He likes to lick the science.

Anyways I love them.

#ill add more later #probably #i HATE being sick #sw the bad batch #tbb tech #phee genoa #tbb crosshair #tbb wrecker #tbb hunter #tbb echo #had to add some techphee #theyre my beloveds #you understand #tbb omega

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skellymom · 2 months

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Sad Dad of the Batch

Crediting Josh Carson/Jandy Harper

Spotted this jem on Pinterest and giving full credit to the image!

Look at him. This was S2 Finale.

The waist...the face...OH THE ANGST!

#the bad batch #star wars #tbb #bad batch #clone force 99 #tbb hunter #the bad batch hunter #the bad batch sergeant hunter #the bad batch season two finale

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andreafmn · 1 year

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Speak - Chapter 5

Word Count: 3.2K

Story Description: Bella Swan was a disaster when Edward had left. Deciding she needed a little help, Charlie Swan receives with open arms his younger daughter (Y/N) Swan. She helps Bella during her depression and becomes inseparable from her long-lost friend Jacob. What she didn’t expect was falling for a hotheaded short-tempered silver wolf.

Chapter: 5/?

A/N: The long-awaited update is here!!!!!

This chapter is dedicated to @madcatlady for the hilarious ask. It honestly made me laugh 😂😂 I really wanted to make this more of an enemies to lovers (I still can) but soft Paul makes me too happy. Also, the ending for this was gonna be different but I made it into the next chapter If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories. You can request at any time any story or one-shot you desire. Hope you enjoy, and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

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Chapter 5

(Y/N) had gone to bed with anger flowing through her veins. It made her burn up with rage, slowly bubbling up to the surface.

Bella had always been unconsciously selfish in her sister’s opinion. At least, she hoped it was unconscious. To (Y/N), her sister always found a way to make every situation about herself, and everyone allowed it. Her heartbreak had taken over her father’s life, threatened to take over their mother’s, and was slowly snaking its hands around hers. But Bella would not become the center of her life, she could not.

But the next morning, (Y/N)’s anger had seemingly dissipated. Even if Bella believed the world revolved around her, (Y/N) would not let hers do so. At the end of the day, it was Christmas – a day of happiness and forgiveness. She would enjoy it with or without her sister.

The smell of slightly burnt coffee filled her nostrils before she had opened her eyes and she knew her father was already up. Her excitement for the day was again replenished and she readied herself for a long afternoon. It was her first holiday back in the city of Forks, and the first Christmas she’d have in the town. Nothing would stand in the way of a good day.

“Morning, dad,” (Y/N) smiled at the flustered man. He had taken a sip of the scalding coffee. Not only did he burn his tongue, but he had to taste the awful batch. “Merry Christmas.”

“Oh, merry Christmas, honey. I really am a menace in the kitchen.”

“Thankfully not on the grill,” she chuckled. “Why don’t you sit while I make a new batch and a light breakfast?”

“I guess I’m still not used to having you girls here,” he sighed. “Normally I’d just go down to the diner and get some food there. And now that Bella’s like… like that, I’ve had to take care of the food again.”

“Well, I’m here now. So don’t worry about that,” (Y/N) smiled. “We’ll just take it one day at a time and hope for the best. It’s the only thing we can do.”

“Then we should get ready soon to go over to Billy’s house,” Charlie responded, resigned. “Were you able to at least convince Bella to come?”

“No. She’s as stubborn as ever.”

“I really hoped she’d want to come. You both always enjoyed Christmas time.”

(Y/N) shrugged from the stove, the pan she shook scraping slightly the iron grates. She had hoped that, at least for this holiday, Bella would put her family first. Alas, her teenage angst took over and she was once more glued onto the swivel desk chair, overlooking the backyard. All she wanted was for her family to be together during such a special holiday – especially one that promoted togetherness. But all Bella could do or think of was the idiotic boy that had broken her heart.

"Whatever," (Y/N) spoke abruptly. “She’s the one that’s missing out. If she wants to stay at home and wallow in self-pity, so be it. We cannot let her consume every part of our lives.”

“(Y/N), she’s your sister,” Charlie said. “She’s sad and we can’t just leave her behind.”

“It’s not even for a whole day, dad. She’ll survive a couple of hours of staring out of that window,” she whined. “It’s your day off. It’s Christmas. We’re not gonna spend today trapped in the house because Bella has a bad case of the blues.”

“(Y/N)…”

“Dad,” (Y/N) said sternly. “We are gonna go to Uncle Billy’s house. We are going to celebrate Christmas. Then, we will come back home and find Bella in the same spot. But we deserve — you deserve — to put her in the back of our minds for a couple of hours and enjoy ourselves. And that’s an order, sheriff.”

“Alright, you win, (Y/N),” Charlie chuckled slightly. “And thanks again for breakfast. I promise one day I’ll get the hang of it.”

“There won’t be any need whilst I’m here, dad.”

After a small round of chitchat and the background noise of cutlery hitting the ceramic plates, the two of them left for their respective rooms to get ready for the day. Before going back downstairs, (Y/N) popped into Bella’s room where she was not surprised to see her sister sat staring out her window.

Her sister looked pitiful. Chair bound and frail. Heartbreak in the simplest definition. There was not a single trace of the girl she had grown up with. There was a Bella before Edward and the one that was left barely counted as a person.

(Y/N) entered the room, a wrapped present in her hands. She sauntered towed her sister, unsure of what Bella’s reaction — or lack thereof— would be.

“Hey, Bells,” she spoke softly, unsure of where they stood after the conversation they had the night before. “I got you this cause, after all, it is Christmas. I know you don’t want to come with us, but I still wanted to get you something. You can open it, or not. It’s really up to you. But, merry Christmas, sis.”

Silence seemed to be the prevailing answer.

“So, is she finally gonna come?” Charlie asked as (Y/N) exited Bella’s room. “Did she have a change of heart?”

“Nope,” she answered – she wasn’t a miracle worker. “But that doesn’t mean we’re not gonna have a good time. Now, let’s go.”

As they drove down the streets to the reservation, Charlie and (Y/N) sang along badly to Christmas tunes. A white scenery blurred past them as they headed through the snow-covered streets of Forks, putting the older Swan daughter to the back of their mind. The air felt lighter, a weight lifted off their shoulders. They both felt like they could breathe, even if just for a little bit.

The red barn-like house came into view before they had realized that Forks was far behind them. As the truck rolled to a stop, Billy and Jake exited the house to greet their guests. A playful smile played on Jacob’s face when he saw his new girlfriend. A smile that Charlie Swan did not like.

“Now, (Y/N), I know that you two are now sort of together. But I don’t wanna see all that lovey-dovey stuff between you.”

“Dad,” she chuckled.

“No, seriously, (Y/N). I don’t wanna see it.”

“So, it’s okay as long as you don’t see it? Got it.”

“Don’t push it, kid.”

“Alright, dad. I’ll keep it low-key for you.”

With another giggle, (Y/N) stepped out of the cruiser, her hands packed with a bag filled with presents and a six-pack of beer. And from the back of the car, Charlie pulled the trays of food they had prepared.

“Here, let me help,” Jake told Charlie, grabbing hold of two of the four trays he was carrying.

Charlie tried his best to hide his feelings of slight anger toward the boy. He’d known him since he was a baby but seeing him get so close to his daughter unnerved him. Still, he answered, “Yeah, thanks, Jake.”

“Hey, Jake,” (Y/N) smiled, kissing Jake’s cheek.

“Hey, (Y/N).”

“Alright you two, keep it moving,” Charlie grumbled. “And, again, I don’t wanna see any funny stuff between you.”

He walked in front of them, saying hi to Billy as he walked into the house to put the trays down. Everyone could notice the annoyance on his face. As much as he loved Jake, it was one thing for him to be his best friend’s son; it was another for him to date his youngest daughter.

“How’ve you been, Billy?” (Y/N) asked as she made her way into the house and the man rolled inside.

“Very good, (Y/N),” he smiled. “So, Jake and you, when did that happen?”

She chuckled in response. “It started at the bonfire, but it’s been a long time coming. Wouldn’t you say?”

“Well, between you and me, you’ve always been my favorite of Charlie’s youngest daughters.”

“It’d be weird if I wasn’t.”

“I truly hope this union is of benefit to the both of you,” Billy said, placing a comforting hand on her forearm. “If it is meant to be, I’m sure your father will come around sooner or later.”

“Waiting for sooner rather than later,” she sighed. “It’s kind of hard to see where this is going when dad is breathing down our necks every time we’re in the same room.”

“He means well,” he chuckled. “Charlie’s very new to this whole parenting teenagers thing. It’s hard to see your kids grow up so quickly. But I’ll tell you what, I’ll keep him by the barbecue as much as I can so you two can have some alone time.”

“Thanks, uncle Billy.”

In her happiness, (Y/N) missed Billy’s knowing gaze. He knew something neither of them did. Deep down, he knew the pair would not last long – there were other forces in play. But if this is what they wanted, for now, he would never interfere. Young love was hard to come by if that’s what this was.

They entered the kitchen and laughed as they witnessed Jacob’s pleading face. Charlie had not let down his menacing stare as he prepped the meat they would cook. Though his hands worked on the food, his eyes glared at the boy relentlessly.

“Hey, Charlie, got the grill up and running already,” Billy announced. “Why don’t we put this thing to cook already?”

“But I’m not done yet.”

“I think you are,” he chuckled. “Come on, let’s go.”

Charlie grumbled as he left through the backdoor with Billy and back into the snow, leaving the two teenagers on their own. With a smile of mischief, Jake and (Y/N) crossed the small kitchen and were finally able to engage in a hello kiss.

“Hey,” she whispered as they parted from each other.

“Hey, back,” Jacob chuckled. “Your dad was close to shooting me there.”

“Well, you did kiss his youngest daughter in front of him,” (Y/N) teased, wrapping her arms around his neck. “And you’re the first boyfriend I’ve introduced to him. Look how well that turned out for Bella.”

“But you’re not Bella,” he said. “And I’m not Edward.”

“That is very correct,” she laughed before pecking his lips. “You’re way better.”

“You could say that again,” Jake grinned. “Also, how many boyfriends didn’t make the cut?”

“Why? Are you jealous, Jake?”

“Just want to know what I’m up against.”

“Believe me, none of them match up to you.”

Suddenly, the sound of a screen door startled them apart. Charlie walked in, the angry scowl still on his face. He muttered under his breath as he opened the drawers in the kitchen, finally finding tongs. And as he left once more, he shot them another glare.

The pair couldn’t help but burst out in laughter as they watched Charlie’s figure disappear through the door. They understood where the father was coming from. Opening himself to having another daughter get her heart broken was too much for a technically “new” father.

But as much as they understood him, it didn’t mean they would try too hard to make him comfortable. They were young, a little reckless, and very excited to be in a relationship – at least (Y/N) was.

As the adults chatted outside, cooking the meat and drinking beers, Jake and (Y/N) gravitated toward the couch, cuddling on the seat. The fireplace was on and the radio was set on a jazz station, playing a song neither of them knew.

“So,” (Y/N) spoke up, looking at Jacob from his chest. “I know we said we wouldn’t do gifts, but I got you something.”

“(Y/N), you promised,” he chuckled. “Although, I will admit I also got you a little something as well. You go first.”

(Y/N) stood up and went to get the wrapped gift she had placed behind the tree. She was excited. It was their first Christmas together ever, and more importantly, their first as a couple. She had dreamed of this moment since they were kids.

Jake followed behind, grabbing the bag he had packed his gift into. He was sure they had both gotten each other small things. They hadn’t been together for that long and there wasn’t anything riding in the presents.

“So, I know you’ve been saying for a while that you needed these for a while, and they were very hard to get.”

Jacob’s eyes were wide in surprise as he unwrapped the box in his hands. (Y/N) had gotten him a pair of Timberland boots with a steel toe. He had dropped one too many tools onto his foot whilst working on cars and he was in desperate need of these shoes.

“Wow, (Y/N)! This must have put a dent in your wallet.”

“It’s worth it,” she smiled into the hug he gave her.

“Well, here’s yours,” he tried to pull a smile, but he knew it wouldn’t even compare. “It’s not as good, but I didn’t have much time.”

“That’s okay,” (Y/N) responded. She knew whatever he had gotten her would be meaningful and caring, a testament to who he was. And she was very confident in it until she finally saw it. “A… candle.”

“It’s got a nice smell,” Jacob chuckled awkwardly. “I thought you’d like the smell… I know. It sucks.”

“No. It’s, um, it’s nice.” (Y/N) was trying to hide her disappointment. She’d seen this type of candle. They sold them at the gas stations in the area as passersby souvenirs. “I’ll put it by my bed and I’ll think about you every time I light it. I love it. Thanks.”

“And I will basically live in these boots,” he boasted. “I love them.”

“I’m glad.”

It was hard for (Y/N) to keep her dismay at bay. She smiled, talked, and laughed through dinner, but it was hard. Jacob could have gotten the candle that morning – zero thought and preparation had gone into the gift. She would have preferred he stuck to nothing. Even that would have been better since he would have kept the promise.

Instead, she was left with a gas station candle that smelled like apples that had been stuffed into a red bag. She was allergic to apples. They made her throat itch and her eyes swell, it had been years since she had even smelled one. Though thankfully, this one was laced with a fake fruit smell, she couldn’t wait to store it in the deepest corners of her closet.

Whilst they were enjoying the pumpkin pie she had made, a knock resounded through the door. The four people in attendance stared at each other.

“Are you expecting anyone else?” Charlie asked, wiping off the whipped cream that had accumulated on his mustache. “Though it’d be just us tonight.”

“We aren’t,” Billy responded. “It’s a bit late for that.”

“I’ll check who it is,” (Y/N) offered, quickly standing. “It’s probably a tourist that got lost. You guys carry on.”

As the men went on with their conversation, (Y/N) went to see who was at the door. It was Christmas night, whilst it was snowing. If it was a tourist, they were crazy to be out at that time.

But when she opened the door, she was surprised that not only was it not a tourist, but it was Paul Lahote standing there in shorts and a tank top. His hair was dusted with white snowflake specs, the ones on his skin melting away right after contact.

(Y/N) was quick to close the door behind her. If there was anything she didn’t want it was for Jake and Paul to get into an altercation with her father and Billy around.

“Paul,” she chuckled as she pulled her jacket closer to her body. “What’re you doing here?”

“I was actually hoping to run into you here,” he responded. “This may sound weird, but I, uh I got you something.”

He handed her a rectangular box beautifully wrapped in red metallic paper with a white bow for decoration. She could tell he had taken his time to wrap the present – or had asked someone skilled to do it for him. By the cover alone she knew he had put care into the present.

“Can I open it now?”

“Please,” he smiled. “Go ahead.”

Carefully, she undid the paper, not wanting to even rip it, and she pulled a long box from inside. When she lifted the lid, she gasped. Inside a gorgeously crafted dreamcatcher, with cream feathers and colorful beads rested. Attached to the rim, a wooden wolf totem was attached. It was simple, it was thoughtful, it was beautiful.

“Oh, Paul, it’s stunning,” she said. “But you didn’t have to. I didn’t get you anything.”

“That’s okay,” he chuckled. “I just saw it at a local shop, and it reminded me of you. The wolf totem, it’s for protection. The wolf is supposed to help you manifestmore protection, better instincts, and stronger relationships in your life.”

“Seriously, Paul, it’s beautiful.”

Without knowing it, she was beaming. The surge of happiness that grew inside her was unfathomable, and she found herself wrapping him in a hug. This stranger had gotten her a more thoughtful gift than her boyfriend and friend.

Paul stiffened at first, surprised at the sudden show of affection. But instantly melted into her embrace, wrapping his own arms around her.

“I’m glad you liked it,” he smiled to himself. But the moment was cut short. From far inside the woods, a wolf called out to his pack, saying it was time to change shifts. “Uh, that was all. I just wanted to give you this. I should be heading back home now.”

“Oh.” Was she disappointed? “Then, I promise one day I’ll repay the favor.”

“There’s really no need.”

“I insist,” she said with a bright smile. “Seriously, Paul. This actually means a lot. Thank you.”

“Sure thing,” Paul smiled, running his hand through the back of his neck. “I’ll see you around. And, Merry Christmas, (Y/N).”

Before she could answer him, Paul seemed to vanish. (Y/N) couldn’t see his body anywhere close. So, she spoke to the air, “Merry Christmas, Paul.”

(Y/N) was quick to hide the gift in the car, under her seat. If she went back into the house with it, she was sure it would only cause discord with Jacob and her father. It was better if neither of them knew about one of the best gifts anyone had ever gotten her.

“Who was it?” Charlie called out when he saw his daughter walking back into the house. “You were out there for some time.”

“Oh, just a couple of tourists that got lost leaving the rez.”

“Tourists?” Jacob questioned. “Today of all days?”

“It was a newlywed couple, on a honeymoon road trip.”

“Mmm, young love,” Billy smiled toward (Y/N). It made her question if he had seen who she was actually speaking to. “What a great gift it is.”

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pastafossa · 1 year

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“And The Holly Cookies Too” (Matt Murdock x F!Reader, Fic)

Right I had to go out to shovel the furnace pipes again so while I’m waiting to warm up and go back to bed, I figured I’d finish editing and drop this little bit of TRT Christmas fluff, too, as a bonus! Summary: Matt is determined to support you in your experimental Christmas cookie bake-a-thon, even if it kills him. Warnings: none really, just Matt and his senses and cookies and humor. Wordcount: 1,481 Ship: Matt Murdock x F!Reader. This is technically TRT’s reader again, but TRT is not required reading.

“Right.” You put your hands on your hips, narrowing your eyes at the messy sea of ingredients on the counter and the containers stacked high on the kitchen table. “So we’ve done… cranberry shortbread—”

“Mhm,” Matt said behind you, his voice muffled.

“Gingerbread. Italian rainbow cookies. Ciro’s Christmas pizzelles. Your dad’s seven-layer cookies.”

“Mhm.”

“Christmas fudge. Snowball cookies.” You glanced back, then did a double take. “Matt.”

“Mmm?” he said, dusting his fingers off on his shirt.

“Stop eating the snowballs.”

“I wasn’t,” he said around a mouthful of snowball, blinking innocently at you.

“Then why is there powdered sugar on your face?”

“I can’t see them,” he said mournfully, abruptly shifting his argument. He tipped his head, licking the powdered sugar off his lips, and only Matt Murdock could manage a look so tragic after he’d just been caught red-handed… or sugar-handed, rather, with the evidence literally written across his face. “How was I supposed to know these were the snowballs?”

You snatched another snowball out of his hand, and he pulled a sad face until you leaned in and smacked a kiss against his lips. “Don’t eat them until after I pick the ones that we can give away. I want to make sure we have enough.”

At that, he chuckled, leaning in to touch his forehead to yours. “Sweetheart, we’ve been baking all day. We’ve got hundreds of cookies.”

“Some might be bad. I want to make sure I have good ones to give away,” you fretted, turning back around to stare at your latest project: a tray of sticky, marshmallow-y holly cookies. It had amazed you how much food coloring you’d needed to dump in to achieve the bright-green color, but damned if it hadn’t worked. Each little clump of cornflakes, held together by a sticky green mass of melted marshmallow, looked just like a holly leaf, complete with bright red cinnamon candies set in like berries. Or… or did they look like holly leaves? Were they too crooked? “Everyone else has gotten way more practice than me. I’m behind. I don’t want to be…”

“Be what?” He set his head over your shoulder as you morosely nudged at one of the holly cookies.

“Bad at Christmas,” you admitted.

“You can’t be bad at Christmas,” he told you gently. “That’s not how it works, sweetheart.”

“But what if I am!?” you howled, throwing your sticky hands up in the air. “Jesus—”

“Close,” Matt said with a straight face. “He’s on Christmas eve.”

“You know what I mean!” You turned, pulling away to pace wildly in the kitchen, baring your teeth at the holly cookies as if they were an enemy that needed defeating. “They look crooked.”

Matt closed his mouth, turning his head with a furrowed brow to consider the cookies.

“What are you doing?” you asked him curiously.

“They don’t…” He narrowed his eyes in focus. “They don’t… sound crooked? And even if they were, isn’t nature crooked? I’m sure they’re fine.”

You let out a huff, abruptly circling around, soothed a little by the sheer determination Matt had aimed towards your holly cookies. You let out a sigh as you stepped back up beside him, staring down at the cookies silently.

Maybe… maybe they didn’t look… all that bad.

“You think they’re ok?” you asked him nervously.

“I think they sound and feel amazing.” He leaned over to kiss your temple, and—you had a feeling—left some powdered sugar in your hair from the snowballs he’d been stealing. “For obvious reasons, I’m a poor judge of looks, and there’s a lot of sugar and cinnamon in the air from the last batch so I can’t quite separate the taste, but I’m sure they’re perfect.”

“I guess they look alright,” you mumbled, reaching forward to nudge one with another sigh. “Besides, it’s half taste anyway.”

“Let me try one, then.”

You threw him a baffled look. “What, these?”

“Yeah.”

“You hate green.”

He made a noise of protest. “I don’t hate green.”

“The last time you had something with green food coloring, you pulled a level ten stinky cat face. These have way more green food coloring than that.”

“It’s different when it’s a cookie,” he said stubbornly.

“Are you lying?”

“No,” he lied, licking his lips just once.

You narrowed your eyes. “You are lying! Matt—”

But it was too late. Before you could blink he’d snatched up one of the holly cookies and darted out of the kitchen. “They’re fine,” he told you, backing away. “I can smell the green. There’s not too much.”

You quickly came around the corner, pointing a finger as Matt boldly lifted the cookie. “Matt, don’t you dare.”

He got that look in his eye—the one that spelled trouble, the one that ended in gunshot wounds and legal cases best avoided, the one that meant he was about to do something absolutely ridiculous.

He took a confident, massive bite.

And froze.

Silence.

His lips and nose twitched, and you swore you could see the momentary flash of regret sweep through his eyes.

“You’re trying not to make the face, aren’t you?” You stepped in closer, mildly amused now. “The stinky cat face.”

“No,” he said, very, very carefully, his voice hoarse behind a mouthful of green food coloring and processed marshmallow. His nose and mouth wrinkled briefly before he forced it down, struggling with himself as he tried to chew. You swore his eye twitched. “These are… delicious.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you said fondly, your lips curling up into a grin at just how determined he was to carry on the lie for your sake. “Please stop suffering for me.”

“I’m just… enjoying it,” he said roughly, and oh, this time his eyes did twitch as he swallowed with great reluctance. It looked like it went down like acid, his body shivering as if to punish him for what he’d just knowingly ingested. Even so, he twisted his face into an approximation of contentment. “That… was one of the best cookies you’ve ever made. I didn’t… taste the green at all. People will love it.”

You held out a hand for the rest of the cookie. “I appreciate your attempts to lie to me about my terrible holly cookies, but—”

He shot you a look, something like absolute fire in his dark eyes.

Shit.

You shouldn’t have said that.

“Matt, give me the cookie,” you said quickly. He tipped his head and took one slow step back.

“Matt—”

“...No,” he said hotly, clenching his jaw. “I want to eat it. It’s mine.”

You darted after him, and he took off, vaulting over the couch with one hand, your holly cookie in his other. You, unfortunately, had to go around and by the time you circled the couch, he’d already hit the first landing on the stairs, and goddamit, normally you loved his level of athleticism, but not when you were trying to take something back from him like he was a dog who’d run off with the remote.

“Matt!” you shouted from the bottom of the stairs as he spun, now on the second level. “Don’t fucking eat that, I appreciate it, but you don’t—”

Which was when Matt—somehow managing the appearance of direct, aggressive eye contact—promptly shoved the entire goddamn cookie into his mouth.

“Are you serious?” you barked. “Matt—”

Matt stubbornly closed his mouth and chewed, once.

Then abruptly spun around, his back to you.

There was a choked noise, and you snorted as you came up the stairs. “Matt, spit it out.”

Another, more stubborn choked noise, and this time he shuddered. You were pretty sure he was just trying to get it down as fast as possible at this point, and you didn’t blame him.

“You goddamn masochist,” you said affectionately as you reached him, rubbing your hand softly down his shuddering back. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I love you,” he said hoarsely, fervent determination lying beneath, and you managed to spin him just in time to watch him work his throat, forcing down the rest of the holly cookie. He groaned as he did, though he tried to make it sound more like a moan of delight. “It… was amazing, sweetheart.”

And now that you got a better look at him, you slapped a hand over your mouth, holding back your laughter. “Oh God, Matt.”

His lips and tongue were now a bright, vibrant shade of emerald green.

Something he seemed to notice the second you did.

He lurched, his mouth falling open, his hand rising for just a moment as if in instinct to scratch at his tongue. He made a strange, ragged noise, then, one somehow full of both regret and apology.

You caught his chin, leaning in to kiss his cheek in sympathy. “I love you. Thank you for trying. It was a wonderful Christmas gift.”

“I’m sorry,” he grit out, groaning and leaning in to bury his face against your neck, his words garbled as if he hated the taste of his own tongue. “I-I tried. God, I hate green.”

“I know you did.” You kissed his hair beneath the glow of the Christmas tree, and somehow the Christmas lights were even less green than his mouth. And, well, even if your cookies didn’t ever turn out perfect, you’d still come out ahead as long as you had Matt here to try them with you. The reminder made you... a lot less nervous about the whole thing, even if you were hoping to prevent something like this from happening again. “No more holly cookies for either of us.”

“No more holly cookies.”

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istadris · 6 months

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You know, this idea about Bowuigi in the context of Luigi's Mansion ?

It's the spooky season so let's make it more angsty !

Luigi and Bowser have been dating in secret for a while, hiding and both happy with each other and sad they couldn't be more open about their relationship. Bowser wants to take the risk and reveal it all for the world to see, Luigi is too anxious to take the leap.

Most of all, there's how Bowser is still officially an enemy of the Mushroom Kingdom and occasionally commiting trouble, because that's what's expected from him, that's all he knows.

At some point Luigi finally builds up the courage of deciding to tell Mario...but he doesn't dare to hell it himself. And Bowser claims there's no way Mario would ever listen to him, since they only meet in battle.

"I mean, how I am supposed to prove I'm turning over a new leaf when we're fighting??"

"...Don't."

"What?"

"Don't fight. Next time you fight, stand down. Don't strike back. Mario wouldn't fight someone who doesn't defend themselves, and that's the last thing he'd expect from you, this is sure to get his attention !"

Bowser laughs and ruffles Luigi's hair, claiming this is a crazy idea, but you know what, worth a try.

The last time they see each other, Bowser is somber. He warns Luigi of his plans to draw Mario out to his castle so they can... (Bowser swallows and chews as if the word isn't used to the word) talk.

He'll break down the news to Mario. At least the "changing his way" part. Maybe he'll confess the romance as well, if it goes well, he jokes while Luigi is hugging him, thanking him for doing it.

The plan takes places, Mario chases after Bowser and Luigi stays at home, wrecked with nerves, torn between sticking to the plan and rushing to his brother's side. He should be here, this concerns him too, but the idea of Mario taking the news badly twists his guts and freezes him in place. For hours he paces, watching every ten seconds the road Mario has taken when leaving.

Hours pass. Shadows lengthen. The sun starts setting. The air grows colder.

And finally, Mario appears on the horizon.

Luigi rushes to meet him...and slows down as he comes closer.

Something has gone wrong.

He can see it in Mario's slow, heavy gait. In his darkened, scorched clothes. In the way he desperately rubs his deeply scarred hand, as if trying to remove his own skin.

When Luigi finally reaches him, Mario looks at him. Never had Luigi seen such haunted eyes on his brother's face.

"I didn't...I didn't mean to...to..."

Despite the anguish crushing Luigi's heart, despite knowing deep down already what has happened, Luigi asks, and forces himself to hear as Mario recount the events.

How out of nowhere, Bowser had suddenly stood down instead of fighting.

How Mario had already been in the middle of this attack, caught off guard by the unexpected.

How his attack had hit its target : not Bowser, but a batch of explosives, setting off a huge blast.

How Bowser, thrown off balance, had fallen.

How Mario had tried -he has tried, Luigi, he swears he has tried!- to catch him, how the claws had sunk into his flesh for a moment, before the Koopa had fallen into the lava below.

How he had tried, hoping desperately for a twist, a revelation, Kamek showing up out of nowhere, anything...

How instead, the throne room's door had been opened by Junior, confused by his dad's absence and asking what Mario was doing here alone....

That's when Mario's voice breaks, and he buries his head in his hands, sobbing, held by Luigi, who clings to his brother to not collapse as his heart feels ripped out off his chest.

And yet he doesn't tell anything.

Not this day, nor the day after, nor ever.

A part of Luigi wants to hate his brother; to throw in his face the true weight of what he has done; he wants to scream his pain and rage, the sheer injustice of the situation choking him until he can't breathe anymore.

But he knows Mario never meant for this to happen. Even if he had known the truth. Mario feels horrible enough for actually causing Bowser's death and Luigi can't bring himself to pile more on his guilt.

Mario is still his brother. He can't hate him, he doesn't think he ever would (he now knows he never can, if he still can't hate Mario after causing so much pain).

But he's grieving, alone, miserable, and for a while he can't even look at Mario without feeling like he'll cry all the tears in his body. Mario worries, he has noticed the distance Luigi seems to put between the two of them, but since Luigi keeps his secret, Mario doesn't know how to fix things.

For several months, they remain distant, and it hurts every single day.

Mario goes on a couple of adventures alone. Whenever he tries to invite Luigi to come along, Luigi uses excuses and stays at home. A home that feels too small and oppressive nowadays, with all the memories and complex feelings and secrets swirling inside.

Luigi needs a new start. Or at least some time on his own.

So when he's told he has won a mansion, he doesn't question how he's never participated in the context. On the other hand, Mario is suspicious but doesn't want to give Luigi the impression that he doesn't trust him, or that he won't respect his need for space.

But he just wants to make sure nothing is afoul. A quick little check before Luigi arrives...

As the mansion exploration goes on, when Luigi is told about "Bowser" returning, he doesn't care about any warnings: Bowser might be alive ! Maybe Mario didn't understand the situation and jumped to conclusions too soon, maybe Kamek found a way to bring his king back! And if he's here, it's probably because he's looking for Luigi !

Hope buoys him as he looks for his brother with a newfound determination. He will find them both! He knows it !

It's a long, long night. Dark and full of terrors, fleeting hopes crushed by horrors, relief and anguish mixed all together at the end.

Luigi wins, and Luigi fails, and despite the sheer, unaltered joy he feels once Mario is finally free from the painting...

It feels like losing Bowser again.

#super mario bros #luigi's mansion #bowuigi #miscellaneous mario madness #a sad one for once

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