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mcmasonatdalton · 4 years

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you can tell me {mcsnickers}

CHARACTERS: Mason McCarthy and @duvaldomnick

SUMMARY: After baiting for attention with a skimpy photo on the internet, Nick orders Mason to his room thinking he just scheduled just a regular, casual dick appointment and they’re both surprised when based on their conversation, sex isn’t on the menu. {Quick recap on their relationship so far: Nick and Mason were fuck buddies for a long while before Dalton, for the purpose of venting their D/s needs. There is a trusted connection built there and when they are in scenes they talk about belonging to each other because it’s what makes them feel good while they’re in Sub and Dom head spaces with each other, but they haven’t had any kind of conversation like that outside of scene talk. They have never been exclusive, even if they sound like it.} tw because this gets into Mason talking about sexual D/s based abuse

NICK: ((When Mason arrived this morning)) Get your ass in here. On your knees.

MASON: Yes'Sir. Sounds like someone's in trouble.

NICK: Good boy. Well, it is now 5 in the morning, and you've already admitted to baiting me, to sate your needs...Tell me, what could those possibly be at this hour? Tell me Mason, how are you feeling?

MASON: Lucky me, we're both awake, huh?

I need you, Sir. I feel like after all the work I've been doing, I want it to be time for me. I want you. I want your attention. I want you to touch me. I want to be here.

NICK: Good boy, Bunny. You answered perfectly. I'll give you what you want, and what you need. You have been working so hard, haven't you? You're right, you deserve a break. Good thing it's Saturday morning, hmm? Tell you what, Mason. All those plans you had for this weekend. Cancel them. Then, hands in front of you, wrists together.

MASON: Yes, Sir. May I turn my phone of or hand it to you for after that for the weekend? Because I know I'll get texts from people, telling me I shouldn't cancel. I know I can and I trust you, I want to be here, but I don't want.. that. Done.

NICK: Good boy, Bunny. I know it's hard for you not to argue with me on this. I see you, trusting me. I've got you. Yes, I'll take your phone, until I release you. I'll put it on silent, but I won't turn it off in case of an emergency. I won't let anything else touch you. There we go. I'm going to bind your wrists. I'll have you kneel, head bowed, for two minutes while you settle that anxiety over the texts you just sent. After that, I'll give you your rules for the weekend. Let me know when you're ready, and if you need more than two minutes.

MASON: You know me so well, Sir.... I hope you don't wonder why I'd come to you. Why I need you. I'll be quiet now, Sir.

NICK: Of course I do, Mase. I do pay attention to things, when I'm inclined to do so. Shhhhhhh. I'm here, babe. Right here. Take all you need, I've got plenty to give. You don't have to be quiet, Bunny. I don't like how that sounded. Where are you?

MASON: I know you do. I know you. I pay attention too. I'm sorry. I think it's just the difference between having someone to tell me at all times whether I was doing well or not and vividly instructing me on how to fix it if I wasn't doing well enough to being so independent. I'm feeling very unsteady.. just.. I don't know.. unsure.

NICK: I can bet you do, but that's a conversation for another day. I can't imagine how hard that must be, Bunny. I know you're struggling. But it's okay, there's nothing wrong with that. You're doing a whole new thing, one I'm proud of you for. And you're doing it so well. But, part of my job is making sure I'm honest with you. And while we're not....Another responsibility I take very seriously is the one that says a Dominant involved in any way with a Submissive is partially responsible for them and their mental state. Unless you've been spending time with anyone else, recently, that's me. I see you, working your ass off, and I have to wonder when you find the time to sleep, eat, or even breathe. Thank you for sharing with me, Bunny. Thank you for communicating. We'll fix this, I'll fix this. If you feel unsteady, Mase, hold onto me. Trust me to carry you, to not let you fall. Because I will carry you, and I won't let you fall. Breathe for me. Anything else you need to say before I give your rules?

MASON: Sir... I appreciate you so much. I'm not spending time with anyone else, no. A few people showed interest in me sexually when I first showed up but they all disappeared when I didn't have the time to hand them my ass immediately. I know.. you're not the relationship type and I'm too busy to really, honestly commit myself to someone else but I want you to know that I'm not out with other people. And it doesn't matter if you are. I know you. I know you appreciate me. I don't... really have time. You're right. I've never had time but now I've added carving out a spot for myself here to everything. It is a lot. But I'm like, totes capable. You call me Bunny for a reason, Sir. I trust you. I know you will, I am leaning on you. I know you will carry me and keep me safe. I'm okay. I'm ready to hear my rules, Sir.

NICK: There's my good boy; I'm proud of you, Mase. Those were all big admissions, and I see that. I won't let any of it go overlooked. They did, did they? That's perfectly fine, it's only because they don't know you like I do. They don't know how special you are. What a good boy you are. We understand each other, and our positions. Though, I won't lie and say I don't like knowing that. In a way. What I'm hearing you say, Mase, is that you're struggling to maintain a healthy schedule for yourself, now that you feel you don't have anyone to give you that added direction. And that's alright, too. That doesn't make you any less capable, or any less perfect. I see that, and I'll remind you of that. But what I won't have, Mason, is you panicking about telling me you might need some help, and making up for that by forcing yourself to remind me, and your own self, that you can handle it. You came to me for a reason, Bunny. Good, keep leaning. Let it all out, let it all go. I've got you. Very good. Alright. Stand up, and come sit in my lap. I want to hold you while we go over these. Rule 1 you already know- no plans outside of me, us, and this suite. No phone. No outside influences. No distractions. The world does not exist beyond these walls, unless and until I say otherwise. Rule 2. You will give yourself over to me, completely- as far as you're comfortable with. This will be a TPE weekend. Rule 3. Your hands will remain bound most of the time. The binding is loose, so you're able to move around comfortably when you need. I will remove it in certain instances as well. This means I will feed you, dress you, and bathe you. This also means you'll need to make certain you're being as vocal as possible about your feelings and needs. I'll need to know every detail, to keep you as safe and well taken care of as possible. Can you these things for me, Bunny?

MASON:Always your good boy, Sir. Thank you. You're right, I did come to you for a reason. I know you. I knew what you would say. I'll do as you say, Sir. I always do. Yes, Sir. I think your lap might be my favorite place, do you know that? Yes, yes, and yes. Sir. I can do all of that. I like that too. Thank you. I feel better already, I know that everything will be good. We're chill. This is good. I'm good. You're good. You're so sweet to me, Nick...

NICK: Say that again, Bunny. Say it again for me. Say it until you remember it. Until it comes as easily as my name rolling off your tongue. You are my good boy. No need to thank me. Alright. So, next time, what are we going to do as soon as we start feeling this way? You always do. Is it? Good boy. If anything else comes up, I'll let you know. Good, I'd hoped you would. It will be. I'll take care of you, my boy. Shhh. This isn't about me, babe. Now, I want you to tell me what time you went to bed last night, and what time you woke up this morning. I also want to know everything you've done today, and I want to know what you've eaten. Stay here, in my arms, while you tell me. I'm not judging, but I need to know what to focus on with you right now. You're safe, Bunny. I'm listening.

MASON: Always your good boy, Sir. You have... no idea how good that sounds to me. I could say next time I'll post another skimpy pic at 5am, but I think you want me to learn a better way to get what I want and need from you. I could message you instead, Sir. Just.. tell you. I trust you. I still want you to know that I appreciate you, that I see you. Babe. I went to bed at 5:30am after joining Hunter at the pool for laps and I was up for cheerleading practice at 7am. I laid down a few times during the day, but not to sleep, I had other things to do. I drank a Monster before and after practice, then hit the gym for my own workout and run, Sir. I left campus for a little while to check in with Madison and my parents, and there's a guy- one of my parent's friends- that needed a few things from me. I wasn't done with all of that until the pm hours, and I had some granola on yogurt with Madison and she sent me off with some protein bars. I had a photoshoot and interview about the volunteer work I'm doing here at Dalton and then I came back on campus. I helped the janitors out a little bit-- I walked by and one of them was having trouble on his own, Sir. I got stopped a few times on my way back to my place. Not that anyone stopped me, but I stopped myself because people needed help in little ways like that. Then it was time for cheer again, so I ate one of the protein bars and led the team, followed by the gym again. I had paperwork to do to get myself settled here with administration and before I knew it, it was time to head out for that swim and when I got back to my place... well, here we are. You know the rest.

NICK: Yeah? Well, we can talk about that just a little later on. I'll remember it, and I'll bring it back up. You're exactly right, I do want you to know you don't have to degrade yourself like that to catch my attention. Whether I act it or not, you already have it. There we go. Message me, I'll make sure you're taken care of. Thank you, Mase. You're sweet, babe. Thank you for being honest with me, Bunny. So, let's walk through this a little more. I'm still here, I'm still listening, and I've still got you. You got an hour and a half of sleep last night, is what I'm hearing. Why? How long were your practices? How did your visit home go? I don't want to pry, but it's important for me to know exactly what type of physical exertion you've had today. Are you comfortable telling me what you did for your parents' friend? Did you drink any water today at all? You're so very helpful, Mase. You're a beautiful person. Your want to help is incredible, but I'm going to work with you on better recognizing when you have that kind of energy to give others, okay? How long were you in the gym? How many miles did you run? How many laps did you swim?

MASON: Yes, Sir. I know you will, you're good at that; remembering. You.. Sir.. I'll keep that in mind. I know you will, you always have. You know.. I don't let anyone else call me that... Yes, Sir. An hour and a half was all of the time I had to spare. I had so much to do yesterday that I didn't make it back until about 5am, and Hunter had talked about being out in the pool around that time and had asked/offered for me to join him; more or less. I don't do it every morning, but sometimes. Morning practice is more of a workout, we go for two hours. Evening practice is more like a rehearsal. We warm up and then work on routines. That went for three hours today. Going home went well, actually. My parents are pleased with the addition of Dalton to my schedule. Madison is still not happy that I moved out, but I'm sure I'll break through to her. She was pissy because she knew I was busy with that Dom-- not that she knew who it was, but she knew I left home to go there. Don't worry about prying, Sir. My answers are yours, that's part of the point here. He needed some help getting his house together while his friends were over, he just wanted to show off. Things got kind of physical too. I had water, yeah. I carry a bottle with me. Yes, Sir. I trust you. Of course. I spent an hour and a half in the gym, and I ran two miles with the team. Hunter is a boss, like... I don't know if you've noticed but damn. We raced on five laps a few times.

NICK: Good boy. Hold onto that for me, too. I mean it, Mase. I don't ever want you thinking that you need to offer someone ass in an attempt to get them to care about you. You don't? Good boy, thank you for being honest with me. I'm sorry that your sister is unhappy. But, I don't want you to let that hinder your progress. You're doing just fine, Mase. Thank you for saying that, Bunny. Good boy. Why haven't you told your sister who he is? Interesting. Things got physical? While his friends were there? Talk to me, Bunny. A refillable bottle? Good boy, keep trusting me. Oh, my busy bee. How are you feeling, Mase?

MASON: I will, Sir. Nick. You.. I.. I don't, no. That's for you. It's special to me. Yes, Sir. Of course. You need my honesty, I totes get it. I'm sorry too, but it's okay. She'll get over it. She will. She's just worried about me doing my best. I haven't told her because it would be weird, I think. He's a friend of our parents so like... he's supes old. To me, at least. ...Yeah. A refillable bottle, yes. I will, of course. I always trust you. Yours. I'm tired, but awake. I'm not sure if I've done enough, I had some things left to do. But at the same time, you've been calling me good and I could sit here all night. I feel better than I did before I got here, Sir. Because of you.

NICK: Mine. I like that. Good boy, you always understand. You're a smart boy, too. That's a good way to look at it. Such a kind perspective, Mase. Have you told anyone other than me, Bunny? Can we talk a little more about that, babe? Are you comfortable with that? Very good, I'm proud of you for making sure you're drinking water. I see that, you know. You, calling yourself mine. I'm not mad. You've done more than enough today, Mason. That's final. The rest can wait. Look at me, Bunny. Focus on my eyes. Give me your hand. The world will not stop turning if you take a break, if you lighten your load. I've called you good because you are good- so, so fucking good. We can do that, if you want to. I'll hold you all day, no matter what. Good, you'll feel even better than this before the day is over. I've got you Mason. I'm right here.

MASON: And you didn't even have to ask for it. Thank you, I try to. I'm glad you think so. No, I haven't. We can, yeah. There isn't really much I'd ever say no to you for. I'm comfortable with you. Mmmm.

Thank you. Yeah? What of it? Not mad is good. Yes, Sir. I trust you on that. And I won't be doing anything except what you tell me to do until Monday. Gladly. Yes, Sir. I see you, I feel you. I.. it's hard for me, but I trust you. I don't want to lose everything I've worked so hard for or disappoint anyone. Thank you, Sir. You're so sweet, I'll get spoiled you know. Maybe I already am. You're perfect. Thank you.

NICK: I didn't. I know that, you make this so easy. You haven't for the same reason? Good to know, but I'm still going to ask. Your comfort is my priority, Bunny. So, let's talk about it. What do you mean when you say things got physical? Nothing of it, it's just not something....I hear, every day. I'll make sure you won't be. Very good. I know it's hard for you, babe. But when things are hard, that only means you're growing. It isn't always pretty or easy, but it's needed. And I'm right here, to walk you through it. What makes you think that could ever possibly be true? What's got you anxious about something like that happening? Good, maybe I want you spoiled. Not nearly. Me? Not even close Bunny. You know that better than anyone. Don't thank me for that.

MASON: Easy is good. Mostly, yeah. He asked me not to talk to people about him. You're not people though, you're Nick. Like I mentioned before, I think he just wanted to show off. He tested me, making it harder for me to do the cleaning. ..I don't want to tell you that he came but I don't want to keep that from you either, Sir. We didn't fuck though. Do you like it? Do you want to hear it every day? I know you will, Sir. This is what I mean by perfect, you know just what to say to me. To do for me. You know me. You get me. Why wouldn't it be true? There are plenty of other people that would love to take my place. Even just my spot at Dalton is hotter than I thought. I don't know, I just have high expectations of myself and sometimes I get really anxious. Just maybe?

That wasn't your fault.

NICK: With you? It is. He did? That's...Interesting. You're right Bunny. You can tell me anything. In front of his friends, huh? And let me guess- they were all Dominants, too? It's okay, Mase. You can tell me anything, remember? We can talk about that later, babe. Let's keep the focus on you right now, hmmm? You're such a gorgeous focal point. It's basic, Mason. Being a decent human being doesn't deserve to be called perfection. You matter. You matter to the world, and you matter to me. Because, no matter how many hours you work a day, Mase, there will never be anything close to a replacement for you. You are incredibly utterly unique, in every sense of the word. You are a force to be reckoned with, and no one else is even close to capable of doing what you do. What do you mean by that, Mase? I know you do, I see you. That's something I want to work on, too. When you're ready. I don't want you to be anxious around me. Consider this your safe space, my boy. What, did you want to hear definitely? It's the truth. You give me too much credit, Bunny. But I promise...Nothing like that will ever happen again.

MASON: It is. You're right, yeah. I know I can, which is why I do. Stubborn. Yes, Sir. Nick...

NICK: ...How long has this been going on, Mason. Good. Keep it up. I am, yes. Yes, Mase? Use your pretty words, baby.

MASON: I've been helping him out for a couple of years, but it's been about a year since it first started to get like this. You make me feel a lot of things, Sir. If I use my pretty words I'm liable to make a fool out of myself.

NICK: Thank you for sharing with me, Bunny. You're a good boy, did you know? I need to make sure you know that. You couldn't possibly. I want to hear it all, Mase. Now, I want you to wrap those gorgeous legs around my waist. I'm going to carry you to the bedroom, and I'm going to hold you until food arrives. I'll strip you, too.

MASON: Of course, Sir. You don't have to thank me. I want to be honest with you. I'm glad you think so. Yes, Sir. Legs wrapped. Gladly. This sounds exciting, I can't wait.

NICK: I do, Mason. I know that was big. I'm so proud of you, babe. Good boy. I want you excited, in the best ways. Just relax, let someone take care of you for once. Here we go. I'll undo those bindings once I lay you down. While I'm stripping you, I'll kiss every inch of your beautiful body.

MASON: You make me feel proud too, Sir. My big, strong hero. I'll let you take care of me. That sounds nice. For me and for you too; you know what they say about cheerleaders. You know how addicted I am to your lips and your kisses. I even stole one without an order, which I'm just now realizing. I just wanted it really badly.

#mason mccarthy rp #nick duval rp #glee rp #glee ds rp #glee smut rp #f2f: all #f2f: nick duval

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mascnsmccarthy · 5 years

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in the eye of the hurricane | self

WHO: Mason McCarthy, various family members. Feat. @snixxem and the Berry Men.

WHERE: McCarthy residence, Berry residence

WHEN: Thanksgiving Day, a few days post-thanksgiving

SUMMARY: thanksgiving with mason’s family -- his mother’s side. tainted by mourning, he then continues on a tradition with rachel’s fathers.

It was official. Mason hated the holidays.

Sure, there were a few good moments; his grandmother arriving the night before Thanksgiving with presents in tow from the past two birthdays that she just so happened to miss, but it seemed that his mother’s mother was stuck in the past -- instead of say, something he could use for his job, in her wake was a baton that he could’ve used very well back when he donned the Cheerios uniform. Madison always received her usual, but well -- creative arts can last a lifetime. She can use those tools anyday -- he didn’t have much usage for a baton or a new curling iron.

Especially since... well.

His grandmother wasn’t happy when he walked through the door the morning of Thanksgiving with his freshly-growing in buzz-cut. He wasn’t the last to arrive, nor was he the first; his cousins littering the household and making it seem full again. And despite his desperate attempts, it hadn’t felt full since his father’s fiasco. Even after they moved, it never felt full.

Various family members asked him how things were going, and they tried so hard to check up on him, but he brushed them off. He didn’t want to talk about it. He didn’t want to talk about anything. Not to his family, at least. Maybe to Madison, but well -- Madison was never her friend. He hadn’t talked to Madison properly in weeks, anyways. A few more hours ( read: days ) wouldn’t do any damage.

His aunt was discussing whatever high-end job his uncle had gotten within the past few years, and how they were doing a lot better since moving to Washington D.C. A part of him ached; he only wished his family was doing that well. With the uprising of tablets and e-books, it was only a matter of time before the bookstore closed it’s doors for good. It was still sometimes a shock to him that his mother could afford the house she lived in, still keeping everything she wanted to keep and refusing to take out a mortgage. And yet, here his family was: basking in the awe of smartphones and six-figure salaries.

It made him sick to his stomach.

But maybe that was the third glass of wine in the past hour talking.

It was always his mother’s side that attended Thanksgiving, and most other holidays; never his father’s side. They didn’t talk to or about his father, or whatever family still felt like talking to them on that side. It was always at his mother’s house, because according to his grandmother: “It’s the biggest, and the closest. We can all fit like the happy family we are.”

Happy.

Bullshit.

Mason hadn’t been happy in a while.

But yet, he put on the smiling facade he was supposed to don come the holiday season, and sat at the kitchen island next to his mother while silently listening in on the conversation. He could hear his uncle and his grandfather in the living room, yelling at the television -- he may have been a Cheerleader, but football wasn’t his thing. He was more of a watcher of the players, not the actual game itself. But ever time he brought that up, well --

“Some things are better left unsaid, Mason.”

Sometimes he really, really disliked his grandmother.

He was hoping this year would be different. Hoped that maybe, just maybe, his family would be off his back. That his grandmother wouldn’t be pulling at the back of his collar, begging him to find something suitable for a wife and family, as if there wasn’t even the chance that Mason could find a husband. That his aunt wouldn’t be rubbing it in his face how Johnathan, the cousin only a few months younger than Mason and Madison, was two months away from a top-of-the-line promotion at a law firm in Virginia. That maybe Devin, the sixteen year old brother of Johnathan wouldn’t sneak off to the park down the street only to come home twenty minutes before dinner smelling like pot. That maybe his grandfather wouldn’t drink himself stupid, to the point where he felt no problem throwing every hateful slur Mason’s way because he decided to wear a dress to his aunt’s wedding.

He was only thirteen. He didn’t see it as a bad thing. He just wanted to look pretty like his mom.

Mason could hear his cousins upstairs in the guest room -- if one could even call it that. It had been renovated so many times, Mason lost count. Once, it was a study. Another, a small library to hold the books that couldn’t go in the bookstore. One time his mother even tried to take up crafting and turned it into a walking art store. Eventually it was settled upon storage, so who knows what palace of junk the younger kids got themselves into.

Damn his aunt and her six freaking kids.

It was on his fifth glass as he helped his mother fluff the stuffing that Mason decided he really, really hated the holidays.

But, then again...

Rachel always loved them.

Rachel loved coming over in the morning of Thanksgiving, helping his mother with the vegetables because she refused to touch the meat. They’d engage in conversation about whatever was going on at school; be it the musical, the play, student council -- whatever Rachel wanted to talk about, his mother would listen, and Mason would watch on in awe. He never got to tell her, but Mason’s mother damn near considered Rachel family -- she was at the house often enough.

If anyone asked him shortly after Mason met her, he’d say that one day, she would be a part of the family.

But that was saved for his journals.

Now, instead of watching in awe while Rachel helped prep his family meal before returning to her own, he watched on as his mother did it alone. He helped where he could, but the women in his family were always the better cooks.

His grandmother’s shrill of a laugh echoed from a joke his aunt told.

The shout of his grandfather still boomed from the living room.

The pitter-patter of feet upstairs still caused the old wood to creak.

But Mason?

He was quiet.

Even when he was asked to give thanks at the table, and to set a prayer amongst their family, he was silent. He passed the prayer on to fucking Johnathan, the family’s apparent pride in joy. And while he sat, doing more sipping at his wine and picking at his food at 2 PM instead of actually eating, he started filling with...

Anger. Frustration. Determination.

Sadness.

But with the sixth glass, the emotions started to fade away into a comforting fuzziness. Each sip took him further and further down that rabbit hole, taking him farther and farther away from the hurt and pain in remembering that Rachel Berry wasn’t there to rescue him from his uncle’s antics. That Rachel wasn’t there to message while his aunt rambled on. That Rachel wasn’t there to compliment his mother’s cooking.

That Rachel wasn’t there.

She wasn’t there.

And she wouldn’t be again.

.....

It was only after his family retreated to their AirBNB’s and Mason was alone in his room that night, surrounded by photos and memories of Rachel being in the same bed as him that he let himself cry for the first time.

------------------------------------------

It was the next day after Mason nursed his almost non-existent hangover that he decided to crawl out of bed. Even though it was the holidays, he was still a teacher, he still had an assessment plan to prep, still had midterm papers on various Shakespearean plays to grade; still had a life to live despite the fact that it felt like he was only going through the motions.

His phone vibrated on the bedside table; the one that held various photo frames lined with sharpie-boarders and sequins haphazardly glued to the edges.

Santana. Again.

He stopped answering after the third call; stopped replying after the fifteenth text message. She had been trying to get a hold of him all break; whether to make plans, or to check up on him. But he didn’t want to be checked up on. He didn’t want to make plans with people he usually saw on the daily. He didn’t want to get out of bed that morning.

What he wanted he couldn’t have. Never again.

But, then again...

He did have something he could have. Something to hold onto, something to bring some sort of happiness to the dwindling cold that he considered himself to be lately. Something to be the shining star in his world of darkness.

Literally.

The Berry’s invited him over for tea and leftover pie.

He knew it was a casual setting. That he shouldn’t be dressing up in a nice shirt and slacks; that he should go just as he is. But Mason didn’t know casual -- not anymore. Not when five out of seven days a week he was wearing business casual. He used to have a great sense of style, but lately... lately he didn’t feel himself. Like a part of him had been missing.

The door to the Berry residence alone felt like an old friend. The door that he once felt was bigger than the world now felt small; like he could engulf it whole if he outstretched his arms. That suffocating feeling was in the back of his throat, threatening to close in on him as he stepped over the threshold. But there they were, both men, dressed nice and classy -- welcoming him in with open arms as if nothing had changed. They welcomed him into their home without a second thought, without a word out of place -- as if he were home.

Rachel’s house always did feel like a second home to him.

“How are you holding up?” Hiram asked, passing Mason a tea cup. It was almost a tradition in the Berry household; a friendly tea following a big holiday. It’s where Mason found himself the morning of New Year’s Eve most years in high school and shortly after, before he’d doll himself up and head out to parties.

“I’m... coping.” Liar. He wasn’t. But he wouldn’t tell Hiram that. He wouldn’t tell Leroy that. He wouldn’t tell either of them that because out of the three of them, Mason was the one who was supposed to keep his shit together. Mason was the one who needed to be strong. Mason was the one who had to keep his head on straight while they were the ones allowed to mourn.

“We haven’t really heard from you since the memorial.” Leroy prompted; Mason let out a sigh.

“I’ve been... Busy. Work, the musical.” Distracting myself from thinking.

“I hope you’re not working too hard.”

Mason gave Leory a gentle smile, “I’m doing whatever I can to make her proud.”

And he held true to that statement. He was doing whatever he could to make Rachel proud -- both in public, and behind the public eye. Continuing what they started; bringing chaos amongst them all in Castleport.

But chaos could wait for another day.

After tea, the Berry men left Mason to his own devices as he wandered the home he had frequented so often. Where his own father was absent, both men stepped in -- he hoped that his own mother was something similar to Rachel. While they occupied themselves in the kitchen, Mason led himself upstairs to the room still shrouded in yellow; still glowing that vibrant color even in what he described as a dark time.

He missed her. He missed her more than he could ever imagine and more than any amount of alcohol could potentially numb. Because no matter how hard he tried, no matter how many bottles he drowned himself in, there was no escaping the sound of her voice, or the look on her face the last time he saw her.

By the end of the afternoon he had curled himself atop her still-made bed, plastic-framed photograph of the two of them in hand, asleep. There were tear streaks upon his cheeks when Hiram found him that afternoon.

Yeah, Holidays really, really, fucking sucked.

#( self. ⇾ p. )#( p. ⇾ all. )#p. 003 #p. iteoah #cporttask #cporttask11

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maddiemccarthy · 5 years

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WHO: Madison and her mother, with mentions of Ben & Lexi ( @benpucker )

WHAT: A confrontation roughly 27 years in the making

WHEN: Sunday, 1/12, late morning

WHERE: Madison’s apartment

WARNINGS: none, just angst from bad parenting

Eleven days. In the past eleven days Madison’s entire world had been rearranged. Bringing a new life into the world, Ben saying he loved her, and saying it back to him, learning how to care for him best, Ben going back to work, Lexi spending the night, Puck “breaking up” with her, Ben bringing up living together - like actually living together - on more than one occasion, an influx of the entire town seemingly always at her front door. It was arguably the most stressful week and a half of her life. But, minus the Puck of it all, also probably one of the happiest.

Now late on Sunday morning, breakfast had, and Disney movie in place, Lexi was settled on the couch holding Gabe and more focused on him than the movie, Madison and Ben sitting down from her. Madison had her eyes half open, more than happy to relax with the peace that was falling over the apartment. It could last five minutes. It could last an hour. She wasn’t questioning it.

But a knock on the door soon disturbed the stillness. Despite the ever presence of guests, they’d all been good about asking permission before showing up. She glanced at her phone for missed messages, none. Glanced at Ben to see if he’d forgotten to mention someone, he shrugged and shook his head. The knock came again, louder this time and enough to make Gabe stir and whine in his sister’s hold. “Help her with him and I’ll get it?” she asked Ben, pushing off the couch and making her way to the door. A third knock had her exasperated. “I’m coming,” she called, “can you just be pati--”

Madison’s words were unfinished as she saw who was on the other side of the door. Mouth agape and probably not breathing she stared at her mother on her doormat, looking more fit for a country club tea than the still in PJs lounging that was going on there. “Don’t even have a hello for your mom?” she asked, “though I suppose you’ve forgotten how to say a lot of things to me in the past few months.”

“Hi, Mom,” Madison finally managed out, glancing back at Ben who looked as confused as she felt. “What are you doing here? You haven’t made it to Doveport since parents’ weekend freshman year.”

“Well it seemed my invite to the baby shower and birth of my grandson got lost in the mail, so I figured I’d come see him before I miss the first birthday party invite and his high school graduation,” Elizabeth’s face was overall emotionless, stating everything matter-of-factly. She looked past Madison into the apartment, seeing Ben and Lexi, and then met her daughter’s eyes again. “Though it seems there may have been other announcements I missed as well.”

Madison’s eyes closed, and she took a deep breath before stepping aside and inviting the woman in, directing her to the kitchen table before requesting that she wait there. Once the door was closed behind them, she met Ben’s eyes with a face that could only say what the fuck?? and hurried over to him. There was a litany of questions between them. “What is she doing here? Who told her about Gabe? What do we do? How long is she gonna be here? Is she mad? Does she seem mad?” She tried to keep her voice hushed, Ben’s voice hushed. The space was small, there was no keeping secrets from a woman who’s eyes she could feel in the back of her neck. “Can you just take Lexi out? It’s warmer today. You can take Pepper and go for a walk to the playground?” she suggested. She looked at her son for a moment, debating whether to ask Ben to take him as well. But then there was dressing and prepping and making sure the diaper bag was ready and the stoller and… two kids plus the dog was a lot to spring on him at once. So she took Gabe into her arms, resting a calming hand on him as he seemed unsettled in the commotion, and kissed Ben’s cheek. “Please?”

Once he’d agreed and set on getting Lexi ready to go, even to the quiet complaints of “but I wanna stay with Gabe!” on her part, Madison took the baby and sat at the table, opposite her mother and asked again. “What are you doing here, mom?”

“You already asked that, Maddie,” Elizabeth pointed out, her focus clearly on the infant instead of her daughter. “You told me I have a grandson via what I can only imagine was a mass text, which, judging by your reaction of me knowing, I wasn’t even meant to be on the receiving list. If I would have called, you would have told me not to come. If I’d have invited you up you would have said you were too busy, because you’re always too busy.”

Madison shook her head. A baby in her arms meant she had to stay calm. Hysteric crying sounded like a much better idea. Telling her mom off for all she could remember of eighteen years of her never showing up. Of her being too busy. She heard Ben shuffling towards the door and gave him a wave. “I’ll text you okay?” she said in his direction, and watched them until the door was closed once more.

“And a granddaughter too?” Elizabeth started up again. “That little girl is, what? Four? Five years old? In five years you didn’t think I should know that?”

“Lexi isn’t mine, mom,” Madison corrected quickly. “She’s Ben’s daughter with another woman, he has her every other weekend so she’s here now. Ben… that’s my boyfriend. Gabe, Gabriel’s dad.”

“That’s a lot of development since ‘nothing much going on here’ that you told me on your birthday. Or the ‘just a low-key morning here, Mason and I are watching movies in our PJs’ on Christmas morning.

“In fairness, that is what I did on Christmas. Alex was here, too,” she retorted.

“Madison, look, I’m not naive. I know you and I aren’t the mother-daughter best friend type. I’m not your confidant. You haven’t come to me for help since… I couldn’t even remember the last time. Probably to remind me of one of the bills due when you were living on campus. But you just had a child,” her mother rambled on, gesturing to the bundle in her daughter’s arms. “You had a beautiful baby boy with man you’ve never so much as mentioned to me, and you don’t think that warranted a phone call?”

“I can’t be let down by you anymore,” Madison finally told her. “You came to one. ONE school function in four years I was in college. And you stayed for half of it, because you were busy and needed to get home. You had a lawyer’s retreat the weekend of my college graduation. How many games did you come to when I was cheering in high school? How many competitions? Did you come to plays? Awards Days? And it was the same for Mason too. It wasn’t that you favored him to me, though maybe you do, who knows? It was that you favored basically anything in the entire world to both of us. I had to look out in every crowd and not find you. And every time it stung, but stung a little less. Until finally I stopped looking. And then I stopped telling you. Because you weren’t going to be there anyway. Maybe the birth of your grandson would have warranted attention my high school production of Shrek the musical didn’t, but I couldn’t fathom,” she took a breath, sniffing back tears that pricked the corners of her eyes. “I couldn’t stand the idea of the literal most important thing I’ve ever done in my whole life not being not enough for you to spare your time.”

Elizabeth had sat stunned into silence as her daughter calmly lit into her. She may have known she was never in the running for mother of the year, but the level of hurt in her daughter’s voice and written all over her face was something she’d not been aware of. “I thought you understood with your dad and I’s workload that--”

“Work comes first. Work always comes first,” Madison stated, not letting her make up excuses anymore. The hurt wouldn’t just be explained away this time. “You know, it made a little sense when I started working full time, that sometimes you can’t get out of things. And maybe my little flower shop isn’t as demanding as being a big city attorney, but when something matters enough to you, you can make it work. Maybe it’s not perfect, and maybe you have to compromise, but you can make it work. But that takes an amount of trying that you never did.”

Madison paused, waiting for an argument, for a but I…, but it wasn’t coming. “You can meet your grandson. And you can send him presents and I’ll send you pictures and whatever else you want. But you don’t get to just show up again. Not unless you’re also gonna show up when it matters, when he needs you. I’m not going to let you disappoint another McCarthy child.” She raised an eyebrow at the woman, waiting for an acknowledgement of understanding. When the other woman nodded, Madison’s face changed, night and day to rainbows and sunshine as she focused on Gabe, cooing at him and asking if he wanted to meet Grandma Elizabeth all while standing to place the baby in her arms. When he settled in, no real fussing, just quiet squirming to find his comfy spot again, Madison excused herself.

The click of the bedroom door closing echoed loudly in her ear. She finally noticed the feeling of her heart pounding in her chest as the tears fell down her cheeks. She’d never dreamt of laying out every letdown her mother had caused, never once thought the opportunity would be had. Closing off that portion of her life had been easier. So Madison sat on the edge of her bed, pillow clutched to her, and cried as the hurt washed over her anew.

It couldn’t have been more than a couple minutes, but it felt like forever when she finally heard the distinct sound of Gabriel’s crying, followed quiet shushings from her mom. Madison took a few calming breaths, wiped her face off and sniffed back the last of her tears. She glanced in her mirror before heading out, there would be no hiding her state. So instead she went out with her head held high and greeted her baby with a smile and bloodshot eyes. Her mom started to speak and she quieted her with a shake of her head, taking her son and trying to quiet him herself. “I think somebody’s hungry, yes I do,” she sing-songed to him. “I think you can go,” was all she said to her mom. “You can call me if you figure out how to be a grandparent, or maybe just a parent, that can be counted on.”

Madison made her way to the door then, pulling it open and looking pointedly between it and the woman at her table. After a long moment of awkward silence, broken only by the sound of Gabe’s fussing, Elizabeth stood, tucked her purse over her shoulder and headed out. “I love you, little boy,” she said, stopping briefly in the doorway to say goodbye, then looked Madison in the eye. “And I love you too, no matter what you might think of me.” With that, she offered a weak smile and passed by, heading for the building’s exit.

#askmepara #para: all #para: self #ft. elizabeth mccarthy

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marissafitzgerald · 6 years

Conversation

TEXT MESSAGE ✉️SAM 💖

MARISSA: Do you think I'm boring?

MARISSA: Like, I know you're my friend and you don't find me boring but if you were watching me in a movie, from like Bella Swan to Lara Croft, where do you think I rank?

MARISSA: Also, weirdest thing happened today. Mason McCarthy invited me to a party this weekend.

#t: sam

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actuallymason-blog · 6 years

Text

hard times | mclopez | 7/10

WHO: Mason McCarthy & Santana Lopez ( @snixxactually ) WHAT: The breakfast of champions now including life updates and gossip. WHERE: The Bluebell Café. WHEN: Tuesday morning, 7/10. WARNINGS: Possible discussion of assault? TBA.

Mason yawned as he slid off his motorcycle; he was half a block away from the Bluebell cafe, and really the drive should have woken him up more than it had, but he was still sleepy - he’d gone to bed a few too few hours ago and would, in all honesty, choose to be back in bed if he could, but.

But Santana was having issues that were apparently too involved for a text message or a call, and Mason wanted to know - not just because he needed to know things, but because he was worried about her. From what he’d been able to parse, she was really going through something, and Santana had always struck him as someone who things went through, instead of the other way around.

He stored his helmet and pocketed his keys, ran a hand through his hair and checked it in the glass of the nearest building, and then made his way inside the cafe and let the hostess lead him to a cozy booth just big enough for two. He accepted the menus with a quiet thank you and set one aside for Santana and scanned the other - as sleepy as he was, the quiet rumble of his stomach reminded him that he was never too tired to eat.

#f2f: all #f2f: santana #santana: all #f2f: hard times

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merrickhq · 3 months

Text

📲 freddie & mason

freddie: i am probably the last person you want to hear from, but are you okay? that post was wild. maybe i shouldn't have posted us? freddie: sorry. @masespace

#( interaction: text messages )#( talking to: mason mccarthy )#( text messages: mason mccarthy )#( timeline: week seven )

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smythehq · 4 months

Text

📲 sebastian x mason

sebastian: if anyone asks we're dating. sebastian: sick of these cheerios trying to get with me. half of them are uggos. i actually didn't join the team to get laid, shocking i know. @masespace

#( interaction: text messages )#( text messages: mason mccarthy )#( talking to: mason mccarthy )#( timeline: week two )

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kramlabs · 3 years

Text

“The confession of General Cornwallis to General Washington at Yorktown has been well hidden by historians. History books and text books have taught for years that when Cornwallis surrendered his army to General Washington that American independence came, and we lived happily ever after until the tribulations of the twentieth century. Jonathan Williams recorded in his LEGIONS OF SATAN, 1781, that Cornwallis revealed to Washington that "a holy war will now begin on America, and when it is ended America will be supposedly the citadel of freedom, but her millions will unknowingly be loyal subjects to the Crown." Cornwallis went on to explain what would seem to be a self contradiction: "Your churches will be used to teach the Jew's religion and in less than two hundred years the whole nation will be working for divine world government. That government that they believe to be divine will be the British Empire. All religions will be permeated with Judaism without even being noticed by the masses, and they will all be under the invisible all-seeing eye of the Grand Architect of Freemasonry." And indeed George Washington himself was a Mason, and he gave back through a false religion what he had won with his army. Cornwallis well knew that his military defeat was only the beginning of world catastrophe that would be universal and that unrest would continue until mind control could be accomplished through a false religion. What he predicted has come to pass. A brief sketch of American religious history and we have seen Masonry infused into every church in America with their veiled Phallic religion. Darby and the Plymouth Brethren brought a Jewish Christianity to America. Masons Rutherford and Russell started Jehovah Witnesses' Judaism which is now worldwide with their message of the divine kingdom. Mason Joseph Smith started Mormon Judaism with its Jewish teaching of millennialism. At the turn of the twentieth century there appeared the Scofield Bible with a Jewish interpretation of the prophecies. With wide use of this "helpful" aid all the American churches have silently become synagogues. We now have Baptist Jews, Methodist Jews, Church of God Jews, apostate Catholic Jews, and many Protestant Jews throughout America. We are aliens in our own country because of false religion. All are praying for divine deliverance into that "Divine Government" which Cornwallis knew to be the British Empire. A false religion has been used to deceive us into allegiance to our enemies of Yorktown and Bunker Hill. No! Not a gun has been fired but the invisible and malignant process of conquering America with the Jew's religion has gone on unabated. The Union Jack has been planted in our hearts with religious deception. All has happened "legally," "constitutionally," "freely" and completely within our most sacred trust -- our churches. Religious deception is painless innoculation against truth. It cannot be removed from the conscience with surgery, yet it is the motivator of our actions and directly controls our lives. Once man gives over to false religion, he is no longer rational because he originates no thought. His life is controlled by whomever controls his religion. The veil of false religion is the sword of Damocles and its power to control humanity defies even the imagination of tyrants who use it. This is not to say that George Washington was a traitor willingly, or knowingly. He was beguiled into a Satanic religious order that insidiously controls men's minds. So have American statesmen and military leaders down through the years given aid and allegiance to the enemies of the United States because they did not have knowledge of the invisible subterfuge that stalks this land. My eyes were opened the day my colleague from Ohio handed me Wagner's FREEMASONRY AN INTERPRETATION. If every American would read it, they would no longer ask why and how it has happened.”

—Senator Joseph McCarthy

:::

https://www.mountvernon.org/library/digitalhistory/digital-encyclopedia/article/freemasonry/

https://www.gilderlehrman.org/history-resources/spotlight-primary-source/surrender-british-general-cornwallis-americans-october

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