#groundsman

[weepingfoxfury]

'Just how long is this fence?' muttered Lucrezia, wincing as she heard Thomasina clatter into something before catching up with her ... 'Hmm?' said Thomasina ... Lucrezia sighed, 'I was just wondering how long this fence is' ... 'ah ... did you want me to measure it?' asked Thomasina ... 'what???' Said Lucrezia ... 'I said, did you want me to measure it?' ... Lucrezia gritted her teeth before sarcastically saying 'oh yes, would you? In the middle of the night when we're both at risk of being caught sneaking around by the Groundsman, naturally I think you should measure the bloody fence!' ... there was a strange noise and Lucrezia's mouth dropped open as she realised what was happening ... she slowly turned to see a dimly lit and smiling Thomasina brandishing her tape measure ... 'not a problem' said Thomasina 'I'll have this done in a jiffy' ...

[raspberryzingaaa]

You know you've had to do all the safety training when you're reading a book and two dudes are taking a tree down and one of them has never done it before and its just them and they ARNT wearing PPE of any sort (just glasses) and there's no mention of how far away he's standing from the tree and at one point the grounds man pulls put his phone w just one hand on the rope and -

[dottofrancesco]

Dotto Francesco

Interviste sulla sicurezza dei manti erbosi. La sicurezza del campo da gioco deve prevalere sugli interessi personali (particolarmente in Italia ; ma avviene anche altre nazioni) ed avere l'unico scopo garantire la stessa, la giocabilita la sicurezza e la bellezza del campo, senza interferenze da parte dei manutentori esterni che curano solo i propri interessi e non quelli delle societa facendo spendere quasi il doppio del necessario senza alcuna garanzia, per questo motivo e importare portare avanti il progetto dei groundsman dipendenti dalle società come stanno facendo in 3/4 del mondo. Creiamo Insieme una Nuova Cultura Sportiva sensibile al rispetto della sicurezza e della sostenibilità! Francesco Dotto #dottofrancesco#grassmed#fenimpresabari#figc#legaseriea#legaserieb#legapro#lnd#sportesalute#formazione#gruondsman#fenimprese#federazionenazionaleimprese#lavoro#jobopportunities#FIFA#UEFA#Italia#Spagna#Francia#Inghilterra#Austria#Svizzera#Slovenia#dfcg#tuttosport#corrieredellosport#SkySport#RaiSport#Eurosport

e #gazzettadellosport#giornalisti#stampa#giornale#calcio#rugby#corrieredellasera#repubblica#libero#ilgiornale#laverità#dirittoesport#panorama#espresso#statigeneralimondodellavoro#ministerodellosport#ministerodellavoro#sport#italy#formazione#qualità#dfcg#USA#Canada#Cina#Tunisia#Algeria#Marocco#mediaset

[ladykailitha]

The Au Pair Boy Part 6

We're back on schedule with this and for whatever reason, it always seems to get ahead of the other stories so I have a lot in backlog for this one.

In this we have Steve trying to find people to work for Eddie.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

~

The gardeners were the first people he hired. A brother duo named Jonathan and Will Byers. The younger brother would design what they wanted the garden to look like, which they would email to Eddie to get checked off on and then both of them would go to town.

Within their first week a lot the debris had been cleared away and they had began trimming back the foliage that would do damage to the property.

Steve immediately bargained for more money for them after that. They deserved it after the mess they had to clean up was quickly and efficiently taken care of.

The groundsman was a gruff, older guy who looked like he had just walked off the set of “The Secret Garden”. His name was Jim Hopper and was happy to move into the groundskeeper’s house on the property. It had been there since the house had been built and Eddie had revamped into to a sort of mother-in-law suite.

The problem he was running into was finding a pool company that hadn’t black listed the address because apparently Ethan liked harassing them, male or female. Asking them to wear skimpy clothes to clean it, putting leaves in the pool so they would have to fish it out with their long nets meaning they would have to lean over a lot, and so on.

Steve was about ready to give up when he found a guy just starting out. He didn’t have any clients yet and was willing to at least take a look at the pool.

He nearly sobbed with relief.

When the man arrived, Steve was pleased to find a well-dressed black man with a shiny new truck and all new equipment. In bright blue lettering on the side of the truck was Sinclair’s Cleaning Service and underneath was a couple of the things they did, like gutters, driveways, gullies, and of course pools.

He wore cargo pants and a polo shirt with the logo on the front with the name Charles underneath and had a bright smile on his face when he greeted Steve with a firm handshake.

“I hope you don’t mind me bringing my son along,” Charles said indicating his meek shadow. “My daughter Erica caught a cold so my wife is taking her to the doctor’s to see if we can’t get her some medicine. But I couldn’t leave him at home and Sue didn’t want to take him with her.”

“Because I would be bored, Dad,” the boy huffed.

Charles chuckled. “Because he would be bored. Say hello, Lucas.”

“Hi, Mr. Harrington,” Lucas said. “This is a pretty nice house you’ve got here.”

Steve smiled at him. “It’s not my house,” he said wistfully, “I’m just a cog in the machine that helps it run. Think of me as...” he tapped his lips thoughtfully, “the house steward. I’m taking care of all the hiring of staff for the owner, Eddie Munson.”

“And he’ll be the one paying the bill?” Charles asked as Steve led them all the way to the back where the pool was.

“That’s right,” Steve said, opening the back gate to let them through. “There is place to store anything you need so that you don’t have lug heavy stuff back here every time.” He pointed to the shack off the side of the pool. He had paid Jonathan and Hopper extra to help him clean it out.

“Looks good,” Charles said, opening the door to see inside. “The pool isn’t a weird shape, so that helps. Strange color of the water though.”

“Water’s clear,” Steve assured him. “The owner just had the floor of the pool painted red instead of blue.”

Charles and Lucas shared raised eyebrows. “Did he now?”

“Yup!” Steve said with a grin. “You’ll be able to see for yourself on the times you have to drain it.”

Lucas picked up a plastic measuring cup and dipped it in the water, clearly not quite believing Steve that the water wasn’t red. The giggle he gave when the water came out clear made Steve grin.

“Well, I’ll be,” Charles huffed. He turned to Steve. “I think I’m the man for the job.” He stuck out his hand and Steve shook it.

“It appears you are,” he said with a smile. “Hey, Lucas, there’s another boy here around your age, helping his older brother with the gardening. Would you like to meet him?”

Lucas looked over at his dad, who nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

Steve led the way to the main garden where Will and Jonathan trimming the shrubbery. The one they were currently working on was the Beetlejuice snake.

“Hey, Jonathan!” Steve called out. “Will! Come meet our new pool peeps.”

Both boys shared a glance but put their trimmers down and came over.

“Will and Jonathan Byers, our gardeners extraordinaire,” Steve introduced. “Meet Charles and Lucas Sinclair. If you need anything you can ask each other if you can’t find me.”

“Lucas is about start high school,” Charles prompted. “How old are you, Will?”

Will looked over at Jonathan unsure if he should say.

“He’s fourteen,” Jonathan answered for him, ruffling his hair. “He’s starting high school this year, too. He’s just a March baby, so he’ll be younger then his peers.”

Will stuck his tongue out at his brother.

“You’ll forgive me, Jonathan,” Charles said gently, “but you don’t look much older than he is.”

Jonathan laughed. “I’m older than I look. I went to high school with Steve-o here. My parents had Will as ‘let’s a have another baby to fix our failing relationship’ ploy. The business was my dad’s.”

Charles looked over at Steve and raised an eyebrow. Steve didn’t look much older than the two teens either.

“I’m twenty-five,” Steve said, putting his hands on his hips. “I am,” he insisted when Charles and Lucas gave him matching disbelieving looks.

Jonathan cleared his throat in to the resulting awkwardness. “Yeah, let’s just say that didn’t work out and my mom got the lawn and garden business in the divorce because she put the time and effort into it, and he drank the profits. Then when I turned eighteen, I took it over. This is Will’s first year helping me out.”

“You two the only employees?” Lucas asked tilting his head to the side. “I mean I get with my dad, he’s just starting out, but you’ve been doing this for years.”

“No,” Jonathan snorted. “But to gardens this impressive and important, I’m not going to let anyone near them but me and Will. I had the whole team out to clean things up but for maintenance and design I take care of it and Will helps.”

Lucas just shrugged his shoulders. “It’s your funeral, man.”

“Bigger places than this,” Steve huffed, “have been handled by lesser men than Jonathan Byers. I wouldn’t have hired him if I didn’t think he could do the job.” He patted Jonathan on the arm.

Jonathan blushed and ducked his head. “Thanks, Steve.”

“Do you like D&D?” Will suddenly blurted out like he couldn’t contain his nerdiness any longer.

Both Jonathan and Steve braced for rejection, but Lucas lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Hell yeah!” he cried. “I have a level thirteen half-elf ranger. But the other half isn’t human, it’s a teifling!”

“Whoa!” Will said, eyes wide. “I didn’t know you could do that!”

Suddenly both boys were off rambling about stat blocks and armor proficiency and the three adults turned to each other.

“Do you have any idea what they’re talking about?” Charles asked with a grimace. “He always goes too fast for me to understand.”

Jonathan held up his hands in surrender. “Don’t look at me, I was the loner artsy type in high school, I didn’t do that nerd crap.”

Steve held his thumb and forefinger close together. “I know a little bit. It’s really popular with the kids now days. Especially after that TV show came out and had all the main characters playing it.”

“Better you than me,” Jonathan huffed. “Nancy’s little brother and Will used to play all the time, but they lost their GM or something and haven’t been able to play since.”

Steve nodded. “I think they prefer DM in D&D, but GM works.” He stopped and turned to interrupt the stream of D&D coming from Will and Lucas. “How many people do you need to play again?”

Lucas and Will paused for a moment.

“Counting the DM?” Will asked and Steve nodded. “Um...four to five ideally but can have up to seven comfortably.”

“So if you, Lucas and Mike all play,” Steve said slowly, licking his lips over his sly smile, “then you would want to have one more to make it ideal?”

“Why?” Lucas scoffed, “Do you just happen to have someone who could play?”

“Yes.”

Both boys looked at each other and then back at Steve, aghast.

“There is no way,” Lucas huffed, putting his hand on his hips.

“I’d have to ask Eddie,” Steve said, motioning all of them to follow him. He led them through the house, “but I’m pretty sure he’d be thrilled to let you use it.”

He opened a door that was just off from the kitchen on the other side of the theater room. In it was everything a tabletop gamer could want. It had row upon row of books on the shelves. Tables to put snacks on. Dice of every color imaginable and figures of every race, class, and monster type were in carefully labeled small drawers. But the centerpiece, the crowning glory of the room; a long table that had a town laid out on it, complete with the squares for combat and movement.

“Holy shit!” Lucas swore, his eyes wide, blocking the doorway.

Charles, who could see over the top of his son. “I’ll allow it this once, but otherwise, watch your language.”

Will pushed Lucas out of the way to see into the room, too. “Oh. Um. That’s just...wow.”

Steve ushered them into the room. “I don’t doubt there would be certain things off limits and I would have to be here to supervise, at least while Eddie is gone. But feel free to look around. I wouldn’t touch though.”

Lucas and Will ran into the room filled with glee. Will went straight the mini-figures and Lucas went to the table.

“Gosh, Steve,” Charles said, “are you sure that the owner will be all right letting the boys play in here? It all looks so expensive, I shudder to think what would happen if they broke something.”

To Charles’s surprise it was Jonathan that chuckled and shook his head. “Nothing. He buys a new one and carries on like nothing happened. Will broke one of the two Gate of Kings statues at the opening of the hedge maze. He had a new one out the next day. Didn’t say shit about Will breaking it. Just it happened, move on.”

Charles still looked skeptical so Steve pulled out his phone. “Hey, Eddie. I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time. Yep, he’s taking the job. Yeah, he has a fifteen year old son named Lucas who is going to be helping out. No, no. Nothing like that. Will let it slip he likes D&D and that spawned Lucas liking it. Of course I did. I didn’t even have to ask, yes. That’s why I’m calling. Brilliant, thank you. Yep. We’ll talk at bed time as always. Bye.”

“Now all I have to do is call my friend Dustin,” he said with broad smile. “He was my first nannying job and is about their age. I kept in contact with him and his mom because they’re good people. He was just complaining the other day that his school shut down their D&D club and none of the other former members were interested in trying to keep it alive.”

Just then Will came up to him and hugged him. “Thanks, Steve. This is going to be so awesome. Mike is absolutely going to flip his shit.”

Steve ruffled Will’s hair and smiled. “Oh yeah, I totally have to be there when he sees it for the first time.”

Charles brought his chin in and looked at Steve for a moment. “It sounds as though you hired your friend to the do the gardening job instead of the best man for the job.”

“Dad,” Lucas warned, “if you ruin this for me, I will never speak to you again. He already said that Jonathan and his team was the best for the job. Youth doesn’t mean lack of experience. He’s been doing the landscaping thing for seven years. You’ve only been doing the cleaning thing for a month.”

Charles ducked his head. “I’m sorry. That was out of line. Especially just having agreed to the job for you and all.”

“Apology accepted,” Jonathan said with a nod. “Come on, Will we really do have to get back to work. I’ll get you Steve’s number later and he can help you coordinate this all for you guys.”

Will nodded and after swapping numbers with Lucas, followed his brother out the door.

Charles smiled at Lucas. “Aren’t you glad I made you come today?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he huffed. “I only set off the fire alarm that once and that was because the bacon grease dripped onto the gas flame. It’s not my fault you and mom decided to come home at that exact moment.”

Steve burst out laughing. “That’s the worst, kid. But yeah, it’ll be in your thirties before you live that one down.”

Charles shook hands with Steve and said they would be back on Saturday to start the pool cleaning.

Steve watched as they walked away. He just need to call Dustin and lure him over here. A picture of the D&D room would do just the trick.

~

Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Tag List: SEVEN REMAINING

1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @tartarusknight @gregre369

2- ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @cryptid-system @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi

3- @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch

4- @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @ollieolive @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @genderless-spoon

5- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

6- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

7- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

8- @sadisticaltarts @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @dolphincliffs @steddie-as-they-go @steddieislife

9- @kultiras @morallyundefined @themoonagainstmers @fearieshadow @blondie1006

10- @thesecondfate

[markiplitessepticeyes]

you must not had seen the twitch stream of benjamin the butler answering questions

Just making shit up about these guys in my head at this point to make up for the lack of canon lore

[thenightshadowqueen]

The best character from each longform

(in my biased opinion)

This is (obviously) a long one, so if you do want to read it, more below.

(Also I left out the Patreon plays. I might do a separate post for them later; we’ll see.)

Jimmy (Tom, Toby’s Secret Pocket)

Look, Jimmy is the best. He’s adorable. He’s the representation we as the autistic community needed. He has happy flappy stimmy hands. He can’t walk through doors. We love him. (STOPINTHENAMEOFTHELAW!!!!!)

André Beetroot (AJ, Burglary and Bobsledding)

André Beetroot (André Beetroot) was iconic the first time around, but his return as the first recurring SFTH character obviously had to be memorialised.

The boy witch (Sam, Moist and Magical)

I was tempted by the witchfinder general, but the boy witch won out with “Henry Cavill with a wasting disease” and his thick accent. Also the cheeky little look he gives his grandma (Luke) when he flips her off wins him a lot of points.

Hugh’s mum (Tom, Marigolds Bluebells and Hugh)

She’s, like, a fair bit unhinged, but she has good intentions. She’s got amazing quotes, too; “why couldn’t you have just stayed in my womb forever” and “if you love something, lock it up” are both deeply concerning, but I love them.

The wife (Tom, Murders in Space)

This one is kind of an obvious choice. I mean, her quotes are glorious, and honestly “have you ever heard of feminism, James?” gets her top spot automatically.

Mario the sheep (Sam, the Lighthouse)

Was this even a question? I love Mario intending to be a one-scene character and then being forced to star in the whole play. I love the human bits. I love “🐑fuck you🐑”. I love the sheep (aka Sam) having a fucking breakdown at the end. 10/10 all around.

Titch (Luke, the Unrelenting Aubergine)

Listen, I was very tempted by Old Lady Margery (and by Derek), but in the end, canon queer guy with commitment issues and insane amounts of blindness around his own feelings won out. What can I say, I have a type in fictional characters.

Troll Son (Luke, Wine Under the Bridge)

Everything about this character is perfect. Screaming as hello? Colourful troll as a metaphor for being queer? Correcting a geography fact? It’s got it all. It’s perfect. I love Troll Son and his wine bar in Ipswich.

Juliet (AJ, Caesar and Juliet)

Is anyone surprised? She’s a murderous girlboss. “[My mother] said you have to be careful about men; they can be corrupted with power. But what she didn’t know is that so can woman.” They can, and I’m here for it. She’s bathing in blood and her skin is glowing. I love insane women.

Watson (Sam, the Mystery of the Midnight Circus)

Watson, driven mad with grief over his divorce and his one-sided love for Sherlock, becomes a murderous clown. Am I supposed to not love this? Is there even another choice in this play? And his breakdown at the end was gorgeous.

Priscilla (AJ, Pricilla’s Final Petal)

I was very tempted by both of her mums, and also a bit by the groundsman, but ultimately, Priscilla won out. She’s the title character. She’s confused, but she’s got the spirit, and she’s working through her trauma with a buttercup and a piano lesson. Good for her.

Marty (Sam, the Evil Make-a-Wish Kid)

I considered the seven-year-old detective, but in the end, Marty won. He’s evil. He’s a make-a-wish kid. What more can I say? He’s got an iconic smirk. He burns down all the petting zoos on the entire planet (and his mum). He dies at the end. He’s brilliant.

Derek (Tom, Susan’s Holiday)

There were a lot of great options in this one, but “I like looking at the back of another man’s head” was too good to pass up. Also, I adore the whole monologue he has while he’s waiting to be buzzed in.

The gasoline salesman (Luke, Beetroots and Murder)

Okay, I know he’s only in, like, a quarter of a scene. I know that. And I can’t tell you why I love him so much but I do. He’s just. I just love him. I can’t explain it. There are so many great characters in this play, but the way he says “could be, could be” has captivated me. If you understand the way my brain works, please contact me, because I don’t.

Peter Steven (Tom, the Milkman)

I love so many characters in this play. I love Gareth, and I love the Texan bartender, and I love David the milkman. But Peter Steven is the sweetest, most traumatised little boy and I want to protect him. I will adopt him and I will never make him walk on his knees again. I will throw away the PS5 and I will let him dig up the back garden as many times as he wants.

Johnny and Janae (Luke and Tom, the Neighbour’s Under the Bed)

I know they’re two separate characters, okay, but they’re a set. I want to keep them together. And I just can’t choose, okay? They’re two autistic children whose neurodivergence presents in opposite ways, and their parents don’t know what to do with them, and oh look, I’m back to wanting to adopt traumatised children.

Captain Egbert (Luke, the Leftenmost Window)

Shoutout to the mum, but Egbert won this one. He’s, like, kind of an idiot. I’m here for it, though. He’s got the iconic “diluileayilybilyeilysilym” speech. He wants to go to the ~astral plane~ but he’s waiting for his birthday. He lets his wife dip him into a kiss even though it’s 1940. I love him.

The king (Sam, the Prime Minister’s First Day)

Listen, I love several characters from this one, but I’m going with this one. He’s unapologetically a dick. He wears impenetrable armour made from diamonds stolen from Indian subculture. He’s impossible to beat. He’s brilliant. (Also did anyone else kind of find Sam hot as the king or is that just me?)

Franz Haberburg (Sam, the Excited Chinchilla)

Obviously fuck Nazis (god I hope that’s obvious). That being said, some of SFTH’s best characters are Nazis, and this is one of them. He’s glorious. I have never seen such a brilliant rendition of a Nazi chinchilla.

The Italian detective (Tom, the Ingredients)

He can’t pronounce paella. Do I need another reason?

Chip (Sam/AJ, the Cardboard Stegosaurus)

Oh look, another traumatised child! I want it. (No, but seriously, I love Chip and his English/French seizures.) Also he’s one of the few characters who switches actors mid-play, and I love that.

Persephone (Tom, Wild Wet and Worrisome)

She’s amazing. “HEY!” is a gorgeous siren call and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. She deserved a happy ending and I’m still sad we didn’t get one. I like to think she swam to the shore and found Geoff again, and they lived happily ever after on a boat at sea, singing and not having to kill anyone.

Full Set O’Hands and his love/bother (Luke and Tom, No! I Always Loved that Caravan)

I know, I know, another set of characters, but you really can’t separate these two. They’re insane. I adore them. They’re just… Honestly, these two are comedy gold. Good for them because they are fucking timeless.

Andrew (Luke, All Eyes on Nigel)

Listen, Andrew is a naive little thing, and he must be protected at all costs. He goes through so much shit in this one, and I just want to wrap him up in a blanket and send him to rehab.

Magnus O. Puss (Tom, BUS)

Okay, this was a VERY close one between them and Arthur B. D., but Magnus is a genderqueer icon and we love them for it. Also, I feel like this is some of the most unhinged Tom content we have and I live for that.

Jeremiah (Luke, Inside the Mysterious Cube)

I was so torn because I love Bubba, too, but I’m trying to avoid putting sets of characters where possible, and Jeremiah just edged past Bubba because his death scene was gorgeous. (That is a mildly concerning reason to have a favourite, I will admit.)

Lord Lafayette (Tom, the Midnight Mystery)

You may be noticing a pattern; I adore Tom’s insane characters. We just don’t get to see that often enough. I love his very sexual flirting with Lady Lafayette (Sam). I love him making fun of the detective’s (Luke’s) shirt. I love “what does any self-respecting rich man do when he has a little boy in tights” followed by “captured—and only captured” as a save. I love him.

Dangerfield (AJ/Tom/AJ again, Once Upon a Time I Killed Mum)

I love the confusion when Tom briefly takes over as Dangerfield; it’s not often we get to see AJ understanding something that Sam doesn’t (I say this with all the love in the world). Dangerfield is so fascinating to me. He’s a “cleaner” for a crime lord, but he has mixed feelings about the things he does. I want to know how he got into it in the first place. How did he come into this life? I want to know.

Barry’s wife (AJ, the Hare who Wore a Sweater)

I don’t remember her having a name, but I could be wrong about that. She’s so sweet; she just wants to knit sweaters for the hares in peace. And then Jimmy the hare gets shot, and she and her husband go on a revenge plot. I’m here for it. I love her.

The king/tank commander (AJ, the Oopsie Daisy Bulge)

He’s obsessed with tanks. He used to have gay sex with his fellow tank commanders, but only as a joke. He sailed all the way around, through the other landlocked counties, into the east of France, and they never saw it coming. He drove tanks into the ocean. He’s so stupid he’s almost smart. I love him.

The landowner/farmer (Luke, Too Big to Be a Jockey)

He farms peasants (Luke, you genius). He’s such a dick, with his classist remarks about Johnny Jones, but somehow I love him anyway. His interview process is looking at a photo of someone and then hiring them, and he’s honestly wonderful. I love him.

Larry (Tom, Long Johns—Strike!)

Literally the only thing he does on screen is die. That’s it. That’s his whole purpose. And he does it beautifully.

Wizard Asceroth (Sam, the Dark Moons of Slough)

ASCEROOOOTTTHHHH!!! (I don’t have another reason. I don’t need another reason.)

The French waiter (Luke, Lost in Your Eyes)

I don’t know. I really don’t. But something about this character has stuck with me since the first time I watched it. Gorgeous accent. He kisses Amanda (Sam) for no reason at all. He gets stabbed by a gun. I love him.

The Lady of a Thousand Don Juans (Luke, the Meringue Haberdashery)

She tricked her husband for years. She murdered her own child. She has been a curse on all the Don Juans in this town. She’s one of the only villains who win at the end of a longform, and that’s very impressive. I love her.

Xavier (Tom, Oh my God is This a Joke?)

(Please refer to my previous statement about Nazi characters.) Okay, look. He’s a horrible person. But we as a fandom choose to disregard that because Tom looks amazing in a leather jacket and scarf. I am not above this. I am, in fact, a part of this. Tom looks amazing in a leather jacket and scarf. “I will die as I have lived…. Shirtless!” has to be one of the most iconic lines of all time. There was never any competition.

[thevoidcannotbefilled]

Groundsman who is the definition of "that's none of my business" vs Taxi Driver "Yeah fuck customer confidentiality for 50 quid"

They should kiss actually

[hocuspocusbabyy]

Home: Eloise x Cressida. 18+ 🦢🕊️

Warnings: Affairs, outdoor sex, love declarations and cunnilingus.

Description: Eloise and Cressida go hunting.

Parring: Eloise Bridgerton and Cressida Cowper.

'We’re not far from the clearing'' Cressida stated, her riding boots ankle deep in mud. Wading through the woodlands on the outskirts of the estate. Thick branches wove their path blocking the view ahead, allowing no further than three feet of their journey observed. A low hum of creatures leaked through the marsh. Cressida was no stranger to the forest, many of her early years had been spent chasing deer, rabbits and foxes. Her origin.

''Have caution, Cress I beg of you.” Eloise wagered, trolling on behind her friend. She did not ask unnecessary questions, nor provide unwanted aid as so many other hunting companions and for that Cressida had always been grateful.

“Once a hunter, always a hunter.” Cressida mused, cutting away at the vines before her, “however, I will try my best to avoid any close encounters.” The blonde laughed at her own words, her chin flicking back to view her companion. “I promise I won’t let anything happen to you Lou.” She winked.

''Always the gentleman.” Eloise complimented, shaking her head slowly as she surveyed their surroundings. A thick smog surged around them, the smell garnered attention. Thick frost encapsulates the ground, snow bunching around their boots as they thimbled through the forest.

The pair walked further into the woods, mud slowly converging into snow.''Whatever possessed you to join me hunting?'' Cressida asked curiously. Her gun flat against her side as she swayed to view the other woman.

''I decided, you were right. I should get out more and explore the world ‘outside of books’, it is an added bonus to have decent company” she admitted, a book stuffed with flower clipping and drawings from their adventures pressed on her chest.

Cressida smirked, ''well, if you are not to curse me, I will be sure to make a habit of telling you things you need to hear.”

‘’Oh how so fond I am of your habits.” The brunette sighed, attempting to strike down a particular stubborn grove of trees with her book.

“Eloise?” Cressida questioned, stepping forward, gently placing an arm in front of the other woman. A hand softly grasping her elbow, travelling along its roots to halt her hand. Eloise’s movements ceased, her chin downcast a strand of hair affecting her eyes.

“I merely wished to spend time with you.” She stated, motioning her head up in an attempt to do away with the irritating sensation. “I do not know what will come of this.” A strong hand coming up to tuck the strand away, found purchase at her face.

To look into those eyes was to teeter on the brink of an abyss.

Cressida strung her thumb against the brunette's flesh, tracing the accent of bone there. Slowly dislodging the book from her companion and striking the mass of foliage down herself with the top of her gun.

“I could have done that.” Eloise argued, her breath slightly laboured.

“I know.” Cressida shrugged, brushing off the book's cover and handing it back, “that does not mean you should have to.”

Eloise shook her head, rolling her eyes in the most unlady-like fashion before stalking ahead knowing full well the blonde would follow.

They walked for what seemed like hours. Finally stumbling upon an groundsman cabin at the edge of the estate. Eloise pushed the old hatch door with surprising force, inviting the blonde in from the cold.

”well hurry up then,” The brunette called out, already making haste towards the fireplace, battling with her corset as she bent down. Small flame whipping up at her hand as she stuck the flint, till a dim light gripped the glass wall of the outhouse.

“I fear I am turning numb” Cressida whispered crouching down beside Eloise, raising her hands up to the other woman. Her fingers stained red by the harsh November air, the slender tips white and frozen to Eloise’s touch as she reached out to squeeze them.

A soft glow cast upon her cheek, the perfectly sharp cheekbones, crescent of her nose… dimples chin.

Something within Cressida seemed to constantly burn, it unnerved her. As incongruous to her true temperature. If Eloise were a moth, she would be her flame.

“Miss Cowper, you’ll freeze surly. How could you withstand such temperatures for so long? Where are your gloves?!” The brunette panicked, rubbing the other woman’s hands firmly between her own. Truly she had been far too occupied with the other parts of Cressida to notice their absence.

“Well my face was already pained by smiling too much, I figured a little frostbite was a small price to pay for a moment longer with you.” Cressida shrugged, her gaze flicking down to watch Eloise cup her hands and blow onto them gently.

“I see.” Eloise mumbled, desperately trying to hide the smirk that threatened to grace her features. Her breath heavy upon the cold winter air, as though smoke, held an oddly comforting sensation for Eloise. Her lips dipping down to kiss the blonde's palms.

“You know if you wanted my attention there are far warmer ways to go about it.

The brunette, hunched down tending the other woman’s hands, gently rolling them between her own as her lips travelled down to her wrists. The smooth flesh resting upon her pulse.

“Eloise.” Cressida gasped as the warm flick of a tongue swept across her veins. “I do crave your attention. However I refuse to humiliate myself by asking for it.”

“Then do not ask.” Eloise whispered, a firm kiss against the blondes palm as she drew back to face her. “Isn’t it about time you did something selfish for once?”

“Eloise.” Cressida whined, her head lulling as the brunette pressed her lips to the tip of her index finger. The rest spread within her firm grip. Flexing beneath her motion.

“Do you feel that?” Eloise mumbled, her mouth working its way across each finger till she reached her thumb.

“A li—little” Cressida gasping as the brunette's teeth sunk into the thenar of her left hand. Tiny indentation littering the web space.

“Just a little?” Eloise teased blowing air upon the space, watching in awe as the skin of the blondes hand lurched beneath. Goosebumps erect and solid as the brunette continued her menstruations upon Cressida’s arm. Cool to the touch and all the more delicious to the tip of her tongue. “And now.”

“It is the strangest sensation.” Cressida breathed, the ability to decipher the sentiment lost. How was one to describe something so pleasant? As though untroubled light, quintessential and affable.

“Would you prefer I stop?” Eloise asked, pulling back to gaze at the other woman. Her fringe muses and feathered against her face, a frame that ought to be ornate as to house such striking features. Her cheeks robust and thick with tint, the blondes hands rose to brush across them. First with the backs of her fingers the cool touch causing the shorter woman to shiver. Her knuckles pulled in lightly at her flesh, a sickening motive of possession gripped Cressida as she turned her palms towards the other woman’s face.

The pads of her thumbs wiping beneath the Bridgerton girl's face, pulling at her burning cheeks till her fingers curled and settled beneath her jaw.

“It should be immoral to look as you do.” The blonde complimented, an awe stuck expression grazing her face. “Every motion, a transgression I cannot help but chase.”

Cressida's face fell forward, the crisp touch of her nose brushing against Eloise’s own. Clouds of cold breath lingering around them as they simply coexisted. The warmth of the others breath hot against their face.

“Do you wish to unknow me?” Eloise asked after a moment, her lips so close to the other woman’s that they touched as she spoke.

“I do not know you.” Her chest was tight, her fingers mapping the contours of Eloise’s back. Counting each notch of spine below her bodice, as water circling a drain. Washing her away.

“You know me better than anyone ever has.” Eloise argued, her mouth pressed upon the underside of Cressida’s jaw.

They did not understand it, this desire to consume another. Be devoured in return. obtain the scars as proof they were paying for the sins committed. If loving Eloise were a sin, Cressida would happily wear her sacrilege.

Eloise bit her. A growing heat upon her neck as the brunette dove into her, sucking until the flesh burst and coloured beneath her tongue.

“My greatest honour.” The blonde promised, extending her neck to the other woman. Her back pressed girly against the frosty glass as Eloise worked to mark her. The conflicting messages of November air upon her neck and Eloise’s tongue etching language into her flesh. Cressida felt as though every word she had ever uttered were meaningless in comparison to the words which she felt when Eloise spoke again.

“You smell of something floral. I could not tell you how many nights I have spent in these very gardens trying to replicate this scent.”

“And what did you find?” Cressida asked her hand raising to grasp the other woman’s neck, fingers tangled, tethered to the soft tissue. Her nails lingered up across the dip in her dress, before slipping beneath. Her palm cold against the burning flesh of Eloise’s shoulders.

“Nothing of interest.” Eloise deadpanned, her kisses becoming lethargic and long upon her neck. Her fingers racing to play with the thrills of Cressida’s dress. “I doubt I’d ever be able to replicate something so purely built of you.”

The blonde couldn’t help but grin at those words, a smooth warmth spreading throughout her body. She knew my story before I even knew how to tell it. As though she’d seen a map Cressida had no hand in making, intended footpaths, passed by and new trails formed for only her.

Whatever it were in this world that binds us all… dust, blood, consciousness, they are of a similar thread. Different species of trees planted side by side… Eloise is the one she’d choose the fruit off.

Eloise found herself willing to share that part with her, just as Cressida must share those parts of her. Their last thought at night, she were the first of the day. Left to linger in one another’s personhood. Eloise read Cressida as though she had been blank on every page, just waiting to be deciphered, filled and known.

“Eloise.” Cressida whispered, her hands trailing across the span of her shoulder blade. Gripping harshly as the sensation of teeth ran along her clavicle.

“Forgive me, I forget myself.” Eloise breathed, looking up but never stepping back. Her hands reaching up touch Cressida’s face, “Are you feeling any warmer dear?” She whispered, turning her palms away to graze the blushing with her knuckles.

“Substantially.” The blonde laughed gently, her own hands tracing along the length of Eloise’s arms. Fingernails dragging up towards her jaw line, as though tracing her likeness.

The brunette was turned to blush, a mirror to her companion as they both simply allowed to explore one another. Finger tips to earlobes, thumbs up on knees, lips against chests. Eloise’s hands trailed up the blondes back before tearing down at the garment. Pulling it from her flesh. Eloise, even now staring upon the other woman’s bare chest, she could only yearn for more.

“This space here.” The brunette started pulling the other woman’s attention to her fossa, Eloise’s thumb applying gentle pressure to the notch. “I love this place, I cannot for the life of me rem—what is it called?” She asked her fingers trailing lightly to her sternum in awe, “I claim this.”

“I thought we were against ownership?” Cressida breathed. Baring her teeth to the bridgerton girl in a soft smile, sedated by the bit of her lip. Something cunning to her disposition.

“Sometimes it pays to be selfish.” Eloise whispers against her throat before drawing a line across each notch with her tongue. Breaking out into a smile as the blonde shared her laughter. Her bare chest still pressed into the brunette’s cloak.

“Wait—wait, turn over.” The blonde starts, directing her lover to turn, “I wish to see you.” Cressida offers, her fingers pulling gently at the ties, till Eloise was freed of her confinements. “This.” She demanded pushing the final thread from the other woman’s body and tapping at the birthmark just below her waist. Browned skin no bigger than her thumb. “This is mine.”

Eloise glanced down, the alpine of her skin foreign to her with Cressida’s hands upon it.

“I stand bare before you and you stake claim to measly imperfection.” Eloise laughed, her hands waving lovingly between strangers of Cressida’s hair pushing it back, the blonde lowering to her knees.

Her lips chasing eager kisses with rushed breath. Reaching for any piece of skin available to her. Her teeth bumped along the edge of the brunette's hip, tongue curling across the joining of her ribs.

“There is no part of me that does not worship you.” Cressida declared her eyes flicking up to watch the brunette. Her face suddenly became so much closer as she reached down and grasped the back of her, pulling them each half way.

Their lips are harsh, brazen and lethargic across each other. Cressida’s tongue swirled upon her own as Eloise gasped and shook against her.

“When were you most happy?” Eloise asked between kisses.

“Now.” Cressida grins pecking at the other woman’s

cheek. The brunette fumbled with her own pleasure and she pondered her new question.

“When were you least happy?”

“Now.” The answer came again, thick against her lips.

“What do you love?” Eloise asked again, her lips trailing along the span of Cressida's neck, littering her chest and finally ghosting along her nipple. “Say everything.”

“Let’s see.” The blonde mumbled almost unsure of herself, “grass, fields with horses in them. Swans. I love Swans.”

“What else?” Eloise begged her knees firm against the hard wooden floor.

“Marmalade. I'm addicted. Baths, though not with other people.” The blonde jokes, relishing in the motion of the other woman blushing against her leg. “Shopping.” She continued a shudder as the brunette's tongue licked at the apex of her thigh. A beat of silence “Your handwriting.”

“Cress” She whispered the warm air welcome against Cressida’s heat.

“Christ Eloise, do you not want me?”Before finally the other woman sucked her clit forward. Feverish, febrile and hysterical. Eager to draw out the many sounds of Miss Cowper.

TBC.

[altschmerzes]

chapter ten of wriggle up on dry land (the ted lasso au where everything is the same except for jamie, nelson road’s fifteen year old groundsman’s assistant) is up!

The alarm that had begun to simmer in Ted only gets worse when he gets closer and realizes a few things right in a row: the person on the bench is small, smaller than the average adult, and that’s not just a jacket in Richmond colours, that’s a Richmond staff jacket. “Jamie?” Though he already knew the answer, Ted was so hoping he was wrong. He isn’t. The person’s head rises from where it had been pressed into his knees, which were pulled to his chest with his arms tight around them, and he looks over at Ted. Upon seeing who’d spoken to him, the expression on Jamie’s face goes from a dull tiredness immediately into shock and embarrassment. Ted feels his heart lurch and skip in his chest, his breath catching and a spike of cold going down his spine. Something is wrong, he thinks. Something is wrong. Something is wrong.

read Chapter Ten: Who You Gonna Call? on ao3!!

[weepingfoxfury]

The Groundsman's measured footsteps echoed throughout the courtyard ... his creased and thoughtful brow buried in the folds of his low set weather worn hat ... foot in front of foot in front of foot, slowly but surely bringing him to the decaying tool shed door. His large hands grasped the rusty handle and it reluctantly creaked open. Green paint peeled and scattered as he brushed his hands together. The light struck his quarry and a faint smile crossed his face, skin creasing by his pale blue eyes ... he knew what he was about to do and had no qualms about it ...

[hythlodaeus-mynewoldfriend]

He pulls away, pushing away the purple hair from her eyes, “Siberite, love, I will return to you, and should I still be rejected I promise you that we can run away together. We will live far from here or explore every corner of this world should you so desire. But we will be together once more.” “You promise me, my love?” “Have I ever broken a promise to you before?” She shakes her head, “Then there is no need to worry.”

“Must you go, Jalshir?” Siberite pleads in the moon lit hedge garden, “You do not need to prove yourself to me. I love you.”

The young half auri man smiles, fingertips caressing her cheek, as dark brown hair falls into his equally brown eyes, “I know I don’t have to prove anything to you, Siberite, but I want to offer you more than just love and dreams.” 

“But that’s all I need.”

“Siberite if I am to even think about asking for a future with you I cannot be just a groundsman or footman, I need to make something of myself.”

“And joining the Radiant Host is your solution?”

“Siberite,” he sighs, wiping away a tear that falls down her face, “I must do this. I must become a better man for you.” 

“But I love you as you are.”

He leans down and kisses her, arms wrapping around her tightly, chest aching when he feels how tightly she grabs onto his shirt. Leaving her is the last thing he wants to do, he’d rather have many more years of this secrecy, but her birthright dictates that she’d be made to marry someone that wasn’t him, someone that even if he allowed for their affair to continue Jalshir could never stand to see hold her and kiss her the same way he does in the shadows. It would be like not having her at all. So he must go. He must try to make something of himself, and hope that when he returns he can be someone that her parents will allow to marry. Jalshir can never be a Lord, can never start a business, but he can gain a title, surely they would allow her to marry a well respected member of the Radiant Host in such high standing. And if they don’t he will at least have something to offer her that will make running away together all the easier. 

He pulls away, pushing away the purple hair from her eyes, “Siberite, love, I will return to you, and should I still be rejected I promise you that we can run away together. We will live far from here or explore every corner of this world should you so desire. But we will be together once more.”

“You promise me, my love?”

“Have I ever broken a promise to you before?” She shakes her head, “Then there is no need to worry.”

Siberite grabs his shirt and pulls his lips down to hers. Her arms lock around his neck when his tight hold lifts her ever so slightly from the ground. He can taste her tears as the kiss deepens and it takes all his strength to not give in to temptation of one last time with her. So he savors the softness of her lips and hair, memorizes the pattern of her scales and curve of her body, letting the warmth of her touch store itself away for when the nights get too cold and lonely. Pulling away to look deep into blue-green eyes that look more blue in the pale moonlight, a small smile forming when he sees that she too is taking him all in, committing him to her heart. His pulse starts to race once more as her fingers begin to trace the contours of his muscles and scales, taking the opportunity to remember the way she looks so beautiful in this moment with parted lips that create sounds of laughter he will never forget, and say his name with such tenderness even when they were doing anything but tender.

“I love you, Jalshir, now and forever. I will wait for you.”

“And I will only ever love you, beloved Siberite.”

[lulublack90]

Prompt 25 - Criminal AU

@wolfstarmicrofic April 25, word count 857

Sirius, wrapped in his brand-new wool cloak, sauntered down the street, perusing the wears of the local sellers. It was market day, and the locals were out in their droves. Normally, Sirius wouldn’t deem to mix with the riff-raff, but after the stifling morning of lessons and the lecture from his parents about upholding the family name, he’d needed to escape. To lose himself for a while. 

Out here amongst the lesser mortals, he could pretend he wasn’t the heir to the most prestigious family in the country. Even the royals couldn’t hold a beacon to the power and respect garnered by the House of Black. 

He breathed in the putrid smell of the lower classes and revelled in the freedom. He’d just spotted a shabby-looking pie shop and debated braving the questionable-looking meat when a tall man with a face lashed with scars knocked into his side. 

“Sorry, excuse me,” The man mumbled hurriedly before continuing down the street. 

Now, Sirius was many things, but a fool he was not. He checked where his coin purse had been secure in his pocket, and of course, it was gone. 

“Hey, you! Come back here!” He bellowed down the street, his anger rippling through. The man glanced over his shoulder and took off at a full run, his long legs an advantage over Sirius’s shorter ones, but only for so long. 

Sirius had lived his entire life in a saddle, pushing himself and his horses faster and faster for longer and longer. He was built for endurance. His well-muscled thighs were still pumping as the thief began to tire. 

The thief clearly knew the streets well, but so did Sirius, having come here many times over the years to escape. He followed the man down every twisting, turning alley until the lanky being took a wrong turn and trapped himself in a dead end, his back up against the wall.

Sirius slowed to a long stride and casually leant against the narrow passageway in front of the exhausted man. He extended his arm and raised his brow. The thief sighed, threw the purse to his waiting hand and slumped to the floor, breathing heavily. It was then that Sirius noticed how skinny he was and how ragged his thin clothes were. 

“You do this often, then?” Sirius asked sternly, trying to get a feel for the man. The man looked up, shocked to see Sirius still there watching him. He pulled his thin clothes around him tighter and scowled at the brown puddle against the brickwork. 

“No,” He muttered. “You looked like an easy target.” His eyes snapped up to look straight at Sirius. “Clearly not.” He spat onto the ground. “Why are you still here? Get the Bobbys if you want. I’m in no condition to move now.” 

Sirius watched his chest heave with each laboured breath and sighed. For some godforsaken reason, he couldn’t leave the half-starved vagrant.

“You got someone waiting for you?” He asked. The thief flinched. 

“Yes,” He said, and Sirius knew it for the lie it was. This man had nothing and no one. 

“You good with your hands?” He questioned further. Those warm brown eyes dropped and stared beneath Sirius’s cloak. The man began to crawl forward and was reaching towards Sirius when Sirius realised what was happening. “No, no! That’s not what I meant!” He gently pushed the man’s hand away from the buttons on his trousers. “We need a groundsman to tend to the flowerbeds and whatnot. Keep the grass cut, walls intact, that sort of thing. There’s a small hut and a salary with the job. If you want it, of course.” He’d started babbling, so he stopped himself. The brown eyes darkened. 

“What’s the catch?” He rasped from the floor in front of Sirius. 

“Nothing, no catch. Just don’t tell my parents this is where we met.” Sirius panicked for a second. His parents would have the man killed if they knew where he’d come from.

“You live with your parents?” The man snorted but stopped quickly, catching himself. 

“I’m in a different wing,” Sirius explained. He held his hand out to the crouching man. “Sirius Black, heir to the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black.” The man gawped. Sirius motioned with his hand for the other man to take it. The man hesitated before slowly accepting it. Sirius helped him haul himself to his feet. “And you are?” He prompted when the man didn’t reciprocate. 

“Remus Lupin. I don’t have a fancy title to go with it.” He said blandly. Sirius threw his head back and laughed. 

“Well, Remus,” He said, wiping the tears from his eyes. “The first thing we’re going to do is get a hot meal into you, and then we’ll pick out some new clothes, but the main thing you need, my new friend, is a bath, because and I do mean to be rude here, you smell worse than the Thames.” He softened his words with a smile and a wink before he turned on his heel, Remus following close behind him as they reentered the bustling streets of London.  

[anghraine]

I love Mrs Reynolds and the proud Pemberley groundsman, but my favorite servant character in Austen is always going to be Mansfield Park's Baddeley:

[I]nstantly rising, she was preparing to obey, when Mrs Norris called out, “Stay, stay, Fanny! what are you about? where are you going? don’t be in such a hurry. Depend upon it, it is not you who are wanted; depend upon it, it is me” (looking at the butler); “but you are so very eager to put yourself forward. What should Sir Thomas want you for? It is me, Baddeley, you mean; I am coming this moment. You mean me, Baddeley, I am sure; Sir Thomas wants me, not Miss Price.” But Baddeley was stout. “No, ma’am, it is Miss Price; I am certain of its being Miss Price.” And there was a half-smile with the words, which meant, “I do not think you would answer the purpose at all.”

[elklounge]

In Chris Hackett’s office he has a saucy romance titled The King of My Gardens. “Saucy flower plucking for green-fingered romantics.”

An excerpt from the back can be found in the game files: In this sweltering gothic romance, the beautiful but reclusive Countess Aranesca is swept off her feet by not one but two competing gardeners tending to her world renowned topiary. Will she choose Philipe, the swarthy, mysterious groundsman who is as dangerous with a blade as he is with his charm… or Ronaldo, the dashing but elusive botanist who opens her mind to the magic - and forbidden pleasures - of the world beyond her garden walls.

And Travis also seems to be a romantic. See newest post.

[fortnite-headcanons]

Fortnite Headcanon #646

Budge and Rufus are long time friends, and after neither of them went to collage, they went to work at a local park as groundsman, they often slack off which annoys their boss, Gumbo, who used to be drummer and a table soccer player before becoming the manger, the park works also include Candyman, Bigfoot, Hulk, Gnash and a intern A Goat.

The group would often end up on some nonsensical adventures after a bit of lazy motivation causes a thing to spiral out of control, but Budge and Rufus find a way to fix it somehow, yippie 

[tornadoyoungiron]

Young Iron

In Pursuit of Self - Chapter 36 - The Groundsman's Cottage

Blue Peter gets a surprising companion. Mallard says goodbye.

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