Father Figure (1/?)
anonymous
March 31 2009, 03:23:12 UTC
(A-anon apologizes if this isn’t quite what OP wanted, but she’s a huge fluff-fag and likes writing snarky relationships. Also, Seinfeld joke wut
( ... )
Father Figure (2/?)
anonymous
March 31 2009, 05:20:39 UTC
Matthew stands there for a few more seconds, just watching her. When he thinks he can move, he does so quickly, slipping out the door and shutting it behind him before he can change his mind and just call his boss.
Even then, he leans against the door for a few more seconds, palms flat against the oak. Then he makes his way down the hall and towards the staircase.
“Hang in there, buddy,” he tells the tote bag. “You only have to put up with this for a few more days. You’ll have a new home soon. One that’s a lot more roomy, too.” His lip quirks up in a slight smirk. “Just hope you don’t mind your new roommate.”
New roommate. The implications of that statement fill his mind, and he can’t help but smile and whistle a little as he leaves their little house and starts the three-block walk to the nearest bus station
( ... )
Father Figure (3/?)
anonymous
March 31 2009, 15:15:45 UTC
my water just broke. i called arthur, hes on his way. i love you.
When he recovers from his blackout, he realizes he’s shaking a little.
Fortunately, his body kicks in where his mind had crashed and burned. His hand slips the BlackBerry back in his pocket; his legs make him stand as he grabs his tote bag and European carry-all. His body moves him to the doors of the conference room.
“Mister Williams?”
Matthew blinks and comes back to himself for a minute. He turns and realizes that he faces an entire room of directors and politicians who could very easily decide the fate of one of his historic landmarks.
“Mister Williams,” one of them prompts. “We haven’t stopped the meeting yet.”
Matthew licks his lips and tries to negotiate. “Sirs…I’m sorry, it’s just that my wife -”
“Can whatever it is wait until the meeting’s over?”
Oh, fuck it. Matthew’s not god at subtle stuff anyway
( ... )
Anon, my maternal streak is screaming in glee. D: I'm usually such a depresso-sadism fic reader/writer, and this is so sweet and so welcome, and damn it, I want a Matthew... <3
Father Figure (4/?)
anonymous
April 1 2009, 06:54:26 UTC
“Francis?” Matthew slows down and calls out to his father figure; Francis looks up and grins. He reaches over when Matthew comes within arm’s length to pat him on the back.
“Ah, here comes le fier papa!” he laughs, and before Matthew has a chance to say anything else he’s pulled into the room by the arm, coming face-to-face with his girlfriend and Arthur.
“Alice, sweetie, you’re doing all right? Remember, you have to breathe correctly, or else this is going to be a lot harder….”
“Daddy, will you relax? I already practiced this all with…Matthew!”
“Hi, sweetheart,” Matthew says, but his gaze is focused on Arthur, whose eyes are narrowed laser-thin in his direction. (He’s either smiling or baring his teeth. Matthew can’t decide which.)
“Alice and I tried to sneak in some Chardonnay for cette joyeuse occasion, but le killjoy found out.” Francis adds a glare aimed right at Arthur to his statement.
“Francis, this is a maternity ward, not a bloody pub! I mean, really, do you want your daughter-in-law to get kicked out of
( ... )
Canada/Anyone
mpreg or preg-->this anon would love to see some delivery room fluff; Canada being the doting/terrified/sweetheart/read-all-his-baby-books daddy.
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BY THE END OF THIS I FEAR I WILL BE IN A SUGAR COMA
ILU WRITERNON
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Even then, he leans against the door for a few more seconds, palms flat against the oak. Then he makes his way down the hall and towards the staircase.
“Hang in there, buddy,” he tells the tote bag. “You only have to put up with this for a few more days. You’ll have a new home soon. One that’s a lot more roomy, too.” His lip quirks up in a slight smirk. “Just hope you don’t mind your new roommate.”
New roommate. The implications of that statement fill his mind, and he can’t help but smile and whistle a little as he leaves their little house and starts the three-block walk to the nearest bus station ( ... )
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When he recovers from his blackout, he realizes he’s shaking a little.
Fortunately, his body kicks in where his mind had crashed and burned. His hand slips the BlackBerry back in his pocket; his legs make him stand as he grabs his tote bag and European carry-all. His body moves him to the doors of the conference room.
“Mister Williams?”
Matthew blinks and comes back to himself for a minute. He turns and realizes that he faces an entire room of directors and politicians who could very easily decide the fate of one of his historic landmarks.
“Mister Williams,” one of them prompts. “We haven’t stopped the meeting yet.”
Matthew licks his lips and tries to negotiate. “Sirs…I’m sorry, it’s just that my wife -”
“Can whatever it is wait until the meeting’s over?”
Oh, fuck it. Matthew’s not god at subtle stuff anyway ( ... )
Reply
Anon, my maternal streak is screaming in glee. D: I'm usually such a depresso-sadism fic reader/writer, and this is so sweet and so welcome, and damn it, I want a Matthew... <3
Reply
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“Ah, here comes le fier papa!” he laughs, and before Matthew has a chance to say anything else he’s pulled into the room by the arm, coming face-to-face with his girlfriend and Arthur.
“Alice, sweetie, you’re doing all right? Remember, you have to breathe correctly, or else this is going to be a lot harder….”
“Daddy, will you relax? I already practiced this all with…Matthew!”
“Hi, sweetheart,” Matthew says, but his gaze is focused on Arthur, whose eyes are narrowed laser-thin in his direction. (He’s either smiling or baring his teeth. Matthew can’t decide which.)
“Alice and I tried to sneak in some Chardonnay for cette joyeuse occasion, but le killjoy found out.” Francis adds a glare aimed right at Arthur to his statement.
“Francis, this is a maternity ward, not a bloody pub! I mean, really, do you want your daughter-in-law to get kicked out of ( ... )
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can't wait for more.
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D:
Anon, this warms my heart like a hot water bottle or a strategically placed cat.
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More anon, more!!
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