#also one whole day is written off bc dad is like 'i know your car appt is at X time but it might take ALL DAY for them to do it!!' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

reidgraygubler · 4 years

Text

carolina (spencer reid/reader

Title: Carolina

Request: no, but it was written for @spencerreidbingo

Couple: spencer reid/fem!reader

Category: smut/angst, with a tiny bit of fluff

Content Warning: SEXUAL CONTENT (praise kink, mild-innocence kink, daddy kink, fingering, oral (male & female), penetrative sex, unprotected sex/cream pie, grinding/petting, hairpulling, breathplay, multiple orgasms, possessive kink, orgasm denial), partying, drinking, swearing, large age gap (between two consenting adults), professor/student, post prison!reid, quick mentions of drinks being drugged (but not actually happening) (if I missed anything, please let me know)

Word Count: 9,064

Summary: Spencer thinks his peer is innocent. But little does he not, she’s not as innocent as he thinks.

A/N: it’s based on carolina by harry styles, bc im a sucker for a good harry song. This was written for @spencerreidbingo (i’ll have a separate post with more about that). this takes up the breathplay square on my card (pictured below). This is also the first time im writing a blowjob scene, so im really sorry if it’s not good. i also didn’t have a beta for this, so im kinda blindly posting this. and, lastly, this is a lot longer than i intended. i didn’t mean for it to get this long… it’s just a bunch of words my brain wouldn’t stop saying until i wrote it... i seriously hope you all enjoy this. thank you all for the love and support! check out my masterlist!

~*~* THIS DOES CONTAIN 18+ CONTENT!! *~*~

{***}{***}{***}

I kept my eyes low as I stepped into the lecture hall 5 minutes before anyone else. The professor was writing something on the chalkboard, so his back was facing the room.

“Uh, hello,” I spoked, stepping closer to his desk. He jumped slightly and dropped his chalk at the sound of my voice. I would have expected him to know students would be showing up earlier, considering it was the start of a new semester. And, I honestly would have assumed he was told a new student was coming. That’s not my job.

“Oh, sorry,” he turned around to face me. I smiled softly, watching

as he bent down to pick up the chalk. I cocked my head to the side, watching his backside as he stood back up. He pushed his hair away from his face. “You must be the new transfer,” he asked, resting the chalk on his desk, beside a pile of pens.

“Yep. That’s me…” I smiled, looking up at his face, keeping myself from further checking him out. I quickly offered my hand and gave him my name. “I know I’m early. I figured I’d get the syllabus from you now instead of after class,” I nodded as I adjusted my grip on my bag. He stared at me for a moment, his eyes lingering on my face and then down my body, and that moment felt like an eternity. I shouldn’t be mad or frustrated with him. I basically did the same thing to him moments ago.

I cleared my throat to get his attention once again. “The, uh… The syllabus?” I asked as my smile faltered slightly. He looked at me before looking at the pile of papers on his desk before quickly moving.

“Right, right, sorry,” he muttered as he began shuffling through the piles of paper on his desk. “Um, here you are,” he looked back up at me as he handed me a small packet. I looked at it for a moment before looking back up at the teacher.

“Perfect, thank you,” I spoke, my words kind of lingering because he never actually gave me his name.

“Right, sorry, Spencer. Spencer Reid. I won’t be a drill sergeant about the whole Mr., Dr., Professor. You can call me whatever you want,” he smiled as he placed his hands on the back of his chair. I held back my laughter and the wildly inappropriate joke that I wanted to make.

“Well, Professor Reid,” I smiled as I looked down at my watch, “I better go find a seat before your class starts. I can’t wait to be in your class,” I looked up at him before turning to find a spot. When I sat down, Spencer looked at me with a smile, before going back to writing on the chalkboard.

I quickly and quietly pulled out my books and pens as the other people in the class filed in and took their seats. Spencer quickly finished writing on the board before turning around to greet the class. And, even as he spoke to the class, and looked around at each of the other students, his eyes always landed on me, lingering for a moment before going elsewhere.

{***}{***}{***}

Five months. Five months into being in Spencer Reid’s class, and I have been suffering. I’m not a new student anymore. But the only friendship I’ve made is with my fucking professor, and there’s a certain level of tension between us. That tension was probably thanks to him staring at me during lectures, and me teasing him while he taught. It wasn’t too bothersome, but I definitely wanted something to happen. Unfortunately for me, I don’t think anything will happen.

So, can someone please tell me why I invited Spencer over to help me study for a test? It’s a stupid question too, that I already figured out the answer to… I even finished studying for the day, and I’m going to a stupid party. Maybe I could get him to go with… And maybe, just maybe, something could happen.

I nearly jumped when there was a knock on the door. It’s not that I forgot he was coming over. It’s that I was so wrapped up in doing my makeup and forgot what time it was. My mascara almost smudged when I jumped back. Thank God it didn’t smudge too terribly.

I grabbed my shirt off the counter and threw it on (not bothering to zip it), before running to the front door. I smoothed out my skirt before pulling the door open. And, there stood Spencer.

“Hope I’m not too late,” he looked down at me and smiled. Although, his smile didn’t stay for too long when he saw what I was wearing. He wasn’t disappointed though, no. He was… He clearly liked what he saw, I’ll just put it that way.

“Oh! Thanks for coming over, but I actually figured it out. I should’ve called you,” I looked up at Spencer as he stepped into my apartment. I struggled to zip the back of my blouse as I walked towards my room. I looked back over my shoulder and noted that Spencer was, indeed, still following me. “Can you zip me up,” I stopped in my tracks before giving up on zipping my blouse. It was a black crop top that paired well with the pale pink tennis skirt.

“Where… Where exactly are you going tonight? It’s a, uh, it’s a school night,” he asked as he lifted his hands. The cool metal of the zipper pressed against my back, causing a shiver to go through my spine.

“Uh, there’s this party,” I answered, stepping away from him and towards the bathroom, “Thought I’d go,” I looked at him in the mirror. Spencer looked around the bathroom, at the messy mess I had made on my counter. Different pallets of makeup and tools were strewn about, a varying amount of hair care products tossed here and there. It honestly looked like a bathroom of a pageant queen, and not a 20-something-year-old. In my defense, I had to dress to impress someone here in this stupid university.

“Is that, uh… Is that smart?” Spencer asked, leaning against the door jamb. I looked up at him as I put on some luxurious red lipstick. I smiled as I looked at him.

“I think it is,” I laughed as I picked up something else and turned to look at him, “You wanna come? I wasn’t invited,” I smiled wickedly as I looked at him. His face paled two shades as he looked at me. “Oh, c’mon, Professor, no one will know us there, and I can assure you, no one will even see us,” I looked up at him as I readjusted his tie. He looked down at me before swallowing roughly.

“I don-”

“I do need a designated driver,” I spoke before cutting him off. I walked past him and towards my room. Part of me wondered what he was thinking as I so rudely rushed past him, or cut him off, or whatever I was doing. I wished I could hear his thoughts. I wondered if they consisted of “The mouth on that girl,” or, “I should punish her for the way she’s acting,” or, my personal favorite, “I should put that mouth to good use,”

“How old are you again?” Spencer asked once I sat down on my bed. I looked up at him as I slipped my shoes on.

“22,” I smiled and stood up, “Why, is that important?” I smiled as I grabbed my coat and purse.

“Couldn’t remember,” he lied. We both knew he was lying. He even knew that too. Freaking walking computer is what he is. There's no way he conveniently forgot how old I was. “Are you going to be out late?”

“Why? It’s not like you’re my dad or anything?” I laughed, leading him back to the front door of the house. “I don’t plan on being out too late. I know there’s class tomorrow,” I shrugged as I walked towards his car.

We both stayed silent as he drove with the directions I was quietly giving him. I was pleasantly happy that we were both quiet, but what I hated was the sudden awkward sexual tension that was between us. If he didn’t have this… domineering personality over me there probably wouldn’t be this tension between us.

“Are you going to come with me?” I looked up at him as I unbuckled. He glanced over at me with slight disappointment in his eye. I felt a little bad, but I really wanted to go to this party, I wasn’t going to let my professor’s disappointment stop me. “Please,” I whispered. He sighed before unbuckling himself. I had to force myself to not verbally giggle with excitement before slipping out of the car. Spencer looked down at me as I twisted my hips to swish my skirt. I smiled as I entertained myself. I'm sure if I wasn't watching my skirt, I would have been staring at him, giving myself away.

“Steps,” Spencer muttered as we got closer to the porch. I looked up at him before looking towards the small staircase. I looked up at Spencer with a smile. He glanced back down at me, a worried crease in his brow. I looked down at my skirt and smoothed it out. I looked at the door as we stood close to it, I contemplated knocking.

“So, you weren’t invited to this party?” Spencer asked, looking down at me. His voice stopped me from knocking. Instead, I looked up at him and smiled back up at him. He raised an eyebrow as he waited for an answer from me. My smile grew playful as I looked back at the door, raising my fist to knock on it. “No answer?” he asked, still waiting for my answer.

“Oh, please, Professor Reid, I can get into the hottest parties in LA without an invitation,” I smiled at him. That was a little bit of an over-exaggeration. Most college parties I could get into. But not LA parties. Someday though…

The door swung open, and we were instantly met with loud music blaring through a speaker somewhere in the house. People’s voices and chatter carried all throughout the house, coming through the various rooms and clusters around. “Are you coming in to babysit me? Or, are you going to go back to your car to read the science of the mathematical phenomenon,” I looked up at him, offering my hand to him. I wasn’t exactly sure if that was a real book or not, but I wouldn’t put it past Spencer to read.

“I’m not babysitting you,” he corrected as he looked down at me with a disappointed look in his eye. I smiled and rolled my eyes.

“Are you going to come in and watch me drink and party and have fun, Professor… Or, are you going to go back to your car and read your silly little book,” I looked down at my hand, silently telling him to take my hand and come in with me.

“I, uh, I don’t think it’s exactly in the rules for a professor to party, let alone drink, with their students,” Spencer spoke before looking down at my hand. I dropped my shoulders and looked up at him.

“Fine then… Suit yourself,” I turned around and basically skipped into the house, leaving the door open for him. I made my way towards the loud kitchen and grabbed for a cup and bottle of whatever booze was nearby. I blindly grabbed for a bottle of Grey Goose and dumped it into the cup, no mixer, no chaser.

“First off,” Spencer’s voice came from beside me. I looked up at him and took a long sip of vodka. “You shouldn’t be taking drinks from people at a party,” he spoke, taking the cup from me. I looked up at him, then the bottle and a new cup. I was only a little annoyed that he took my drink.

“I… I’m young. I’m not dumb,” I grabbed a new cup and poured more vodka. I looked up at him and offered him a sip. “I know not to drink something given to me by someone I don’t know.” I scoffed before taking another long sip. I cringed a bit at how strong it was.

“Even then someone could slip something into a drink! Even if you did know them!” Spencer exclaimed, causing the surrounding people to turn and look at us. I dropped my shoulders as I looked up at him.

“If you look around, Spencer, you’re the only person that I know. So unless you’re the one slipping something into my drink… And, as an FBI agent… I don’t think you would,” I cocked my head to my shoulder. Spencer looked at me with a raised eyebrow. “You have more to say,” I added before taking a sip of my drink.

"And, secondly, you're not as innocent as I had originally thought you were," he watched as I brought the cup of straight vodka to my lips. He looked rather unamused with my talent for drinking straight vodka.

"You thought I was innocent?" I asked, nearly sputtering the liquid with my laughter. "Please! I've never been innocent in my entire life!" I shouted over the music. He raised an eyebrow at my statement, and suddenly I had the greatest idea in the world. "But maybe, just for you, I'll be a good girl," I smiled before drinking the rest of my drink in one go. Spencer looked down at me, his lips pressed into a fine as he stared down at me. Ohh, that definitely awoken something in him. I bit back my smile with my offer. Innocent… He thinks I’m innocent. Ha! I honestly don’t remember the last time I was innocent. And, honestly, just for him… I’d be an innocent, good, little girl for Spencer Reid any day, every day even. “I can be your good, innocent little girl,” I smiled at him and cocked my head.

"I don't… I don't think that'd be… appropriate," he spoke, his words very quiet. We both knew that even though it was inappropriate, we both wanted it. We both knew what we wanted to.

I glanced at him before pouring more drink for myself. "You should learn to pace yourself," he stated and changed the subject. He nervously looked at the bottle of vodka and then around the room at all the other people drinking. Or, he was just looking for a drink that wasn’t booze. Did he actually want to keep me safe, or was I just overreading him?

"It's a college party, Professor! I'm not going to pace myself!" I shouted just to get his attention back to me. His head shot back down to me. The level of concern on his face only made me feel a little bad, mostly because he was concerned for me. But, he should know… This is a college party. “Do you want some?” I asked, offering my drink to him again. I held it up to him, close to his lips. His face twisted up as soon as the scent of pure vodka hit his nose.

“No, no thanks,” he held up at hand to block the cup from his face. I pouted before bringing it to my lips. “Do you usually come to parties,” he asked, his eyes darting around the room. Part of me wondered if he wanted to continue that question with “Like this?” But, I was too busy keeping my eyes on his face, rather than looking around the room like he was. Although, I’m sure he was used to keeping an eye on his surroundings. I’ve never been too worried about it, I probably should… But hey, you only live once. Going to college parties with your 38-year-old professor, and drinking straight vodka, and not really caring about your surroundings proves my point of YOLO.

“If I don’t have class or anything to study for… Yep,” I looked up at him with a sneaky smile. The joke with that was his particular class had a test coming up soon, and I should be studying for it. He knew that too because he just announced the test this morning. Although, he did come to my home, to help me with said test. “But, I wouldn't show up to his class hungover. It’d disappoint him too much. And, he’d care too much about me to even focus on the rest of the class,” I spoke, answering the questions he was thinking. It’s not like I’ve shown up to classes hungover before. Granted, I’ve never shown up to his class drunk or hungover. Mostly because I didn’t want to disappoint him, and only him. Anyone and everyone else can go blow themselves.

“How do you know that?” Spencer asked, looking back at me with furrowed eyebrows. I smiled and stepped closer to him.

“How do I know what?” I cocked my head to my shoulder. I already knew what he meant by his question, but… I think teasing him and messing with him is fun. And, he knew that too.

“How do you know that you’d disappoint him?” he looked down at me, pressing his chin to his chest to get a better look at me. His hands were away from me, even though I really wanted his hands anywhere on me. I looked over at my hand and the cup I held before bringing it to my lips. I took a long sip, trying to finish the contents in one go. I tossed the cup over my shoulder and looked up at him with a lazy smile.

“Because being hungover, with the slight possibility of still being drunk, would totally disappoint him… And I would hate to disappoint him.” I whispered and shook my head. Spencer looked down at me with something in his eyes, and I loved the way he looked at me. “I told you, Professor, I’d be a good girl for you,” I cocked my head to my shoulder and smiled, “And only for you,”

“You’re drunk,” he pointed out an obvious fake statement. So, I cackled and shook my head.

“I had one drink,” I scoffed and waved off my in the air, “Most definitely not enough to get me drunk,” I flattened his tie out before gripping it tightly, “Like I said, I wouldn’t want to disappoint you,” I smiled before dropping my hand from his tie, “So, why would I show up to your class… Hungover…? I know you’d care… And I know it’d disappoint you. That’s the last thing I want to do to you,”

Spencer’s adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed roughly. He quickly looked between me and the room, then back at me, then around the room. I faked a yawn before looking away from him.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom, okay, Professor?” I smoothed out his jacket before turning and leaving him alone in the kitchen. I smiled as I skipped away from him, my skirt swishing with my movement. I secretly hoped he’d follow me. But, a quick glance over my shoulder told me he was still in the kitchen.

However, when I finished my business and left the bathroom, Spencer was leaning against the wall right beside the door. I looked up at him and smiled.

“Follow me,” he muttered, grasping my wrist and pulling me down the various halls and past multiple groups of people. I giggled the harder his grasp grew on me and the faster he moved. I’m happy people were too busy with themselves to notice a 30-something-year-old man was dragging a 20-something-year-old girl down the hall, to which I can assume was one of the only open bedrooms. Fuck… I hope it's a bedroom.

He was a man on a mission. Not letting anyone get in his way. The smile that grew on my lips was pure excitement. I couldn’t help it. I’m sure we’re both getting what we wanted… I hope.

I let out an excited yelp when he shoved me into, exactly what I thought, an empty bedroom. I’m surprised he knew that there’d be an empty room. Most of them are occupied, with couples (or more) doing exactly what I hope we’re about to do. Which was fuck each other.

Spencer slammed the door shut, and quickly locked it before pushing me against it. I looked up at him and giggled like a fucking kid in a candy store. Again, I couldn’t help it.

Spencer was quiet, which led me to be quiet. The air in between us quickly grew hot and tense and thick. I really wanted this to move faster, but I wanted him to be the one in charge. I was willing to let this be slow and let him be in charge. So, when he grabbed both my wrists and held them above my head, I smiled so hard my cheeks began to hurt.

“Tell me what you want,” Spencer’s voice was low and deep as he moved close to me. There was little to no space between us. Which left little to the imagination, for me anyway.

I looked up at him, with the biggest doe eyes I could muster, silently telling him that I wanted the most, in the entire world, was to be on my knees, with his hand tangled in my hair, and his cock down my throat, or to be fucked so hard that I won’t be able to sit properly for several days. But, I couldn’t be that blunt. You gotta play up to that moment before you get it. I’m sure in the end though, I’ll get both things.

I swallowed roughly, trying to think of what to say, because, like I said, I can’t just be blunt yet. So, when I opened my mouth and words just came out, I was pleasantly surprised with what was said. “You’re old enough to be my father, Professor,” I smiled at him as he pinned me against the door. He pressed his hips against mine to keep me against the surface. I could feel a large bulge against my inner thigh, causing me to shiver. “Does that mean I get to call you daddy,” I whispered as I looked up at him through my eyelashes. He is the one who said I could call him whatever I wanted… And he did just ask me what I wanted, and I guess I wanted to call him ‘Daddy’. There was no guessing about him.

Okay, he wasn't exactly old enough to be my father. But he was a lot older than me. Most 20-something-year-olds aren't sleeping with men 15 years older than them… and most 20-something-year-olds aren't sleeping with their professor… I just wanted an excuse to call him 'Daddy'. And he knew that too. So, if we gave each other an excuse for that to happen, then that was all I needed.

I dropped my head to my shoulder to allow him to attack the space on my neck. He dragged his nose across my jawbone before stilling. His lips were just over my neck. As his breathing got heavier, it tickled across my skin.

“That does have a nice ring to it,” Spencer hummed as he dropped my hands and stepped away from me. I swallowed roughly as I stared at him. I missed having his body pressed against mine, and he knew that.

I looked at him as I brought my hands to his belt. "I thought you said this wasn't appropriate, Daddy," I whispered as I quickly undid the belt buckle, without looking. I almost couldn’t move fast enough to unbutton and zip his pants. If he wanted me to stop, he would have stopped me by now. “Can I?” I looked up at him, a plea in my eyes.

"You've changed my mind," he muttered, watching me with such close intent, “God, please keep going,” he spoke like if I did stop now he’d probably die. I looked up at him as I slipped my hand into the waistband of his boxers. He hissed as my fingers brushed against his cock. A small smile grew on my lips.

“Didn’t take much convincing,” I smiled as my fingers wrapped around him. A small groan fell from his lips as I looked up at him. When I pulled my hand away from him not even a moment later, he looked down at me with an alarmed expression on his face. I quickly spat on my palm before sticking my hand down his pants. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted this?” I whispered as I slowly stroked up and down his length. I couldn’t believe it was actually happening.

“I’ve wanted this since you stepped foot in my classroom,” his voice was low and gravely as he spoke. My breathing picked up a little bit as I looked up at him.

Okay… Maybe he did know how long I’ve wanted this. Because I also wanted this the second I stepped into his lecture hall. I wanted his cock in my hands and his hand around my throat. It only took-what, five months for this? I’ll make it worth the wait.

“Does that feel good,” I whispered, carefully picking up speed and adding the slightest bit of pressure in my grip. Spencer’s eyes fluttered shut as he swallowed roughly and nodded. I smiled before pulling my hand away from him, again. I slowly lowered to my knees and kept my eyes on his face.

Spencer looked down at him as he gently pushed his fingers through my hair. His fingers gripping hard on my roots before pulling hard. I smiled before very slowly pulling down his slacks and boxers in one go. I was only a little bit intimidated by his size, but the excitement I felt went straight to my core.

I took a deep breath and swallowed roughly before looking up at him. My mouth fell open, and my tongue stuck out, silently telling him that it was okay. Although I don’t really know why I was telling him that it was okay, we both knew what we wanted, and it was only going to take me doing one thing.

I made eye contact with him as I ran my tongue on the side of his cock. Our eye contact didn’t last long, mostly because he let out a moan and dropped his head back. I smiled as I licked across his tip. A sweet and salty taste was on my tongue.

My jaw fell slack as I carefully took his length into my mouth. I closed my lips around him before slowly bobbing my head, with my tongue swirling around the underside of his cock. I wrapped a hand around what wouldn’t fit into my mouth. And wrapped my free arm around his leg for support.

The sounds of his moans and grunts filled the mostly quiet room. Music, although muffled through the walls and door, could still be heard from outside of our own world behind the door and four walls.

“You were right,” he struggled to speak through groans, “You aren’t as innocent as I thought,” Spencer's hand had a rough hold in my hair as he held me against him. His cock was penetrating my throat, and breathing was beginning to get difficult. My eyes grew wet and tears grew in the corners of my eyes.

“You’re such a good girl,” he looked down at me as the tears started to roll down my cheeks. I wouldn’t be surprised if my makeup started smudging and I looked like an adolescent raccoon. “You look so pretty with my cock down your throat,” he struggled to let out a coo, before moving his hips closer to my face.

Everything about this moment, his hand in my hair, the sounds he was making, the way he smelled, being here… Was intoxicating. I’d give anything to be in this moment again. And I’d give anything to get this moment sooner.

My knees would hate me in the morning, I just know it. I could already sense the dreaded carpet burn before he even started. But, in all honesty, it’d be worth it. Walking into class tomorrow morning, with bruises and day-old wounds on my knees, just to see his expression.

As I began to pick up pace, the sounds Spencer was making started to become more urgent, easily telling me he was close. But, before he could finish, I pulled away from him, crashing into the wall to get away from his grasp. He looked down at me with a mild frustration on his face. I smiled before wiping my chin clean of spit.

“I guess chivalry is dead. Whatever happened to ladies first?” I asked, my voice a rasp from how raw my throat was. I looked up at him, feeling a certain level of sass grow in my smile. Spencer quickly tucked himself back into his pants before grabbing my hand.

“Come on, on your feet,” he muttered as he pulled me back up to a standing position. I nearly toppled over into him if he didn’t hold me upright. I looked up at him and smiled.

“Bed… Now?” I whispered, my tone showing how urgent I was. It’s not that I wanted this over with, it's that I wanted everything to happen to me all at once, and I wanted it to last for a long time.

Spencer nodded before cupping my face in his hands. He was harsh when he pressed his lips to mine, like his life depended on it, if he did kiss me now the world would end. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he started guiding me towards the bed. And when the edge of the bed hit the back of my legs, he pushed me back onto it. I quickly moved so my head was resting on the pillows. Spencer was quick to take his cardigan off and be over me.

“You’re not going to fail me, are you,” I joked as he quickly started leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses on my neck. He lifted his head and looked down at me with confusion on his face. “If I’m a bad fuck,”

“If you ask that again, or bring up class while we’re doing this… Then yes,” he muttered as he looked at me. I laughed as I pushed my fingers through his hair.

“Oh, shut up,” I laughed as I pulled him down to kiss him, again. One of his hands landed on top of my breast, carefully kneading it, causing me to moan into his mouth.

His hand slowly drifted away from my chest. I pressed my head into the pillow and looked up at him with a smirk. He carefully dragged his fingers up from my chest to the base of my neck, causing me to let out a shaky gasp. I wanted fingers and a hand around my neck, carefully cutting off my airway just right. Suddenly, I never wanted something so badly in my life. Something dark flashed in his eyes as he looked down at me like he knew what I was about to say.

“Do it… I fucking dare you,” I muttered, placing both my hands around his wrist. My nose twitched as I stared at him. “I said fucking do it,” I spat, pushing his hand down more onto my neck. My words slowly got cut off as the pressure in his hand and fingers tightened around my neck. A moan struggled to escape me, but did eventually fall from my lips. He seemed pretty happy with that.

“Is that good,” his voice was a growl. I looked at him and moaned.

“Harder,” I begged, my voice growing raspier the more I spoke. He smirked before allowing his grip to tighten. His other hand was still sitting on top of my hips, and I could tell where he wanted to put it. I’d be a dirty, rotten liar if I didn’t want his hand up my skirt. In fact, I’d love it if he did more than just his hand.

Spencer swallowed roughly before finally sneaking a hand up my skirt and resting it on my underwear. My grip around his wrist got tighter as he pushed past my underwear and past my folds. My eyes fluttered closed as another moan was strangled in my throat.

“You’re so wet,” he purred as he slowly moved a finger around my clit. I looked up at him, as I struggled to swallow roughly. A dark smirk grew on his lips as he watched me struggle for a moment. “Does that feel good,” he asked, mildly mocking me from earlier. His movements picked up speed just a little bit, and my body reacted, well tried to react.

“Oh, you’re such a good girl,” he looked down at me. His pupils were so blown I could nearly see my reflection in them. “Another thing you were right about,” he whispered as he slipped a finger into my entrance, and curled it just right. My vision slowly blurred before my eyes rolled into the back of my head. Another moan struggled to escape my throat as Spencer added a second finger.

My body was on autopilot as I lifted my hand and hit his wrist a few times, telling him that I desperately needed to breathe. When I reopened my eyes, I looked up at him a moment before he removed his hand from my neck. Worry and concern flashed in his eyes as I breathed. Air burned like fire in my lungs as I took a deep breath. As I exhaled a loud moan followed behind, easily telling Spencer and I that I had reached my first orgasm of the night. I just hope there will be more...

“You did such a good job, Princess,” Spencer whispered as he looked down at me. With his free hand, he brushed the tears away from my cheeks. He carefully withdrew his hand from between my legs and held them up to his face. He looked at them for a moment before placing them in his mouth, sucking and licking them clean. I took a shaky breath and nodded.

He very sloppily pressed his lips to mine, then on the corner of my lips, and down my jaw, and neck. With one quick movement, a loud rip filled the room, as he tore my shirt off my body. I looked up at him with shock in my eyes. To be fair, that shirt was flimsy, to begin with. I was more worried about leaving my chest so exposed as we left the party.

“Oh, I’ll give you my sweater,” Spencer muttered before attacking my neck and then down to my collarbones, and over my breasts. I gasped as he wrapped his lips around a nipple.

“Mmm, Daddy,” I whimpered as I shifted under him. I brought my hands back up to his hair, tangling my fingers in the hairs on his neck. When he sensed that I was growing restless (even though he just started), he quickly left wet kisses down the rest of my body

“I like the way that sounds coming from your mouth,” he whispered once he was in between my legs. I looked down at him just as he looked up at me. “Good on your end for wearing such a short skirt,” he smiled before pressing his lips to my inner thigh. A shaky breath tumbled from my lips as I looked at him. “Makes for easier access,” he added before going higher up on my leg.

“You’re not going fast enough,” I whined as he just kept kissing, or licking, or rubbing my inner thighs. It was honestly getting annoying. I kind of felt bad for him. Considering I’ve already cum once, and I got him close but didn’t let him finish.

“I’m not going fast enough?” Spencer looked up at me. I shot him a scowl as I shifted slightly on the bed. Spencer looked back down the apex of my legs before looping two fingers around the band of my underwear. As soon as I lifted my hips, he pulled my underwear off my body and chucked them to the ground beside the bed. “How’s this for fast enough,” he muttered, mostly to himself, before licking between my folds. A breath of air got caught in my lungs as my hands found their way to his hair, my fingers getting knotted up in his roots.

“Mhm, Spencer,” I gasped, rolling my hips up at him. He hummed, sending vibrations straight to my core. My legs wrapped around him, my heels digging into his back as my own back arched.

“Ohh, Daddy, please don’t stop,” I cried, pressing my head into the pillow beneath my head. My fingers pulled hard on his hair, pulling him closer to me. He hummed again as he pushed two fingers back into my entrance. My grip in his hair tightened, and I could feel my grip wanting to loosen.

My breathing picked up as a familiar feeling grew in my stomach. And all I could say was his name, and the suddenly loved nickname I had for him. He seemed to appreciate my reaction too, because he worked faster. Messy and wet sounds, mixed with my breathy moans and calls of his name filled the room, and my end was near.

“Fuck,” I shouted as I finally came undone. I could sense if I didn’t pull him away, he’d keep going, and going till I couldn’t take it anymore. And, honestly, that sounds great, but I think that’s for next time. I wanted him in me now. “Spencer, Spencer,” I cried as I tried to pull his head away, but failed so hard.

“Nuh huh,” he hummed, looking up at me. I took a deep breath and pressed my head into the pillow beneath me and threw an arm over my face. “Please, Spencer,” I cried as I bucked my hips at him, “Fuck me, please, fuck me, Daddy,” I moaned. He was going faster than before and was clearly trying to work me to the end faster too. It was hard to breathe, and speak because my words would just get stuck in my throat.

Although, when I did cum, again, for the third time tonight, Spencer did move away from my legs. He knelt between them, wiping his chin with the back of his hand. My body was shaking lightly as I tried to come down from my high.

“Please,” I whispered, lifting a hand up, trying to reach for his tie. He looked down at me with a smile and raised an eyebrow.

“Please what?”

“Please, Daddy,” I furrowed my eyebrows as I spoke. I could feel my voice becoming a little whiney. Spencer moved so he was hovering over me, his fingers gently brushing hair away from my face.

“Tell me what you want, Princess,” he whispered cupping my face in his hand. I looked up at his face, admiring his lips, and eyes, and nose, and the way his lips had a sheen from when he licked them clean and whatever was leftover from when he was eating me out.

“Please fuck me, Daddy,” I begged, begged. Spencer smiled before pressing his lips to mine for a moment. He sat up away from me to remove his sweater and shirt. My head was spinning from excitement, I didn’t even notice that he was totally undressed.

Spencer was back between my legs, looking down at me like I truly belonged right here. Or, like I was his to fuck with. Either way it was a good feeling.

“Ready?” He asked, his voice so low that I could hardly hear it over the bass of the loud music. I rapidly nodded my head, worried my answer was the wrong one. But it wasn’t. I desperately wanted this. Needed. I needed this.

Spencer hovered over me before putting an opened mouth kiss on my lips. I could hardly breathe as he rubbed the tip of his cock against my clit and entrance. I could feel a moan getting caught in the middle of my throat, my body not being about to handle anymore teasing. Until, he very slowly pushed into me.

“Oh, good girl,” he repeated. Those two words, constantly coming off his tongue. Making me feel good. The praise that I hadn’t heard in such a long time, that I longed for. Part of me wondered if he knew I wanted it. “Has someone not been taking care of you?” he asked, looking down at me. I stared at him, not trusting my own voice. My mind was too distracted with the way I felt, light and airy but at the same time full. So I shook my head.

“No, Daddy,” I whimpered and kept shaking my head. Spencer smiled before pressing his lips to mine.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you now. I’ll take care of you,” he mumbled before moving his hips. It took him a moment to get a perfect rhythm. He lips attached to different spots on my neck, leaving hickies in his wake.

“Spencer,” I whispered as I moved my head closer to my shoulder to let him have more space.

“You feel so good,” he grunted as he moved his hips so he was deeper in me, “You feel so good, and you’re all mine,” he pressed his forehead to mine as he wrapped his arms around my lower back, pulling me closer up to him. My breathing got deep, my chest heaving with each breath I took. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him down, closer to my face.

“Oh, be quiet,” I whispered before putting my lips on his. He smiled before passing his tongue between my lips. A moan fell from my lips, which he seemed to enjoy… Considering it was probably just music to his ears.

“I’ll only be quiet if you keep making those little noises,” he muttered against my lips. I opened my eyes and looked up at him. He smiled again as I knotted my fingers in the hair on the back of his head.

“Faster,” I breathed out, keeping my eyes on him. Spencer laughed lightly as he picked up the speed. My hips bucked with his, meeting at the right points. “Please,” I whimpered as I threw my head back more into the pillow. He pulled his arm away from my back and brought his hand between our legs, where we met.

“It’s okay, Little Girl,” Spencer whispered before pressing his lips to the side of my face. I let out a shaky breah and arched my body into his. I couldn’t believe how good I felt. I almost wasn’t sure if it was fair that my professor was better in bed than other men my age. He was more experienced, to be fair. “You can finish, it’s okay,” he kept his voice low. It almost sounded like he was giving me permission.

I nodded my head, breathing heavily through my nose. “Mmm, Spencer,” I moaned, loudy, as my walls fluttered around him and my release came. And a few moments later, Spencer thrusted deep into me with a grunt, filling me with his essence. His body collapsed on top of me whence he finished.

“Fuck,” I muttered, my fingers still tangled in his hair. My limbs were sore and shaking slightly from the rough movements. Spencer laughed lightly, agreeing with my statement. “We can’t sleep here,” I whispered, keeping my eyes on the ceiling above us. I wished we could just sleep here, mostly because I was exhausted after everything we did.

“I know,” Spencer replied as he slowly moved off and away from me. I looked up at him with wide eyes. “You’re messy now,” he muttered as he basically tumbled off the bed. I quickly sat up, just to make sure he was okay. Although I was happy he was okay, I quickly regretted moving as fast as I did.

“Your sweater,” I mumbled, reaching out towards where his sweater was lying. He looked down at it before picking it up to hand to me. He also grabbed a fistful of tissues and moved to between my legs, again. “Just give me your boxers,” I looked at him as he wiped the insides of my thighs clean. He looked back up at me, still cleaning my legs.

“I’ll give you a ride home,” he spoke as he tossed the dirty tissues to the trash. He grabbed his slacks and boxers, tossing me his boxers. I slipped them on under my skirt, and then slipped his sweater on.

“I’d hope so,” I whispered as I stood up. My body wobbled for a second, nearly falling over, before I caught my balance. Spencer looked back at me, looking at how fucked I looked. I mean, I probably looked about the same as him.

“I’d given you a ride home either way,” he said as he redressed. I looked at him with confusion on my face. Either way? So even if we hadn’t had sex, he would have given me a ride. I asked him and he said yes. So I would hope he’d given me a ride, even if we didn’t fuck.

Once we were both ready to leave this stupid party, that I didn’t even enjoy (well, I did, I was just in a different world), or was even invited to, we walked out. It was as easy as pie. And, since no one really knew either of us were here, I won’t be known as the girl who fucked the professor.

The drive home was quiet. Like, even quieter than the drive here. He didn’t even have the music playing. I wondered if it was my fault, if he was regretting what we had done. If I had known he’d be so regretful, I wouldn’t have wanted to fuck him. But, I guess its too late now.

When I looked out the window, I realized we were parked outside my apartment building. I looked down at my attire and looked back at Spencer.

“Thanks… Thanks for the ride… And thanks for the sweater. I’ll be sure to give it back to you… Eventually,” I looked up at Spencer as I pulled the door open to leave.

“See you Thursday,” he nodded at me. I looked at him before slamming the door shut. I scoffed before turning to walk up to my home. I couldn’t want to sleep.

{***}{***}{***}

Two weeks. Two weeks since Spencer and I fucked. Okay, not too bad. I don’t regret it, and I’m not afraid to say that. However, I think he might be regretting it. Considering he’d been nothing but ignoring me since the night of the par-Well, I wouldn’t say ignoring me since then. He did fuck me in his office the following Thursday. But, it’s still been two weeks since he last said anything to me. Fuck, I’ve never been so mad.

“Good morning, Professor Reid,” I looked at him as I skipped into his lecture hall. I heard his words begin to greet me back, but fail when he saw what I was wearing. “Best get to my seat. Excited for today’s lesson,” I readjusted the cardigan that hung off my shoulders before turning to go to my seat.

I could feel his eyes burning into the back of my skull as I walked away from him. Or, was he staring at my ass. Most likely my ass. It was my ass he was staring at. I was wearing a fairly short skirt, so that’s on me. But, I’d do anything to get his attention today. And it would appear I have gotten it.

His lesson wasn’t actually anything important. It was just revision for the test coming up soon. But, it was obvious he had other things on his mind, and I was very clearly one of them. It was honestly a little distracting if I’m going to be honest.

So, I was happy when he called the end of class 5 minutes early. Although that excitement was gone the second he called my name to the front to talk. I looked at the ground as I stood by his desk, waiting for the very last person to leave so Spencer and I could have our moment alone.

“What are you doing wearing that?” Spencer asked as soon as it was just us. I tried to ignore the fact that he was trying to take the sweater off me, and made my shoulders drop.

“What? This old thing?” I asked, pulling the cardigan that he let me wear around my body. I looked back at him and smiled. He was not smiling. “You gave it to me,” I scoffed, letting him take it off me without a fight. I watched as he folded it over the back of the chair before turning to face me.

“I gave it to you so your,” his words began to get jumbled up as he gestured to my boobs, “So you weren’t exposed in front of any-”

“So no one would see what belonged to you?” I asked, folding my arms over my chest. Spencer looked down at me, a flabbergasted look on his face. I smiled and cocked my head to my shoulder.

“I… I never said that,” Spencer shook his head.

“Yeah, but you thought it,” I scoffed and rolled my eyes. Spencer looked down at me. I could tell that he was trying to be the one in charge, kinda like how he was the other night. But it was so, so clear that he couldn’t be in charge. That he wouldn’t be in charge now. That this was just embarrassing to him. Maybe that’s just how our dynamic would work. Out in public, I was the loud one, the one who made everyone think that I was in charge in the bedroom. And, Spencer, in public, was the quiet, shy, nervous one, who was clearly submissive in bed. But in actuality, he was telling me what to do, when and when I can’t cum.

“Why were you wearing that?” he asked again, his voice pulling me from my very dirty thoughts. I looked up at him and smiled.

“Because you were ignoring me! I needed to get your attention somehow! And then I remembered I still had that,” I smiled at him. I wished I still had his sweater on, because it was actually quite cozy and warm. The look he gave me made me drop my shoulders, suddenly feeling ashamed about the current situation. So, I stared at him, feeling annoyed. More annoyed than I have over the last two weeks. “Do you regret it?” I finally asked, not really knowing if he’d be mad with my question.��

“Pardon me?” He asked, raising an eyebrow as he looked at me. I shook my head and looked down at the ground. “It’s not that I regret it-”

“So you do,” I looked back up at him and dropped my shoulders again. Before Spencer got the chance to say anything, I cut him off, “Oh please, you loved shoving your tongue, and cock, down my throat,” I scoffed before looking at him. The expression on his face flinched slightly as he looked back at me from behind the desk. “I get to… I get to be your good, little girl, your princess for, what, a week? A day? 12 hours? Whenever the fuck you want... And I’m supposed to go back to normal life the next day? And… And pretend that nothing happened!” I stared at him and shook my head. Spencer looked over at the door and back at me. “Thinking it’ll never happen again!” I shouted. I didn’t mean to shout, honest. But I was starting to get angry. He made me feel something like I belonged to someone. And now I don’t feel like that.

“Will you stop talking for a second,” he muttered before stepping away from me and his desk. He walked over to the door and shut it. I crossed my arms over my chest and watched as he walked back over to me. “I never said you had to pretend as if nothing happened. And I never said that I regret it,” he spoke in a harsh whisper. I looked at him with mild irritation on my face.

“It sure fucking felt like it,” I spat at him.

“You’re all I think about… Christ, I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you that. I never said you had to forget everything… Because I’ve been having a hard time forgetting it myself.” He looked up at me. I almost refused to look at him, but his voice was so soft that I had to look at him. “I never expected you to forget,” he added.

“Then why are you acting like it didn’t happen,” I stared at him before swallowing roughly, “You made me feel like I was wanted, that I belonged somewhere, with someone,” I spoke as I stepped closer to him. It was only a little bit closer to him, not as much as I wanted. But he stepped closer to me, making it so we were the closest we had been all day, in one large step. "You remind me of home," I added in a whisper. Spencer smiled and cocked his head to his shoulder.

“You do belong somewhere,” he whispered, resting his hands on my shoulders. I looked up at him, feeling my heart pick up speed, and butterflies appear in my tummy. “And that somewhere is with me,” he brought at hand to my cheek, allowing his thumb to rest on my lower lip. I looked up at him before he pressed his lips to mine.

I was honestly expecting him to say something else. I don’t know what. But I liked what he said, it made me feel really good. Like, I belonged with him, and nothing could change that.

taglist: @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto, @thebluetint

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spencersawkward · 3 years

Text

top shelf//MGG - part 1

summary: broke and having a bad day, Reader runs into Matthew outside a café. after a couple encounters, his financial support and friendship become something more.

word count: 3k

content warnings: swearing but nothing else!

pairing: Fem!Reader/Matthew

A/N: hi! welcome to my new series. i don’t think this will be super long in terms of parts, but i’ll try to update as frequently as possible for you all. this chapter is pretty expositional, so i’m sorry in advance lol. also i know i made it short but lmk if you want them to be longer. also shoutout my sweet sweet angels @reidsconverse and @voidsfilm bc i would literally cry without both of you. also THANK YOU to @dr-spencerr-reidd for this concept bc i probably wouldn't have written it without your ask!! sending hugs :)

you throw your phone down on the passenger seat with a frustrated groan. after everything that's happened today, you're now stuck on a congested street with your car barely inside the parking spot alongside the sidewalk.

your screen sits there beside you, blank and unresponsive, and you know you're going to have to go inside the coffee shop to ask to use their phone and call Triple A. of course it's not working because nothing is working today. you might as well just sit in your car and cry.

but you can't, because you have a huge project for work that you need to get done by next week, and you've already procrastinated enough. a red glow from the headlights of other cars on the street shine through your windows like melted wax, distorted by the rain. it's been pouring all day.

bracing yourself for the onslaught, you grab the old umbrella from the foot well of the passenger seat and open the door of your car. the torrents hit your body like a wall of ice, soaking you as you try to get to the safety of the café. the umbrella helps a little, but then you get to the overhang and have to actually close it before you head inside.

your fingertips slip around the metal, trying to shove the thing closed while water drips off the bridge of your nose. it's frustrating. your footsteps are still determined as they move towards the entrance, but you're distracted by the stubborn nature of the object, so you don't see the man walking out.

it's not even a bodily collision, really. it's so much worse: the sopping material of the umbrella pokes him in the stomach, knocking the hot cup of coffee all over his sweater.

your eyes widen.

"oh my fucking god, I'm so sorry--" you stutter over your words, completely at a loss. his face is twisted up in an expression of concealed pain. it can't feel good to have hot coffee seeping through your clothes after being prodded by a piece of metal. you move your wet hair out of your face in order to look at him full-on.

"it's fine, really." he gives you what's supposed to be a friendly smile, but looks more like a grimace. your stomach twists; he's hot. like, if you saw him at the bar you would stare at him all night kind of hot.

"no, it's not," your face heats up, despite the cold, damp air. "let me buy you another coffee."

"I--" he glances down at his sweater, which is knitted with cute foxes on the front, then back at you. he pauses a moment and you have to bite down on your tongue to keep from collapsing. he's considerably older than you, but he doesn't dress or act that way. maybe late thirties, if you had to guess. "sure. thanks."

a flowering relief in your chest, partly because he doesn't seem angry and partly because you'd like to look at his face just a bit longer. your eyes stay on his until someone walks through the door of the café and reminds you of where you are.

without a word, you brush past and go into the building, him trailing behind.

Matthew watches as you walk ahead, your clothes spattered with rainwater and your hair somewhat messed up, too. he smiles to himself at the way you almost bump into the corner of a table, nervousness evident in nearly every movement.

you head to the counter, setting your hands on the granite while the barista checks out your unkempt appearance.

"hi," you smile at her before realizing you have no idea what this guy wants. you turn around and see him standing slightly behind you, suppressing a smile. he can tell how flustered you are, and now you look like a fool. "what coffee do you drink?"

"can I have a medium Americano, please?" he asks the barista with a friendly smile. he's got straight teeth, dimples... holy shit. you wish he had been unappealing so that this whole situation would be less humiliating.

you pay for his drink before getting out of the way, both of you slowly walking to the pickup counter.

"again, I'm really sorry. that stupid umbrella." you shake the thing at your side, raindrops falling to the floor. you run a hand through your wet hair.

"it's okay. I appreciate you getting me another cup." he flashes that smile again and you remember that his sweater is all stained. before you can think to do anything else, you pluck a handful of napkins from the self-serve station and start to dab at the material.

he looks down at you for a second, surprised by the way you grab his clothes. Matthew feels your hand pressing into his stomach innocently, and he feels himself blush a little. it's only when you pull away that he's able to regain his head.

"it's still bad," you throw away the napkins and re-evaluate the garment. "jesus christ, it's a nice sweater, too."

"hey, it's totally fine. I can just wash it out." he lets out a slight chuckle, and the sound makes your heart flutter. he's got a dad laugh. deep in his chest.

"baking soda and water." you say abruptly. he frowns.

"what?"

"to get the stain out? I use baking soda and water for coffee stains and it usually works." you explain gently, your eyes meeting again. his irises are a brownish hazel color, warm. the laugh lines by them are charming.

"oh," he grins. "do you get coffee stains often?"

you twist your mouth to the side and glance at the windows of the coffee shop. he's teasing you and you'd be remiss if you said you don't want to play along. "more than I'd like to admit."

you can feel him looking at you with that stupidly brilliant smile and it's really setting you off-kilter. someone shouldn't be that attractive; it's not fair. and yet you want desperately to stare, if purely for the sake of aesthetic enjoyment.

"I'm Matthew." he extends his hand, which is decorated with a series of rings. you realize that you don't even know his name.

"Y/N." you shake. his fingers are softer than you expected.

"nice to meet you, Y/N."

"and under such fortuitous circumstances." the corners of your mouth turn up as you relax a little.

he laughs at your words, the delightful ring of it interrupted by a new Americano showing up on the counter. he glances at the to-go cup, then at you, then goes to get his drink. you wish you knew what he was thinking, but he's not displaying anything past friendliness.

"well, um." something like disappointment settles in your stomach as you recognize this will be the last of your interaction. there's no reason for him to stick around, and you need to get back home to work, anyway.

"I'll let you get back to your day." Matthew doesn't seem nervous, just unsure as he grips the coffee in his hand. you open and close your mouth like something impressive enough to keep him here will come out. you know it won't.

and then you remember the state of affairs, the existence of your useless car and the useless phone in the front seat, how you're going to have to call Triple A and then your roommate to come get you.

Matthew realizes that you aren't going to say anything and he gives you one last smile and an awkward wave before turning to go. you watch in silence as he crosses the room to the door. two more seconds until he's out of your life forever. so of course you choose this exact moment to speak.

"wait."

his head jerks suddenly to look at you. this is embarrassing, but you have nothing to lose.

"can I... borrow your phone?"

Matthew tilts his head to the side slightly, frowning as though deeply confused. and you suppose it is a strange thing to ask, especially given that you're a younger person and most people your age carry their phones everywhere. "sure." he walks back over to you, pulling his cell out of his pocket.

"I just--" you fumble with the device while you decide how to phrase it without sounding like a pathetic mess. "my car keeps breaking down and my phone battery is, like, totally fucked, so it just turns off and on constantly and it’s still in my car but it’s raining and I just wanna see if it’s back on so I can call my roommate." you immediately cringe at yourself. the rambling isn’t cute.

he’s not too bothered by your panicking, though, his mouth only forming an O shape. "it’s no problem."

you dial your number, fingers trembling while he waits. he's turned his eyes to the rest of the coffee shop, but it still makes you nervous that he's standing right there. you put the cell to your ear and pray that it rings out.

you’re greeted by the sound of your own voice telling you to leave a message. great. with a frustrated sigh, you hang up and Matthew gives you an inquisitive expression.

“it’s still off,” you explain. “I’m gonna call my roommate.”

he nods and shoves his hands into his pockets while you punch in the other number. for a split second, you peek his way and admire his side profile. he really is something to behold; a model, maybe.

"hello?" good thing Cecilia has no problem answering unknown numbers. you bite your lip.

"hey, it's me."

"Y/N? whose phone are you using?"

"uh, someone I just met--" you frown as you try to find a way to describe him without something as insulting as a random guy. "anyway, my car broke down so I was wondering if you could pick me up."

there's a pause on the other end of the line, like the movement of sheets and the slightly disappointed groan of another person. she probably has her boyfriend over again. "sure, of course. where are you?"

you give her the address and hang up before dialing the car repair company. Matthew gestures to a table off to the side so that you two don't need to stand, and then you sit down across from him. you're so distracted by the person on the other end of the line that you don't even think about it.

Matthew twists his rings on his fingers. he's fidgety and it's sort of cute. you try not to stare at his hands, at the black spot of ink on the outside of his pinky. either he writes a lot or he's an artist. you have to focus on the table in order to keep from blushing.

finally, you finish up with the phone and hand it back to him. "you're a life saver."

"do you want me to wait with you until your friend gets here?" he gestures out the window. your immediate reaction is to say yes. it'll be awkward to sit here alone without your phone, without coffee. but you don't want to keep him any longer than you already have.

"it's okay, I'm sure you have places to be." you smile accommodatingly. he chooses his next words carefully, it seems.

"I don't, really. but I'll leave you alone if that's what you want, too." the way he speaks, offering his company without trying to impose... something about it makes your heart melt a bit. you appreciate his thoughtfulness. it makes you want to know more.

"okay," you nod as you make your decision. "if you wanna stay. it shouldn't be too long."

"great," he settles back into his chair, the light from the café lights above you reflecting off the lenses of his glasses. "why does your car keep breaking down?"

you exhale sharply at the thought. "that's a really good question, because I don't know the answer. it's super old and I'm too broke to afford a new one."

he nods.

Matthew's mind turns to different avenues at this knowledge. he knows you're young and that usually means that there isn't a lot of spare income. and he doesn't know if you have a job. but what he does know is that you've got an energy about you-- a sweet, well-intentioned manner that draws him in. every once in a while throughout the conversation, you throw out certain phrases that hint at a quick-witted intelligence.

you're funny, but not boldly so. and when you two get on the topic of how you ended up rain-soaked, shoving your way into a Los Angeles café, you tell him about your day.

"--and I have this shitty job right now working for one of my old professor's friends, so it's not like I can afford to constantly repair the damages. all my money is going towards my savings so I can pay for grad school, anyway." you sigh. he listens intently to your words, and he never shies away from eye contact. every time he nods along, you practically feel your heart leap.

"what do you do?" he asks.

"I write for a wellness magazine, but I'm sort of a fraud." you joke.

he laughs. "why's that?"

"I don't know, a lot of it is about different yoga methods and meditation, stuff like that-- but I don't do any of that in my daily life." you admit. it should be embarrassing, but you don't feel ashamed of the fact. he seems to find it funny.

"working your way toward a different kind of job, then?"

"I'm hoping for a more editorial role, honestly, but..." you lift your eyes to his. they're bright, he notices; full of a deep-rooted hope. "gotta start somewhere, right?"

"very true." Matthew wants to tell you just how much he understands, about the roles as an actor he's taken and the hours he spent making films in college, just hoping that one day he'd be able to make things on his own, but he doesn't want to scare you away or sound like he's bragging. it's not your fault you don't know who he is.

"sorry," you speak through a silence he doesn't realize he's left between you two. "I've talked your ear off and you don't even really know me. what do you do?"

"oh--" Matthew actually blushes this time. you see the pink creeping up his neck. "I'm an actor."

in the same way they did when you ran into him, your eyes widen. "an actor?"

"yeah," he smiles at the expression on your face. "you know that show, Criminal Minds?"

the name is familiar, but you've never seen an episode. "yeah, of course."

"I'm in that."

you don't know a lot about the program, but you've heard it talked about and you know that it's a popular show. so this guy is an actual actor, not just some LA wannabe. that makes him about five times more intimidating. you feel even more idiotic for not seeing it before.

"oh, shit," the words tumble out. Matthew grins at the bluntness of your reaction, and you scramble to recover. "sorry I didn't know who you are."

"no worries!" he laughs it off. "it's not a big deal."

"do you like it?" you ask. "being famous, I mean."

he shifts in his seat for a second as he makes a face like he doesn't know how to answer. you wonder if there's something deeper to him that you just haven't seen, yet. secret feelings about the subject. "I'm really not very famous, but I love the work."

genuinely humble. you can see it in his face, the sparkle in his eyes. and maybe he's just charming and you're just a girl blinded by his attractiveness, but your gut tells you that he's being real.

this time, you're the one who falls silent. admittedly, you get a little in your head sometimes. and it makes sense, now, the smoothness of his behavior and the sheer beauty of his face. this is a show business city-- of course he's famous.

Matthew's phone rings and he jumps, as if jolted from a dream. your attention moves immediately to the screen and you recognize Cecilia's number. he pushes the device over to you.

"hello?" your voice sounds far away.

"hey, I'm here. where are you?" she says.

"I'm just inside the café."

"oh, okay, I'll park and come in--" you hear the click of a seatbelt and start to panic. she can't see you in here with him.

"no!" you say too loudly. Matthew's head jerks up to frown at you.

"why not?" Cecilia asks, confused.

"no reason," god, you're a bad liar. "I'll come out and we can wait for the Triple A person in your car." you and Matthew make eye contact again. he gives you an understanding smile. your stomach flips.

"sounds good." she hangs up and you grab your umbrella. time to go.

"thanks for letting me use your phone." you stand, not really wanting to say goodbye but also lacking a reason to stay. he remains in his spot, seemingly now settled into this little corner of the café. it sort of suits him, this place. all cozy and slightly strange.

“happy to help.” you notice the tip of his tongue dart out over his bottom lip as if deliberating whether or not to say anything further. but he doesn’t and you feel awkward just standing there by the table.

“I’ll, uh…” you could ask for his number. but that would be weird, right? he doesn’t really seem to have an interest, anyway. “I’ll see you around, then.”

“yeah. it was nice to meet you, Y/N.” he gives one more of those killer smiles and you turn around, almost bumping into a display of coffee beans before correcting yourself and heading back outside.

taglist (lmk if you want to be added or removed!): @la-vie-en-amour1 @reidsconverse @voidsfilm

#mgg #matthew gray gubler #mgg x reader #fic #sugar daddy mgg #matthew gray gubler fanfiction

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teamfreewill2pointo · 3 years

Text

Transcript of End of the Road Special

Transcript of End of the Road Special.

Please let me know if I made any errors in transcription. Twitter version Family Don’t End with Blood Transcription Winchester Mythology Transcription

Dabb: Ultimately, we came up with something that we're all very proud of Singer: You never know what the audience is going to like so we really tried to say "what would make us happy? Would we be satisfied with where we've taken them?"

The Carry On song was a guideline.

Singer: The myth of what these brothers were throughout 15 years... We didn't shy away from fatalism, but we wanted to be able to have it be kinda uplifting as well.

Dabb: If you're going to do something that feels like a complete arc, you have to kinda go back to the beginning of it (clips of them hunting vamps from s1 & 15.20) When it comes to Sam & Dean- it's all about getting back to, in some ways, these two guys on the road in this car.

Dabb: They've been doing this job for 15 years now. They've fought everyone from demons to vampires to God himself, but at the end of the day, they're still working guys, out there on the road & taking cases. We've tried to never lose sight of that.

Dabb: There are times when we've been wrapped up in our own mythology a little bit. We've always tried to get back to the basics, which are: these two guys, saving people, hunting things.

Eugenie: I think we sort of knew generally what the ending would involve.

Eugenie: We might not have known the mechanics, but we sort of knew there would be a victorious, glorious sacrificial ending bc I think sacrifice is a big theme in the series.

For every great thing you do, a cost must be paid.

Singer: Andrew & I talked about it. We were in agreement pretty quickly... talked to the rest of the writing staff & let them know what we wanted to do and we were open to suggestions. And then we pretty much pitched it to Jared and Jensen.

Jensen talks about flying to LA. Jensen: So before we ever even started 15, we knew how the last portion of the story was going to go. We didn't know how we were going to get there, but we kinda knew the final- the finish line- we knew what... what that was going to look like.

Jared: I don't think there's ever been a season of SPN in 15 years where the way the writers thought the show would play out for that season- ended up being the way it played out And so we were aware of that. They told us here's what we're thinking, here's what happens to Castiel

Jared: In the finale, Dean dies & Sam lives on. And then we think they're going to meet up in heaven.

I remember Jensen... just because I know him so well- he seemed to bristle a little bit.

Jensen: It was hard to hear then & it was hard to read now. Not because I didn't like it, not because I wished it had gone differently... I'm not adverse to it. I think it's a great ending. I'm proud to film it.

Singer: And we just aimed for that, you know, throughout the season. We knew where we were going.

Jensen: Reading it & knowing that... there's just a weight that is so much larger reading these scripts than I've ever experienced before.

There's an emotional weight that these scripts are going to carry & these episodes are going to have that I don't think we've ever seen before.

Brad: [J2] were so young when all of this started. They brought to it such conviction & such commitment to the effort.

That's one of the things that kept the show going for so many years... a show that was designed for very young guys, footloose & fancy free, & on the road…

Brad: To see these guys grow up b4 your eyes into- men, not boys any longer- was amazing.

BABY Jared: Though the story does involve Sam & Dean chasing supernatural things, it really is a story about two brothers that love each other & ultimately will do anything for each other.

Jensen: There's really one person that gets it on the level that I get it, and that's Jared. Jared: I've never spent as much time with another human being as I have with Jensen Ackles. He will be my friend and brother forever. And I know that.

BABY Jensen: There's a lot of dynamics between the two brothers, there's a lot of history between them, there's a lot of banter between them... it's good stuff S15 Jensen: We had a partner in crime & we leaned on each other for, you know, for times when it was tough.

Jensen: But we also won together. We got to share the experience of success & the experience of getting picked up for another season. Watching these two characters go through what they're going through, when we're working 14 hours & it's 2-3 o’clock on a Sat morning and we're just now finishing filming out in the rain and mud and we gotta race to the airport to get on a plane because we've got a photoshoot in LA & we've gotta do on camera interviews and we gotta promote the show that we love so much that we were just in the mud & the rain filming hours before we're exhausted and it's like there's only one person that gets that right now. That gets how I feel and that's this guy standing next to me. That's pretty cool. That's pretty cool to have somebody like that.

Brad: We knew it was going to be impossible to tie up every aspect of all of the cans of worms that we opened up.

We did want to bring a proper ending to the guys, the guy's relationship.

Brad: Then of course we had this huge corner we painted ourselves into with the most powerful thing in the universe being the big bad of the season. We try and find a proper send off for Jack & for Cas. What to do w/ the boys & is that a together farewell or an individual?

It was just... lots of moving parts.

Dabb: I give a lot of credit to Bobo who really was the one who started banging the drum early & often to ending the mythology in 19 and end the characters in 20.

Brad: You're battling God & battling God & you have this epic situation going on through the first 3/4 of the show & then what? You send off Dean in act 4? That just felt wrong. Eugenie: We had this obligation, it was really mandatory, that we tie up the mythic narrative and leave the final episode for the emotional resolution. I [was] more on the side of not wanting to best God. To have God change to be more like his creations. So there were philosophical arguments, but we always knew God's resolution was going to be a big ticket item.

Jensen: We'd started day 1 of the 2nd to last episode, 19. We were 1 day down on that episode & we were just about to start our 2nd day & we got the call that morning that we were not going to be coming in that day.

Jensen: So we figured ok, we'll figure out protocol, figure out what we need to do, & we'll just regroup, come back on Monday. As that day progressed, it was like- this looks like more of an apocalypse that is ascending upon us than just a bad cold.

They pulled the plug & they said everybody go home.

Singer: Fortunately, we got assurance from both the studio & the network that one way or another we were gonna finish the series. That was comforting to us, but we didn't know when we were going to go back.

Eugenie: We didn't know what we were going back to... if this was the last time we would ever see the set. There was no plan. It was just get out of dodge. Dabb: When it first happened, we thought it would be a couple of weeks, maybe a month.

I had conversations w/WB where they expected everyone to be back shooting in June & then things got worse & pushed & pushed.

Eugenie: Slowly as we settled into that 4 or 5 month period, discussions were going on w/the studio, & the networks, & the actors. We knew there would be restrictions on what we were allowed to shoot, but finally, the mechanics were figured out.

Singer: So they were ready to go pretty quickly, shooting in Van, where covid wasn't quite as virulent as it was [in LA].

Dabb: We were one of the first shows, one of the first WB shows to start back up. So in a way, we were kinda a guinea pig. But, in being that, I think everyone took it really seriously. We had 0 positive tests. Crew members weren't going out on the weekends.

They were like look, if I get sick, it hurts the whole show. That speaks to the family culture up there, where we've had so much of our crew for so long. Where J2 & Singer provide such great leadership.

Singer: When I was in prep for 20, I was basically in the office but couldn't go to the set. It was very odd for me not to be able to go to the set while I was in prep.

Everybody just hung in there & did what they were supposed to do.

Brad: Then we were faced with the dilemma of having to rewrite a lot of the stuff bc of the pandemic bc of the limitations that we knew were going to come on the production.

Jensen: We were gearing up for, not only the end of that season, but the end of the series. There was a lot of big, big things written-packed- into those last two scripts.

Jared: At first, it was supposed to be a lot of our old cast from prior seasons in a Roadhouse with Kansas.

Everybody had already agreed. Kansas was going to be in Van. We were going to have dad there & mom there. Just probably 20 or 30 different actors & actresses who had been a part of the SPN's canon over the last 15 & a half years.

Jensen: It was scheduled to be the last day that we were going to film, so it was almost like rolling right into a nice wrap party on camera.

Brad: The idea of flying a boatload of ppl up there to quarantine for 2 weeks so they could shoot for a day was making less & less sense.

Eugenie: How do we make this work? And while you're doing that, you also don't want to sacrifice the heart and soul of the project.

So we came up with a reduced, much more intimate ending. It has been replaced by something equally magical & rewarding.

Singer: I felt an enormous responsibility in directing the finale of a show that's been on for 15 years. Andrew, when he saw the cut, he said some really nice things to me as to, you know, the way I handled the material.

Jensen: The scenes that were filmed on our last day on the sound stages were filled with the most emotion of the final episode.

Singer: One of the really hard things was we're on another stage that wasn't the MoL stage & they started wrecking the MoL sets

They'd been working on this set and been apart of this- this family for just as long if not longer than the set's been around. I was like "it's really sad seeing this get taken down" and the other guy said, "I'm trying to hold back tears while I'm swinging this hammer."

Jared: As we start saying goodbye to characters, to locations, like it just seems like every day you would wake up and there would be some reason to cry.

Misha: This is a show ultimately about love, & empathy, & caring, & I think that Castiel embodies that.

Misha: Half the crew was crying. It was really such a sweet, supporting environment to be in for the demise of a character that, of course, for me is really important.

But it was so lovely to see that, you know, the folks that I'm- I'm working with were also there for Cas at that moment.

Alex: To get to work with these caliber people & see your friends every day is really special & is not something that often happens in this business for this long. It's been definitely a topsy turvy last couple weeks here with us and the crew.

Jared: Friday of the final full week was the big scene in the barn with the vampires where Dean suffers his fate. They did the first two days with the entire stunt team & the young boy actors.

And then they cut it for Thursday night and they're like, okay, Friday, tomorrow, we’re starting the dialogue. Dean, you're on the post. Sam, you just cut off the last vampire's head.

That was the scene- that was where Supernatural was really encapsulated.

Jensen: And then the next week we kind of had this- on the road encore get together filmmaking scenario that felt more like we made it & it was more pats on the back as opposed to tearful goodbyes.

Dabb: In a weird way you can look at the 15 seasons is like Sam & Dean's emotional evolution. You know instead of therapy, they kill vampires, but other than that it's kind of the same & brings them both to a very good place. And a place where they can, as the song says, you know, lay their weary head to rest.

This felt like the most honest & emotionally fulfilling episode for these characters to us. Jared: I got thinking about how Supernatural started & how the majority of times how I thought it should end. It started with Sam & Dean Winchester. I think it's proper that it ended with Sam & Dean Winchester together again.

Jensen: When the cameras stop rolling & Bob yelled, “Cut!” and Bob yelled, “That’s a series wrap on Supernatural.” There was- a there was a loud cheer that echoed through that canyon we were filming in. I will- I will happily say that there were hugs that happened and that needed to happen. Those are people that I spent not just years with, but so much time with- it's like brothers in arms and so to put it to bed the way that we did felt really good and then felt good to hug some people, I'll tell you that much. Singer: I thanked everyone, but I wanted to really thank people who had been with us from the beginning and as I looked around, there were so many people who had been there from the beginning.

We really were a family. I always say about this show is one of the reasons that it was a success and is that it was not only about the Winchester family, but it was about the Supernatural family.

Jared: So now that's all said and done, I guess I can look back at it and just be proud that I helped this show carry on and I'm really proud of the blood, sweat, and tears that I put in, and I feel like- I feel like that sacrifice was also maybe one of the things I learned from Sam, you know? Sam had to sacrifice a lot. So, I'm honored and flattered and grateful that I got to be a part of that journey.

Dabb: You're never going to have another show like this. You're never gonna have another experience like this. For a lot of different reasons, from how long it ran, from the family that the show became, from the amazing fans that we have. [Footage of us] From the emotional investment people can put in over 15 years of their lives.

Some started watching this when they were in high school, when they were 15, they're 30 now, they might have kids. That's their- that's like half their life. They've been with this show. You're not gonna have that again. Shows just aren’t gonna run this long, especially genre shows, but I don't know that I'm ever gonna do anything else in my career that I'm gonna be more proud of than having been involved in this show.

Jared: The things that stick out are just how important it is to keep putting one foot in front of the other. And keep on working and wake up every day and treat it like it could be your last and- and if you make it out the other side, you'll be happy and proud of what you did.

Jensen: The crew had packed up, they had cleared the bridge, and they were all starting to, you know, load their trucks and get moving. And Jared and I just kind of hung back, and we just took a moment. I looked at him and I said, “I’m proud of us, man. I'm proud of what we've done.”

We know that that's the collective we, that is everyone that is involved, that is- you know from the top down. You know, for our portion, for what we contributed to this monster of the show, he and I reflected on that, and still able to see and smell the roses.

#supernatural #spn #spnfamily #spn family #spn 15.20 #spn s15 #spn s15 spoilers #carry on #spn finale #spn spoilers #sam winchester #dean winchester #jared padalecki #jensen ackles #brotherlylove #sam&dean #brothers man #bts #actor opinions

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billyhargrovebabe · 3 years

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Thank youuu for the tag!! @lovebillyhargrove 💞💞💞 I love reading everyone’s pieces!!

WIP TAG GAME

Rules: Share the latest line however much you want from your work in progress and then tag as many people as there are words in the line as you want.

I’ve got about a hundred half-written Harringrove pieces bc I have commitment issues apparently lol. I also hate my writing but that’s besides the point…

Anyways… here’s one.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Steve knew it was his fault.

The last time he and Billy had been together, he had said the word — blurted it out when their skin was flushed together.

He's in love with Billy Hargrove. Had told Billy so much himself.

And Billy had just gone rigid beneath him, his bright eyes fading into something reserved, something Steve hadn't understood as he pulled himself up from the blond's chest, stricken with panic.

"I'm not— I didn't..."

Billy never responded, not really. He hadn't said those words back, he had just said shut up, pretty boy, and pulled him back down to his body, pressing his lips to Steve's blazing cheek.

He hadn't seen Billy since then, after he had vomited his feelings at the poor guy, when they weren't even official. He knew he was the reason Billy had just disappeared — scared of commitment, not feeling the same way, blah, blah.

It’s been a month. A whole ass month. No golden curls or baby blues in sight.

And sure, he’d noticed the bruises now and then, dusted across Billy’s ribs or occasionally his face, but he’d never thought anything of them other than Billy being Billy. He liked to fight, whether it be Tommy H or some nameless stranger on the other side of town. Billy came with bruises — that was just Billy.

Except he storms into Hopper’s office, ignoring Flo’s protests about it being too early, that the chief’s having his coffee time, and slams the door shut behind him.

“How has a teenager being missing for over a month and you’ve not done a damned thing about it?!” He spits out, not bothering to sit in the chair opposite Hop, that he gestures to.

Hop drinks his coffee so scalding hot that the steam escapes his mouth, blinks sluggishly, and says nothing but a grumpy, “Huh?”

And Steve wants to shout, to scream, why does nobody give a fuck about Billy?! Instead, he stares down the older man with narrowed eyes.

“Billy. Billy Hargrove. He’s been gone an entire month to the day. He could be dead for all I know! And you— you’ve just sat around drinking coffee and eating donuts!”

Hopper sends him this calculated look as he sets his giant mug down on the wooden desk top. Steve’s expecting something — an excuse, a lie — but he’s met with the smoke of the cigarette Hopper plucks from his breast pocket and lights up instead.

He slams a hand down on the desk, the coffee mug jumping at the impact. “There's a loving family back at home for him, who you told there was nothing you could do to find him! What excuse for a chief are you, Hopper?!"

The older man, calmer than a dove floating in the wind, rises to his feet. He yanks open his top drawer, empties the contents on the desk in front of him. Spreads the small squares across the glossy surface.

Steve furrows his brows, seeing the polaroids Hop was spreading out in front of him. He leans closer.

“Does it look like this kid is from a loving family, Steve?”

The smoke he huffs out is sour in Steve’s nostrils, knocks his stomach queasy and leaves a sour taste in his mouth. It sours more when he picks up the first of many and eyes it carefully.

Billy.

He’s looking away from the camera, baby blues focused on the floor, with a bloody and bruised face. One of his arms is held close to his chest, bent at an ungodly angle and his t-shirt is stained, soaked in several places, notably from his dripping nose.

Steve’s stomach violently lurches.

“The kid’s lucky to be alive if I’m being damn honest.”

He picks up another, sees a trail of marks stomped into Billy’s ribs, skin broken in some places and swollen. Blood is etched across his chest, trailing down his neck.

The next is a close up of his face. His bright blue eyes behind splats of bruising, one eye almost closed off entirely as he stares directly into the camera. And his lips — those soft lips that Steve knew well — were cracked with bloodstained teeth poking from behind.

There was still maybe half a dozen more.

He’s never felt so dumb in his life. Being a kid who’s parents were distant to him entirely and permanently disproving of him, he should have spotted the signs. Billy’s dad was a cold-blooded abuser.

The date printed in the corner of each square makes his breath catch in his lungs, that night. The one where Billy fled in the middle of the night after Steve confessed his love for him. He probably got caught sneaking in by his dad because Steve couldn’t keep his stupid mouth shut.

“Not convinced? Take a look at the damned report." Hopper jerks, flops down this thick file that claps against the wood of the desk and sends the polaroids flying.

Steve reaches for it, flips it open with a harsh swallow past the lump in his throat.

William 'Billy' Hargrove described the assault against him by his father after coming home late at night. He says he was pushed to the floor and landed on his arm. His father then proceeded to inflict more damage to his body — specifically using the force of his boots against Billy's ribs. Billy explained how the injuries to his face came after his father had picked him up from the floor by his collar, and verbally assaulted him. Finally, Billy left their family home and drove off in his car, to which he was met by Chief Jim Hopper less than an hour later.

His heart thunders in his chest. If he had known— he would’ve done something about the bruises earlier. He would have told Hopper or… shit, he would have even given Billy a key to his house to keep him away from his dad.

“That's no loving family, Steve.”

“I didn’t know,” he confesses to the older man. He lets out a shaky breath, wills the tears in his eyes to stay put. “Is he okay?”

Hop grunts. “He’s fine. He’s safe now.”

“Where is he?”

“That I can’t tell you just yet — for his protection and for the sake of the case. I’m working on the case day and night to get the kid’s old man behind bars. And before you start— he doesn’t appreciate being kept away from everyone either. Especially you.” Hop points his burning smoke pointedly at Steve, his cheeks burn instantly.

“Here…” The older man scribbles on one of his notepads, tears the sheet off before handing it to Steve. “One phone call a day, alright? That’s it.”

Steve nods immediately, catches sight of Hopper’s phone sat on the desk.

“Nuh-uh. You can use your own landline, kid. Don’t want you blocking up my line all the time.”

“Yeah, yeah. Thanks, Hop.” Steve spins on the spot, heads for the door with a rush in his steps. He needs to get home and to dial the number, needs to apologise and maybe tell Billy he loves him again now that he’s safe.

“And remember— one call a day only!”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Polaroids will forever be one of my favourite prompts for these boys… this one just went a different way to usual? Don’t hate me lol.

Steve’s an oblivious bean, a little dumb too… but that’s okay — he figures it out eventually. Also, I think y’all can kinda guess where Billy is, no?

Tags:

Everyone who made it this far, this is my personal nomination for you to participate!!

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x steve harrington #billy x steve #billy/steve #steve harrington #harringrove #harringrove fics #angsty #mentions of abuse #Steve is oblivious #jim hopper

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galacticjava · 4 years

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so I know it's 2021 and death note aint exactly poppin anymore but let me say something here

one thing I love about death note that makes me both happy and sad is the fact that we are never shown how light actually is outside of the death note's influence. we see him for like twenty seconds before he picks up the death note, which is heavily, HEAVILYYYY implied to be cursed (Ryuk saying every human who's met with it has led a life of misfortune, light being DRASTICALLY different during yotsuba, it being said that the note makes people use it, etc)

so that gives people a LOT of wiggle room when writing light in fanfic. and that's fun and fine and good, but can I say that I am tired,,,, 🤌TIRED🤌 of seeing light just be actin exactly the same even when he's written as never even having touCHEd the death note

I GET IT, ITS YALLS AU AND YALL CAN WRITE WHATEVER U WANT HOWEVER U WANT!!!!!! it is yours to do with as u PLEASE 💕😤💕

But mannn my favorite light is a warm light. I rly like imagining light as being just as charming when he's himself as when he's Kira, BUT Real Light runs out of socially smooth, scripted things to say after about an hour, and eventually drifts into Dork Mode where he ends up talking about all this nerdy shit he's actually into (",,,,,,,,,,,,,,, have you heard of sanpaku eyes? I don't know how much merit it actually holds, but it's still an interesting observation. it means 'three whites' and it's in reference to how a lot of psychopaths have the top or bottom white of their eye visible around their iris--" "okay light")

more headcanons I have for my lil version of Actual Light I've created in my head:

• surprisingly funny and usually out of nowhere

• makes fun of L for being a "homeschooler" and how it explains a lot

• v close with sayu. plays wii and Pokémon with her and they go on morning jogs together before school while light quizzes her with unnecessarily complicated versions of her study guide to get a laugh in before breakfast

• much closer with his mom than he is with his dad. knows how to and is adept at sewing, cooking, and cleaning. I like to think his mom knew he Wasn't Straight Very Early On and they both know it but light still hasn't said anything out loud to her yet. they love each other v v much

• got his first and only failing grade when he was 14 just bc he forgot to do it. keeps a planner now and writes absolutely everything in it. L thinks it's funny bc light's so, so smart but he's also so forgetful. also forgets to eat all the time

• doesn't have any real friends and never has. really adept at socializing for a little while, but runs out of socially smooth things to say after about an hour, and that's kept him from making genuine friends bc no one else rly wants to talk about black holes or unsolved murders. has One Friend at To-Oh that sits next to him, and it's bc she listens to true crime podcasts and is rly interested in unsolved murders. that's it

• going off that, I also like to imagine light being really reALLY interested in L when he first meets him, not even romantically or anything. just bc hes never met anyone on his same wavelength and it's so cathartic just to sit and talk to L and not have to wait or slow down, bc L already knows what he's saying and what he means. loves playing chess as expected, but also loves playing "guess who" with L once they're good enough friends for a while to get there. they make up questions like "do they look like they wake up at 4:30 am every day and drink lemon water while they run before the sun is up" "yes" *flips down seven tabs*

• I see light as a heavy iced coffee drinker. not even bc he needs it to wake up or anything but just bc he likes the constant light buzz throughout the day, and it also helps him stay focused on everyday things that would otherwise bore him and make his mind wander. mans likes iced caramel macchiatos. eet eez what eet eez and it makes sense in my head

• don't clown me but y'all know how every lil genius in death note has their favorite snacks. aight so lights is fresh sliced oranges. mans could eat a whole bag by himself in an hour. I will not elaborate

• always does dress nice yeah, like Kira!Light, but also comfortably and sometimes like he's 45. Has never worn a pair of acidwash jeans in his life. Khakis or joggers 24/7, and the occasional slim fit dark jeans. has 20 cardigans. one pair of high top white vans, one pair of dark grey low top vans, and the rest would all qualify as business casual. doesn't know what a flip-flop is and will cut you off if he hears you say it

• loves cats and really wants one but soichiro doesn't want animals in the house. light secretly feeds a cat that comes to his windowsill every day and has named it "Mao" bc of its obnoxious meow. was once caught meowing at Mao to come closer by sayu walking home and she snapchatted it to him. sayu starts feeding Mao and scritching his ears while light goes to cram school

• openly likes tally hall, joji, mother mother, and glass animals. secretly likes ariana grande and lizzo. blares them in the car with sayu

• typical gifted kid piano player. soichiro signed him up for piano lessons upon learning light was gifted when he was young. uses his skills now to make piano renditions of cardi b songs

• sometimes bakes obsessively when stuck on something. during the Kira case, L walks in the headquarter's kitchen at 2 am to find a very tired looking watari and 16 apple crisps on the counter with light cutting out intricate dough shapes to decorate the tops. they meet eyes once light notices him and stay Silent for a minute. light says he can't get off the idea that it has to be supernatural, as silly as it sounds, because causing heart attacks in such a controlled manner is impossible. there's no way otherwise. L says he was starting to reluctantly think the same thing, but didn't want to overlook anything before he settled on that. they nod to themselves and light goes back to cutting out shapes. L grabs a plate of beignets light made a couple hours earlier and turns back around to walk out

well that's it. thanks for coming to my death note Ted talk

#death note #death note in 2021 ur readin that right #light yagami #I said the REAL light yagami #perfection #l lawliet #kind of #lawlight

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marwritesgood · 4 years

Text

Rewrite | M. Martinez

Pairing: Mario x Diaz!Reader

Timeframe: Season 3

Summary: As life with their newborn becomes increasingly difficult, Mario and Y/n stop seeing each other eye-to-eye (and other stuff happens).

masterlist

A/N: (This is one of the longest things I’ve ever written (I actually had to cut it down and group some paragraphs together bc it exceeded the limit), but I couldn’t help myself. I really enjoyed exploring the dynamics between the characters and all the themes that came with it. To keep it from dragging on, I condensed the canon timeline and changed some details around - hopefully it’s easy to keep up with x

It had been a month since the birth of my and Mario’s son, Manuel. What I had expected to be the beginning of the happiest chapter of my life turned out to be quite the opposite. And it had nothing to do with the people around me or my son.

Mario’s family were so supportive of us. Abuelita insisted we stay with her until we had the funds to get a place of our own. Both her and Geny were constantly offering to babysit Manuel, which I took up almost all the time, much to Mario’s dismay. Even Oscar tried to pull money together every other week to help us out. I should have been nailing this whole motherhood thing in theory because I had so much support from everyone I loved. In reality, however, I was struggling to get by.

“And you’re sure you fed him before you left for work?” I was on the phone with Mario as I pulled up at Oscar’s house. When it came to getting out and taking the buckles off Manuel’s car seat, I pressed my phone against my ear, using my shoulder. “The one I put on the counter, right?”

“Yes,” Mario replied, his aggravation vividly clear in his tone. I had to stop for a moment to try and keep myself from crying. I had been doing a lot of that lately at the worst times, and I couldn’t understand why. When I didn’t respond, Mario sighed loudly. “Look, babe, you can’t keep calling me when I’m at work... I’m new to the job, and I’m already on my boss’ bad side.”

I inhaled sharply. He was right.

“I’m sorry,” I said quietly, trying to control the way my voice sounded so Mario wouldn’t be any more concerned about me than he already was.

“... I’ll see you when I finish, okay?”

After a short moment, he hung up, and I put my phone in my back pocket, thinking back to the times where he would never end a call without telling me he loved me. I didn’t know if it was because he genuinely didn’t catch on, or he was too eager to leave the conversation, but I needed that reminder now more than ever.

I slung my bag over my shoulder before picking up Manuel’s car seat, where he was fast asleep. After closing and locking the car I was borrowing off of Abuelita, I headed inside Oscar’s house. I hated the days where I was left alone with my son. The days where no one was around to take him off my hands. So on days like these, I would go to Oscar’s house and spend the day there, just so I wouldn’t be left alone with Manuel.

“He sleeping?” Oscar asked after he heard me come in. His back was turned against me, and he was facing the counter where he was making two cups of coffee for both of us.

“Yeah,” I answered, exasperated from carrying my son and my belongings inside. After putting Manuel, who slept quietly in his seat, down on the couch, I joined Oscar, who smiled at the sight of my son sleeping soundly.

“How you been?” Oscar asked, nodding at me as he pushed a mug of coffee in my direction. I hummed as I lifted it up and took a sip. I couldn’t drink coffee as often as I liked since I was breastfeeding, but I saved the few times I did when I went to Oscar’s. He made it the best.

“Good,” I answered, without even pausing to think. Oscar shifted his attention to me and watched as I fiddled with the handle on my mug. I knew he wanted to pry. He wanted to ask me more and more questions until I finally gave him a truthful answer, but I wasn’t ready for that. Fortunately for me, before he could say anything else, Cesar came bursting through the front door, throwing his bag on the ground before approaching Oscar. I held the handle of my mug tightly as I watched him speak.

“There’s a dude posted up outside.”

Oscar got up instantly and walked outside, his gun in his hand, ready to be fired. Cesar followed him, trying to stand next to him as he approached the guy across the street, only to be pushed behind by Oscar. I took the opportunity to peek through the sheets of tin foil Oscar had covering the windows. After squinting my eyes to try and make out the man standing on the other side of the street, a duffle bag by his feet with an oddly familiar stance, I began to piece together who it was.

My father.

Before my brothers could make their way back inside, I took Manuel into my old room, which Oscar left untouched since I had moved out after giving birth. I could faintly make out the sound of their conversation in the living room area, so I took my time putting Manuel and my bag down. When I finally made my way back to where my family were seated, I could see the tension between all of them. My dad and Cesar looked up at me when I walked in, but Oscar remained glaring at Ray.

“Cesar, you need to get to school,” Oscar said flatly.

My little brother lifted his hands in annoyance and immediately looked at me. Often, when Oscar told him to do something he didn’t want to, he would turn to me in hopes that I would say the opposite. It was always that way, never vice versa. But, when it came to either one of our parents, I had to have Oscar’s back.

“Go,” I told him, and he reluctantly picked his bag off the floor. I took his spot on the couch and joined Oscar in, glaring at my dad. He looked no different from the last time he bothered to come around.

“You still in school?”

“I finished over a year ago,” I droned, wanting more than anything to take my son and leave, but I knew I couldn’t leave him alone with Oscar. Not to mention if I did leave, I would have no place to go but back to Abuelita’s place where I would be left alone with Manuel.

“College?”

“Are you kidding me?” I laughed dryly. Oscar shook his head.

My father inhaled slowly, his eyes scanning the room before landing on the corridor that leads to the bedrooms. I felt my heart begin to pound, fearing for where this conversation was heading.

“The baby you took to your room,” he began, confirming what I had already expected. I hadn’t done as good of a job at hiding Manuel as I thought. “... yours?”

I could see Oscar getting angrier and more aggravated by how he clenched his fists and his jaw. He was always protective of Cesar and me when it came to our dad, but it appeared to be tenfold with Manuel. I glanced over at my brother, but he was too busy glaring at Ray to notice. Sighing, I turned back to him and nodded. There was no point in hiding Manuel’s existence from him. That didn’t mean I wouldn’t still try and protect him.

“... The father?”

Ray hesitated before asking. I could tell that, while he was obviously curious to know, he was also cautious that he was digging too deep so suddenly. Oscar huffed, rubbing his hand over his facial hair, clearly annoyed. I felt indifferent.

“Mario Martinez.”

“Martinez?” He raised his eyebrows before pulling his blunt back towards his mouth. After exhaling slowly, releasing a cloud of smoke, he nodded, seemingly impressed. “... Good family.”

“I didn’t ask for your approval,” I scoffed before standing up and turning my back to him. I looked down at Oscar and signalled him to follow me into my old room to have a conversation outside of our father’s earshot.

Once he had followed me inside, I closed the door to ensure privacy before turning back to my son, who was thankfully still fast asleep. I began packing his things up as I spoke to Oscar.

“What are we gonna do?”

After gathering Manuel’s things, I brought the handlebar of his car seat up so I could be ready to take him to the car, through the backdoor, as soon as Oscar and I were finished discussing our next course of action.

“I don’t know,” Oscar sighed as he shoved his hands in his pockets. I sat on my old bed and looked up at him silently. After a moment, he looked back at me. “Cesar wants to... take him out for lunch tomorrow.”

The way Oscar explained, I could tell how immensely uncomfortable he was with the thought of it and with how eager Cesar was to reconcile his relationship with.

“Want me to go with them?” I asked.

He nodded.

I sighed but nodded back. As much as I wanted to avoid having a conversation with my father, let alone sit and have a meal with him, I couldn’t leave Cesar to meet him for lunch on his own. I couldn’t let him get too close and too vulnerable with Ray.

Oscar and I knew better than anyone how that would eventually end.

***

After leaving Oscar’s place, I noticed that Mario’s car was parked outside the building when I got home. Manuel had fallen asleep during the car trip, so I carried him in his car seat inside.

After I took him to his nursery and placed him in his cot, I went back into the kitchen area where Mario was grumbling as he did the dishes. It was getting late, so I assumed he was just tired.

I walked over and stood beside him so I could give him a hand, but he turned to me with furrowed brows before I could do so. My heart began to pound because I knew I had done something to upset him.

“You said you would do the dishes today,” he stated sharply. I sighed before dropping my head down. “It’s so late. Where the hell have you been?”

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled before reaching past him so I could finish washing the rest of the dishes. I hoped that would be enough to defuse the tension, but Mario simply took a step to the side and continued to glare at me as he waited for an explanation. “- I was at Oscar’s, and I lost track of time. My-”

“I don’t care,” he interrupted, the volume of his voice rising abruptly.

Whenever Mario and I fought, he was never the type to yell, no matter how angry he got. I always worried that I would end up pushing him over that edge one day, and it seemed like today was that day.

“Mario,” I whispered, slightly startled by how angry he was getting. There was obviously more to it than just me forgetting to do the dishes.

“I work so hard to support you and Manuel,” he began, his voice growing louder from what appeared to be frustration. “I asked you to do one thing.”

“I know, but-”

I was planning on leaving Oscar’s place early to make it back in time to get all the housework done. When my dad arrived out of the blue, it put a wrench in my plans. Mario cut me off before I could explain that to him.

“And what’s up with you calling me at work all the time?” His expression was saturated with anger. I wondered how long he had bottled up this resentment. “I thought you would be used to taking care of Manuel on your own by now.”

“I’m trying,” I cried in reply. I really was.

“Try harder,” he said in an icy tone, his expression becoming emotionless all of a sudden. I held my breath, trying to suppress my tears. “You shouldn’t be taking Manuel out so late... you need to start being a better mother.”

He turned around and walked into our shared room. Once I was sure he was out of earshot, I turned my attention back to the dishes I was cleaning, trying to keep myself distracted.

When I felt my tears beginning to pour out of my eyes, I knew it wasn’t working.

All of the insecurities I felt about being a new mother were beginning to surface. I wanted desperately to be everything Mario and Manuel needed me to be, but I just felt like I could never be able to do that. And it was killing me inside.

***

The following morning, I woke up extra early. I tried to get as much housework done as possible to give Manuel his second bottle for the day. Normally Mario would because I would be too exhausted too, and because it normally fell around the time, he was set to leave for work.

Since the night before, we hadn’t spoken to each other, so I thought doing that would be a step in the right direction for us. Apparently not.

“What are you doing?” Mario asked, startling me as I tested the temperature of Manuel’s milk on my wrist.

“I was gonna feed Manuel,” I explained.

“But I feed him his second bottle,” Mario said, anger and annoyance both prevalent in his tone and his expression.

“I know,” I replied calmly. This was appearing to have the opposite effect to what I hoped it would; Mario was seemingly getting angrier with me. “I just thought you might want a break from having to feed him this morning.”

“Looking after my son isn’t a burden, Y/n,” he retorted, his voice getting louder with each word he spoke. My eyes grew wide. I didn’t know whether to be startled or offended.

Was he insinuating that I made looking after Manuel seem like a burden?

“I never said that,” I responded.

Just as I finished speaking, the sound of Manuel’s cries sounded throughout the room. Mario turned back to me, holding his hand out so he could take the bottle and feed our son. Not wanting to argue with him, I reluctantly handed it over.

He left for work without saying goodbye to me, even though I stood in the kitchen and watched him go. Normally he would kiss me goodbye before leaving to go anywhere. I knew this was a testament to how angry he was.

Once it was nearing lunchtime, I took Manuel and dropped him off with Geny. When Abuelita saw me crying by the kitchen sink the night before, she sat me on her couch and consoled me. After I explained to her what happened with my dad, she called Geny. At first, she wanted to confront her son about how he spoke to me, but I talked her out of it. After that, she offered to watch Manuel for the afternoon while I went to lunch with Cesar and my dad.

Once I dropped Manuel off to her, I headed to Dwayne’s restaurant, where Cesar and our dad were seated at a booth. As I approached them, Ray sat up uncomfortably.

“Sorry I’m late,” I said as I took a seat next to Cesar, who immediately passed me his plate of fries. I turned to him and smiled, only to be met with a concerned expression.

“You okay?” He asked, knitting his eyebrows out of worry. I had forgotten I spent the night crying and that my eyes were slightly puffy.

“Yeah, I just didn’t get much sleep,” I answered a beat too quickly for Cesar to be convinced. Nonetheless, I knew he would look past it so he could continue catching up with our father.

“I was just telling Cesar how good it is he has a job,” my dad said, as he took a bite of the food Cesar undoubtedly got him with his employment perk.

“Yeah, Dwayne’s always been good to me,” Cesar explained, smiling nervously as he fiddled with his fingers. It was endearing and concerning the way he was so anxious he was acting like an overexcited child. “Even when things got hard.”

I placed my hand on him should and gripped it tightly. Cesar was one of the more emotional ones of the Diaz men, but that didn’t mean he was always upfront with how he felt.

“I heard about your mom,” our dad said, looking up at the two of us nervously. I stared blankly at him, trying my best not to glare, but I promised Cesar I wouldn’t be hostile at our lunch. “I should have reached out... I’m sorry.”

I looked over at Cesar, and I could tell he was trying his best to maintain his smile. I was the only person he had ever spoken to about our mom, but those conversations were infrequent and always emotional.

“You should try the char burger,” I said to our dad before sliding out of the booth, so Cesar could step out. “You’ll like it... Cesar, why don’t you go order one for him.”

He nodded before leaving so he could head towards the counter. I slid back into the booth and glared at my father.

“What’s your deal?” I asked angrily, annoyed that he would bring up such a painful memory for Cesar, let alone myself. “It’s not enough to traumatise us; you have to come back just to pour salt in our wounds?”

“That’s not why I’m here.”

“Then why are you here, huh?” At that point, I was just as curious as I was angry. He had been in and out of prison for over a decade, yet the last time he bothered to stop by, Cesar wasn’t even old enough to form memories.

“I... I wanna patch things up,” he said.

It really took him over two decades to grow a conscience and make an effort in his children’s lives.

“Look,” I whispered before glancing up at Cesar, who was in the process of getting the char burger. I sighed. “Just... tread lightly for now, okay? Cesar wants to catch up with you, not relive his childhood trauma.”

Ray inhaled deeply before nodding. I felt protective over Cesar, but when it came to our parents, this was only heightened. I was not going to let my dad hurt him. Not on my watch. Once Cesar was approaching the table, I slid out so he could sit in his initial spot.

“Where’s Manuel, Y/n?” Cesar asked.

My breath hitched as it dawned on me that I forgot to ask Cesar not to bring him up in front of our dad. Once he mentioned him, however, I knew there was no going back.

“He’s with Geny,” I answered before taking a bite of my plate of fried. Ray watched me intently before speaking up again- exactly what I feared he would do.

“Is there any chance I could meet him?”

I had to physically and figuratively bite my tongue. As much as I wanted to respond snidely, I knew that would only damage my relationship with Cesar- who made me promise that I wouldn’t be hostile at that lunch.

“I’ll think about it,” I replied. Cesar’s expression didn’t seem to change, so I knew I had answered in a way that both kept the peace and ensured I could continue to control how much of a role my dad would have in my son’s life- which, if it were up to me, would be minuscule.

Just as the conversation headed towards a different, much safer direction, my phone began to vibrate.

After I excused myself from the table, I went outside the building and answered the call.

It was Mario.

“Why does my mom have Manuel?” His tone was accusatory and angry. That seemed to be the case for all of our conversations.

“I’m at lunch-“

“You left Manuel so you could go for lunch?!”

“It was important, Mario.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He was speaking so loudly, I had to hold my phone at a distance away from my ear. “What kind of a mother are you? What could be more important than our son?”

My breath hitched, but I tried to recover quickly. Nothing was more important to me than Manuel, but I needed Mario to know that I wasn’t avoiding my responsibilities as a mother for something trivial.

“I’m at lunch with my dad,” I explained, trying to speak as quickly as possible so he wouldn’t have the chance to interrupt.

“... You’re dad’s back in town?” I was relieved that he was calming down, finally understanding why I was too preoccupied to have Manuel with me at all times.

“Yes,” I answered, trying to keep my tone neutral despite how much I was on the verge of tears. “- but don’t worry. I’ll pick up Manuel... I know I need to start being a better mother.”

I made it a point to use Mario's exact phrasing when he scolded me the night before. Just as he began spluttering a response, I hung up the phone.

***

It had been a week since I met Cesar and Ray for lunch. I hadn’t heard from either of them nor Oscar until I was on my way to picking up Cesar. Normally he preferred to make his own way home, but he had plans to meet with Ruby and wanted me to give him a ride. Just as I pulled up in front of Dwayne’s barbecue joint, my phone began to ring. As soon as I answered it, the sound of my older brother’s voice sounded throughout my car. Needless to say, he was angry about something.

“Did you know he got him a job?”

There it was.

“Huh?” I answered, completely taken back by what he had said. I suspected he was talking about Ray, but for Cesar’s sake, I hoped he wasn’t. “- what are you talking about, Oscar?”

“Cesar got the viejo a fucking job,” he yelled, his voice growing louder and angrier with every word he spoke. “- what happened to keeping an eye on him?

“I-i had to leave early,” I sighed. “Cesar must’ve talked to Dwayne after I left.”

“Well, great fucking job, y/n,” Oscar retorted. I could feel the pace of my heartbeat quickening the louder and madder he got. I felt overwhelmed. “You were supposed to make sure Cesar didn’t get too close to him; now they’re workmates.

“Look, I know you’re mad, but could you stop yelling at me?!” My voice shook as I spoke, and I felt my eyes water and hands shake. I didn’t know what was coming over me, but I had no control over it. “- I have enough people telling me I’ve fucked up. I don’t need that shit from you.”

There was silence for a prolonged moment, and I groaned quietly. I didn’t mean to overshare, but it was too late to take it back. I didn’t want Oscar to worry about me more so than he already did.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled quickly. “... you alright?”

“I’m good,” I replied, even though he and I both knew I was far from it. Nonetheless, I wanted to end our conversation as swiftly as possible. The longer I stayed on the line, the more I feared he would pry into what was going on with me. “- Don’t worry... Look, I know it’s messy, but there’s nothing we can do without hurting Cesar. We just gotta wait it out and see how it goes.”

After agreeing to do so, Oscar hung up, and I finally made my way inside. My dad was wearing an apron and stood by the front counter. It eerily reminded me of the times he would cook for my brothers and me when we were kids, that is, in between the times he abandoned us and showed up when he needed a place to crash. When the doorbell rang as I walked in, he looked over to me and smiled. I almost didn’t want to glare at him.

“Hola mija,” he greeted as he approached me. I hated to admit it, but I could see how hard he was trying to be an accomodating host. “Can I get you a menu?

“No,” I replied, shaking my head. “- no, I’m just here to pick up Cesar. He said he needed me to give him a ride somewhere.

“He’s in the back,” Ray replied, nodding towards the entrance to the storeroom. “I think he’ll be out soon.”

“So,” I began, trying to fill the awkward silence. Though I still had 19 years worth of resentment towards him, I wanted to be civil. “You’re working here now, huh?”

It felt strange talking to my father like this. The last time he was around, I was around Cesar’s age. Now, we were making small talk like the two adults we were. It felt uncomfortable because part of me still felt like the girl I was when he left, the girls who had been hurting for almost 10 years because of what he did.

“Yeah, it’s nice... Dwayne’s a good boss.”

“Yeah,” I smiled in agreement. Mr Turner was one of the kindest people I knew. Whenever I came into his restaurant after school, he always made sure I left with an empty stomach even if I didn’t have any money. Now, he was doing the same for my little brother. “He’s always been good to Cesar.”

Just as I turned to call Cesar to come out from the storeroom, my dad spoke up, causing me to turn my heel back and face him. He seemed hesitant, which was a strange sight. I remembered him being certain of everything he did.

“Hey, um,” his nervousness was heavily prevalent in his voice. I tried to prepare myself for what he was about to say, knowing it would have a significant impact. “- I know you said we could talk about it later... but I really wanna meet my grandson.”

I inhaled sharply. Of all the things he could have said, I was not expecting him to bring up Manuel. Considering his track record, I assumed he would be gone before my son crossed his mind again. He seemed to prove me wrong.

“- I know, you have every right to say no,” he added, in a tone I could only assume, and hope was sincere. “- I was a horrible father to you... but I’m hoping I can be a good abuelo... if you give me a chance.”

“I don’t know...” I sighed. I still felt uncertain about my dad and his agenda. I felt uncertain that he changed enough to be sincere, let alone enough to have a place in my son’s life.

Although he was Manuel’s grandfather, and nothing I could do would ever change that, I had control over who came and left my son’s life. I would not let him in without confirmation that he was better, that he had changed.

“I understand,” he answered.

The two of us stood in awkward silence for a minute or so before Cesar entered the dining area, his backpack clutched in his hand. He seemed concerned by the way my father and I were standing, the tension between us physically apparent just as it was figuratively.

“Hey, you ready to go?” I smiled as I turned to face my little brother. I didn’t want him to worry any more than he already did.

Cesar nodded, drawing his attention away from the tension between our father and I. Just as we were about to turn and leave, Ray pulled out a brown to-go bag from behind the counter.

“Here, mijo, I got you something,” he said as he handed the bag to Cesar, who was taken aback but smiled nonetheless. “I noticed you didn’t have anything to eat when you were on your break.”

I glanced back at Cesar, who seemed grateful. Often when he had a lot on his mind or a lot on his plate, it was easy for him to forget to do important things like getting something to eat. Moreover, when Cesar did realise what he had forgotten, he would often try to hide it. It took a bit of paying attention before Oscar, and I picked up on it. I was impressed that my dad managed to do so in just a day.

“Do you need a ride?” I asked my dad, who shook his head and smiled.

“No, I’ll be okay. I still have a few more hours to go.”

“... Are you working tomorrow?”

“No,” he answered. I could tell he was worried about where my subtle interrogation was headed.

“Okay,” I smiled, knowing what I would say would make him happy. “Come by my place tomorrow morning... You can meet your grandson then.”

He grinned as he inhaled deeply. I smiled weakly before placing my hand on Cesar’s shoulder and walking out of the restaurant, hoping with all my heart that I wasn’t making a mistake.

***

My dad arrived at my doorstep the next morning, almost half an hour before the time we agreed upon. He tried to hide it when I greeted him, but I knew how happy he was that he was finally getting the chance to meet his grandson.

“Where’s Mario?” Ray asked nonchalantly as I led him to Manuel’s nursery.

“He’s working,” I answered shortly, not allowing my dad the chance to pry. “Just watch your step when you come in. There’s lots of toys lying around.”

I smiled wearily at my son as I carefully picked him up from his bed. I was getting more confident in holding him, but I still felt scared every time I did. As I cradled him in my arms, I looked over to my dad, who had carefully navigated his way through the array of baby toys on the ground.

“Here,” I said softly, as I slowly moved towards him, carefully transferring my son from my arms and into his. Watching him cradle his grandson so carefully and with so much concern made me smile. “His name’s Manuel.”

“Manuel,” he repeated, smiling as my son continued to sleep soundly in his arms. I couldn’t help but smile. This was a side of my dad I forgot existed. He shook his head as he continued to grin down at Manuel. “... que lindo.”

I turned away and began folding Manuel’s freshly washed clothes away. As I pulled open one of the drawers, I looked down and saw my dad’s duffel bag in the corner of my eye; fully packed and discarded by the door. That’s when I began to piece together why he wanted to meet my son so soon. I pushed the drawer shut slowly before turning to back to my dad, who was still oblivious to what I had figured out.

“You’re leaving?” I asked, glancing pointedly at the bag he left by the door.

He slowly turned around, carefully placing Manuel back in his cot, before turning back to me. When he didn’t say anything- only nodded guiltily as he shoved his hand in his back pocket, I wanted to scream.

“Why?” I questioned, trying to understand why he was choosing to leave again, especially after reconciling with Cesar and finding out he has a grandson. Did those things mean nothing to him? Did we mean nothing to him?

He glanced back at Manuel before leading me into the living room, knowing that I wasn’t gonna be quiet. I closed the door behind me and began scolding my dad.

“Can’t ever think about anyone but yourself,” I shouted in frustration. I had really hoped he changed. “This is gonna break Cesar, but you don’t give a shit about that, do you?”

“Mija-”

“-And what about trying to patch things up, huh?” I wasn’t going to let him speak. Not until I got what I needed to say off my chest. I didn’t get to do that the last time he walked out, and I had regretted it ever since. “How do you think they’re gonna react when you tell them?”

When my dad stood silent, eyes falling to the ground, I stumbled back.

“What, you’re dumping that on me too?”

Silent filled the air for a prolonged moment. I glared at my father, bewildered by what he was doing and how little regard his plan had for me and how I would be affected. He looked like he was about to speak.

“I’ll call Cesar when I get to Bakersfield,” he said as if that solved the issue. “Oscar... he’ll come around, but... he’s gotta let go of that rage-”

“- Stop,” I hissed, holding my hand up and shaking my head angrily. I began to regret ever inviting him inside. “You don’t get to do that... You don’t get to come here and try and tell us what’s wrong with us- You’re what’s wrong with us.”

“Mija-”

“And would you stop calling me that,” I snapped, raising my voice louder, although Manuel was sleeping in the room. “I stopped being anyone’s hija the day I had to start being a mother to a kid that wasn’t even mine.”

I glared at my father, who stood silent. My eyebrows knitted together as I continued to shout at him.

“And now... I finally get the chance to raise my own, but I’m too scared to be left alone with him in case I end up exactly like you. A deadbeat.”

My father looked taken aback by my outburst but remained silent, nodding his head only slightly, showing he acknowledged the truth in what I was saying, or rather screaming, at him. I breathed heavily, tears brimming in my eyes as I felt my throat begin to close up.

“Everything bad that’s happened to me is because of you,” I cried, my voice beginning to crack. Before I could continue speaking, I inhaled sharply, my breath beginning to stutter. “I can’t even look at my son without thinking of all the ways I could end up failing him as you did to me.”

His eyebrows rose before furrowing in sympathy. Before I could even think of stopping him, he pulled me into his arms and hugged me tightly. I couldn’t help but sob quietly. I had craved a hug from my dad for most of my childhood.

I wish he hadn’t waited so long to give me one.

***

Fortunately, not long after Ray left, Abuelita arrived home. After explaining to her what had happened, she happily agreed to stay with Manuel so I could go and break the news to my brothers. So I got my things together in haste and drove as quickly as I could to Oscar’s house.

After knocking on the front door and being let in by Oscar himself, I sat at the table and waited. My brother had our traditional mugs of coffee at hand and sat opposite me. He immediately noticed my puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

“What happened?” He asked softly, watching me intently as I fought back the tears while trying to piece together an explanation. He leaned forward and clutched the handle of his mug. “You and Mario fight again?”

I shook my head quickly. Staring down at my mug, I sighed deeply. The longer I waited to tell him, the harder it would eventually be. There was no point in beating around the bush.

“Ray left,” I stated. Oscar inhaled sharply, clicking his jaw as he turned his head away from me. I couldn’t bear to look up at him, so I sat in silence. Whatever he wanted to get off his chest, I would let him.

“Cesar’s gonna be crushed,” he sighed. He and I both knew that more than anyone. Even though he knew that our parents basically left us with no choice but to sacrifice our youth and dreams to support Cesar, he still yearned to have a relationship with them. If only he knew how painful it was.

“Hey,” I whispered, causing Oscar to finally look me in the eye.

I could see his eyes glistening. Though his first concern was how Cesar would be affected, I could tell that he was just as impacted. We both let our guards down when Ray accepted the job at Dwayne’s business. We both secretly hoped he would stay this time.

“I’ll tell him,” I insisted. Oscar sat up, ready to disagree, but I spoke before he could say anything. “- he made you break the news to us the last time he left. I’m not gonna let you go through that again.”

My voice began to crack. Oscar furrowed his eyebrows in concern, but I had already made my mind up.

“He’s gonna take it out on you,” Oscar said, in an attempt to get me to leave the burden with him, but I refused. I shook my head.

“Let him,” I replied shortly.

Cesar was a wild card when it came to things like this. When Oscar delivered the bad news, Cesar would respond by either breaking down or shoving our brother. Sometimes he would even punch the nearest wall. When it was me, however, Cesar typically responded by saying awful things. Things he didn’t mean. Often he would accompany such words with a shove or two.

I knew that this was a big one, though.

So I tried to prepare myself for anything. Maybe Cesar was gonna say something awful to me in retaliation. Maybe he was just gonna break down in tears. Maybe he was gonna react in an unprecedented way. Regardless, I was willing to take whatever. For Oscar and I, this was yet another time one of our parents let us down. For Cesar, this was the first time he got to develop a relationship with either one of them, and so the first time, he was gonna be disappointed so severely.

About an hour later, after Oscar and I finished our coffee and sat silently on the couch, Cesar came home from school. Noticing how quiet we were, he immediately figured out that something wasn’t right.

“What’s going on?” Cesar asked hesitantly, noting how Oscar and I were staring at him as he walked in with such intent and concern. He glanced down the hall before looking back at the two of us. “Where’s Ray?”

I had done so much crying; I was convinced that I had no more tears left. Yet, when Cesar spoke, I felt my eyes being glazed over again. I looked over at Oscar, who offered a nod of encouragement.

“Cesar, c’mere... Ray left,” I explained painfully, not having enough courage to look at my little brother as I spoke.

“What?” Cesar was already beginning to shout, and I didn’t blame him. I inhaled sharply while looking up at the ceiling, trying to pull myself together so I could be there for him in whatever way he needed me to be. “He wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye.”

“He did.”

Cesar sighed, his eyebrows knitting as he processed the bad news. His eyes quickly darkened, and he immediately turned to Oscar.

“What did you do?”

“He didn’t do anything,” I said before Oscar could chime in. I held my hand out and gently pushed Cesar back after he stepped towards our brother. “I was the last one he talked to, okay? I only just told Oscar before you got home.”

“Well, what did you say, then?”

“Cesar,” I sighed. I had little to no energy left, let alone enough to argue with my little brother. “He was never sticking around... He showed up with his duffel bag already packed.”

“What, you didn’t try to talk him out of it? You just let him go?”

“I’m not responsible for what he decides, Cesar.” My frustration grew exceedingly as I spoke. “He’s a grown man. I shouldn’t have to talk him out of abandoning his children... again.”

Cesar turned away, confirming to me that he knew I was right. I sighed, thinking the worst of our argument was over, but that’s when Cesar spoke again.

“I bet this makes you happy,” he muttered. “You and Oscar couldn’t wait to get rid of him.”

“Happy?... You think I’m happy?” I repeated, furrowing my brows as I stared down at my little brother. Of all the stupid things he’d said to me in his lifetime, this was an all-time low. “Are you fucking kidding me? Cesar, I’m your sister... but for most of your life, I’ve been your mom... If you’re gonna yell at someone, get on the next bus to Bakersfield and go yell at him. He’s the one who left. He’s the one who ruined our lives.”

“Ray didn’t ruin my life,” Cesar muttered quietly, shaking his head and laughing dryly, before looking up at me with a scowl. “You did.”

Oscar stood up and placed himself in between Cesar and me. He held his arms up in an attempt to get Cesar to back down but to no avail.

“Cesar, that’s enough,” he warned, facing our little brother, who shoved back every time Oscar tried to push him away. Cesar was adamant about getting the last word, but Oscar continued to try and keep him back. “Ces- Cesar, that’s enough.”

“No, you know what?”

Cesar fought free from Oscar’s grip and immediately finished what he started.

“Everything bad that’s happened to me is because of you,” Cesar spat, glaring at me with such passionate anger, I almost didn’t recognise my little brother. “Manuel’s gonna need all the luck he can get with a mother like you.”

My mouth slowly fell agape, and my breath hitched. I could hear Cesar breathe heavily from all the yelling. He glared at me, almost as if he knew how much he was hurting me, but he didn’t seem to care. He stormed out of the house before Oscar could begin scolding him for taking it too far. So instead, he watched my reaction intently, ready to console me if I needed to break down after what Cesar had just said.

“Y/n, he didn’t mean that,” Oscar reasoned, taking note of the way my eyes glistened and how hard I was biting my bottom lip, something I only ever did to keep myself from crying.

I nodded, even though I was finding it increasingly difficult to believe. Everything I had suspected of myself. All of the fears I had about being an actual mother for the first time. Cesar’s words were making me confirm it.

I grabbed my bag off the floor and began heading for the door, despite Oscar’s attempts at calling out to me. I had to leave. I couldn’t face either one of my brothers. And, at that point, I couldn’t even face my son. I began driving around the block before finding an empty parking lot to stop at. There, I sat in silence for a few hours, trying to process everything that had happened since the morning.

***

I had been sitting in the parking lot for a few tens of minutes. Most of that time, I spent sobbing. It felt like all of the responsibilities I had spent the past few weeks and months, and years of my life carrying toppled over and crushed me in the process.

The part that hurt the most was how much I tried to do my best. I tried to be the best mother to Manuel. I tried to be the best sister to Cesar. I tried to be the best partner to Mario. Yet, it seemed like no matter how hard I tried, I still wasn’t enough.

In the midst of my emotional breakdown, a loud tap sounded throughout my car. I looked and gasped when I saw Mario standing outside my door with a worried expression. In all honesty, it never crossed my mind that someone would care enough to come and find me.

After I unlocked the doors, he sat in the passenger’s seat. He watched me intently as I wiped my tears away and tried to compose myself.

“Oscar and Abuelita told me what happened,” he whispered before slowly reaching out his hand and taking hold of mine. We had somewhat reconciled the last time we fought, but there was still tension between us. I was grateful he was taking the first step towards fixing it- goodness knows I was not in a position to be able to. “... Please talk to me.”

At first, I couldn’t even bring myself to look at him. I felt an array of shame and embarrassment. Mario noticed this and responded by gently placing his hands on the sides of my face. He knew I loved it when he did that. I eventually looked up at him, and he just smiled as he waited patiently for me to speak.

“I-I,” I bowed my head for a moment to try and muster the energy to finish my sentence. Mario placed his hand on mine and gently squeezed it reassuringly. “I thought he was gonna stay this time... He kept asking to meet Manuel, and he got a job, and I... I thought it would be different this time.”

Mario nodded but remained silent. Before we began dating, we were childhood friends. He was there all the times my dad left before. He knew how much this was hurting me.

“And I’m so scared,” I cried, trying not to choke on my words. “I’m so scared I’m gonna fuck up my kids’ lives the way he has mine and my brothers’... I don’t wanna break Manuel.”

“Hey,” Mario whispered, taking hold of the side of my face and looking up at me with concern-filled eyes. “You’re not gonna break, Manuel... He and I are so lucky to have you.”

I sniffled as I turned away. I didn’t believe him, and Mario could tell. He sighed. I thought then that he would give up on trying to console me and leave, but instead, he continued to look at me, even as I turned away.

“Is that why you call me all the time?” He asked. I didn’t turn back to him, but I could tell from his tone that he was not agitated anymore. He was genuinely concerned. “- ‘cause you feel scared when you’re alone with Manuel?”

I dropped my head and remained silent, which Mario accurately interpreted as a yes. After a moment of silence, he reached for my hand again. This time, I turned to face him.

“I’m so sorry... for everything I said to you,” he whispered, tears brimming in his eyes. It had been a while since I had seen him so vulnerable, which was strange considering how emotional Mario was. “Ever since I started my job, I’ve just been really stressed... I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. That will never happen again.”

“I shouldn’t have annoyed you so much,” I muttered. I couldn’t help but feel guilty that Mario was apologising to me when he was obviously under a lot of pressure. “You work so hard for us, I shouldn’t be making things worse-”

“Baby, you don’t,” he responded. I began to smile through my tears because he was using a term of endearment for the first time in a while rather than just simply calling me by my name. “You don’t... I’m sorry I made you feel like you do... How about, from now on, you text me when you have a question about Manuel, or when you start to feel overwhelmed, or even when you just want to talk. I can’t promise I’ll always be able to talk, but I’ll respond to you as soon as I can.”

“Okay,” I whispered, smiling at him as I nodded. I felt so relieved that he understood what I was going through. Mario leaned close to me and kissed my temple softly before looking me in the eye, his hands finding their way back to the sides of my face. He could tell something was still on my mind.

“You’re nothing like him, Y/n,” he murmured. “He leaves when things get tough... you’ve always stayed... I mean, you’ve taken care of Cesar since he was born... Now you’re taking care of Manuel... and of me.”

I chuckled beneath my breath. When Manuel was first born, Mario joked about how well I took care of them two. I would have had it any other way.

“There’s no one else I’d rather being doing this with,” he said before kissing me softly. I smiled against his lips, and my eyes remained close for a moment even after he pulled away. “Manuel and I are so lucky to have you, Y/n... I love you so much.”

“I’m lucky to have you,” I murmured as I brought my hand up to his jaw, drawing circles on the side of his cheek with my thumb. He smiled, leaning forward and pressing his nose against mine. “I love you.”

It was as if he came at the right time. Just when things began to topple over me, Mario was right there, ready to bear my burdens with me. For the first time in a long time, I felt a wave of peace and calmness wash over me. I knew I had a lot of work to do. I knew Cesar, and I were still on bad terms. But I also knew that so long as I had Mario with me, I would be okay. I would survive whatever other obstacles life threw my way, and it would all be worth it for my son.

He and Mario were more than enough for me.

#mario martinez imagine #mario martinez x reader #mario martinez imagines #on my block imagines #on my block #Oscar Diaz #cesar diaz #ray diaz #mario x reader #Mario Martinez #on my block masterlist #on my block fanfiction

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dalgonachan · 4 years

Text

Lucky Charm

pairing: Jeonghan x reader genre: graduation, fluff warnings: none prompt: jeonghan couldn't imagine a more special graduation gift from you word count: 828 a/n: i was honestly planning a birthday fic for jeonghan bc ya know but i’m still in the midst of writing it hhhhh,,, also im really busy cuz of uni rn so i haven’t continued with it yet. i’ll upload it when i finish tho. so i’m putting this up as like the first half (?) of my present for u guys since it was jeonghan’s birthday 3 days ago. enjoy!! :D

After the ceremony, parents and students flocked around in the lobby of the theater and filled the air with chatter of congratulations to the batch of fresh graduates. You squeezed your way through the crowd to get to your parents who were in search for you through all the buzz.

"There you are!" Your dad exclaims once he catches sight of you approaching.

The moment you're standing right in front of him, he engulfs you into a bone-crushing hug as you plead that you can't breathe. As if to add more inconveniences, once he lets go, he rubs you on the head and dishevels your hair.

"Dad!" You whine, but he only chuckles which prompts you to look at your mother.

There's a pinkish glow at the tip of her nose which you notice, and her eyes are glassy as if she would bawl in front of you any moment if it weren't for all these people around.

"Oh, sweetheart, I'm so proud of you!" She can no longer hold it in as she wraps you in a second bone-crushing hug. "You made it. I love you so much."

"Awww, mom..." you trail off, the bubble of emotions in you ready to, burst. "Please don't cry. You and dad deserve it. Thank you so much."

She sniffles when she lets you go, dabbing her handkerchief at her cheeks streaked with tears. Your dad looks ready to cry as well, making you laugh at the sight of him getting emotional. The state of your parents reminds you how grateful you are to have them and so you lovingly embrace them in your arms.

"Honey, isn't that Jeonghan? Why don't we go over and congratulate him as well?" Your mom says, pointing into the crowd.

It was difficult to tell where she was pointing at though it doesn't take you long to find him amidst the swarming mass of bodies. As if by coincidence, his eyes lock with yours and his lips immediately spread into a wide smile. You mouth at him to stay where he is as you navigate your way through everyone once again, this time leading your parents along with you.

"Jeonghan! Congratulations!" You squealed excitedly, jumping up and down as you wrapped him in your arms. He laughs, reciprocating the action and congratulating you as well.

When both of you let go, his sister and parents bade you the same expression which you respond with thanks. A while after your parents step into the scene, Jeonghan's family have already hit up a conversation with them, their attention no longer on you two.

"Good luck in university," he says with a grin, but you can see his eyes drooping with sadness.

"You're going to miss me, aren't you?" You tease, however the crack in your voice gives away the pain clawing at your heart.

Jeonghan snickers and playfully thrusts your forehead with two fingers. "You bet I'm going to miss you so damn much."

As payback, you pinch him and laugh when he yelps.

"Alright, that's enough," you say to shift the atmosphere between you into a serious one. "I have a gift for you."

Reaching into your pocket, you pull out a chained necklace with a coin-shaped pendant made of resin; a vibrant emerald four-leaf clover surrounded by bits of silver glitter sits inside.

"I made it myself." You hand it over to Jeonghan who admires it in awe.

"I have something for you too, but I left it in the car. Maybe I'll give it to you later," he responds, still admiring the present. "It's beautiful, I love it."

"Look at it closely. It should remind you of something." You tap the pendant and Jeonghan scrunches his eyebrows as he continues to further examine it.

"Wait a minute!" He gasps. "This can't be... Is it the clover I gave you during the first day of classes?"

Astonishment is written all over his face as if it doesn't get through his head that you had preserved the flower all this time. He had not expected to see it once again, moreover, have it in his possession.

"And you're... giving it to me?" His voice is soft, laced in hesitance.

"Consider it a token of our friendship. Besides, it's proven to be an effective lucky charm." You winked an eye at him. "It's time you had your turn with it. You found it first anyway."

"Awww, you're too sweet. This is going to make me miss you awfully a whole lot more." Jeonghan's eyes begin to brim with tears, but he quickly uses the sleeve of his toga to pat them dry. "Thank you. I promise to take care of it."

He unclasps the latch and puts on the necklace. The four-leaf clover pendant dangles in front of his chest as it innocently glints in the light. Once more you embrace, this time with a grasp so tight as if you had no intention of letting go.

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sunflowerhae · 4 years

Text

Lifeboat

N.J (2k)

A/N• this is purely indulgent. It also has quite heavy themes, but at this point are any of us surprised. I want to make something clear, the reader doesn’t do what she does bc of what happens with her and Jaemin (I’m trying not to spoil). I mean, that’s just a tip of the iceberg type situation. That being said, if you are having similar thoughts as our dear reader, please call your countries suicide hotline, and/or talk to someone you trust in your life. ALSO, I am not trying to romanticize any of the topics I wrote about, I’m trying to show that even the people that seem to have it all can be just as lost and broken as the rest of us, also that the most important thing you could be to a person is someone who asks them if they’re okay. Sometimes, that’s all a person needs - Someone to listen.

READ!⚠️angst, suicide,character death, drugs, heavy self-hating words, depiction of depression/mental illness, not specified, but insinuates⚠️

{🎵SOTS☁️; Lifeboat, Elle McLemore}

The world seemed to close in on you as you stared at the boy who stood before you with a hardened gaze in his eyes. While you only stood a good 3 feet away from him, you could feel the anger and helplessness radiating off of him, transferring itself onto you in sadness and heartbreak.

“Why?” Was the only thing you could manage to get past your lips.

“Y/n, it’s not that I don’t like you, of course I do. We’ve been dating for 2 years, but I’ve just been... uncomfortable almost the whole time. It’s not your fault, it’s just, your life. I can’t handle being with one of the most popular girls in school. You seem to have it all figured out, and everyone loves you, and I feel pushed to the side sometimes.” You didn’t understand why Jaemin was mad, but the small space under the bleachers where you both stood was enough to suffocate you to the point where you didn’t care to ask.

He didn’t understand.

They never understood.

No one.

You wanted to fight to save your relationship, but the words choked into the back of your throat, just like they did when Soojin would bully people in front of you, and you wanted to scream at her and pull the other person into your arms and whisper that it will all be okay and apologize apologize apologize, but you stayed rigid on her flank, silently trying to survive until you could get to Jaemins arms, or to the bottom of a beer bottle at yet another house party you were constantly forced to attend with your other two friends.

You choose to swallow your spit, and ask him, “is this because of soojin? Did she say something to you?” You knew your “dear” friend had a certain distaste for your long term boyfriend, because - as she had worded it - his kind doesn’t belong next to someone that Soojin had deemed acceptable enough to befriend (you); “His kind” being not necessarily the most popular. Him and his other friends were amazing people, and you wished you would have befriended them on the first day of freshman year, instead of the blonde girl in your Art 1 class that always had a red scrunchie. When Jaemin introduced you to them, you could tell they were hesitate to let you into their life - what with your position within your schools hierarchy system. You honestly didn’t blame them. However, after a while they warmed up to you, and you felt like you finally fit in with people. You thought these people would become your life long friends; long after you’ve left high school and forgotten all about the life you unwillingly lead.

You suppose that is no longer the case.

“No, yes, god I don’t know, y/n. It’s just, everything! You have friends that are bitches, and I never know when you’re just going to leave me and spread some terrible rumor about me!” He was silently yelling now. It was after school, and the football team was on the field - the other side of where you stood - practicing. There were people running on the track, cheerleaders practicing next to the field, leftover students wondering the grounds. Everyone was living, moving on with their lives and turning along with the Earth - why did you feel frozen? Why did you feel like nothing was ever going to keep moving and be okay and the world was never going to be beautiful again?

“Is that what you expect me to do, Jaemin? After two years of knowing me, is that what you think of me?”

“God, y/n, maybe! I see who you align yourself with so I wouldn’t be surprised if you were a bitch just like them!” You understood he was just hurting, like you, but that didn’t make the words hurt any less. You took a couple steps back from his figure with slow nods, before turning around fully and booking your way to your car.

Jaemin watched your retreating figure with tears curling into his eyes. He left not long after you did, still thinking about you on the way home. He didn’t know this at the time, but that was the last time he ever saw you. His first love, his first heartache.

You felt guilty.

You always did. You always had this insistent chewing at your intestines; this constant voice in your head telling you that everyone was better than you, and that you didn’t deserve the praise you got for being a good person.

You tried to fight the words and the icky feelings off with trips to the volunteer center - usually with Jaemin. You went that night, hoping that this constant pain in your heart after hearing jaemins smooth, venom-filled words would choke back and leave your system, like the terrible feelings usually did when you helped people. However, no matter how many people smiled at you, and no matter how many lives you got to help, the feeling only grew more and more.

You are worthless, y/n.

You only do charity work for your own need.

No one likes you.

You’ll never be loved.

Not even Jaemin loves you.

These ill thoughts were a normal occurrence for you. Usually, Jaemin would lay you down, rub your stomach, and whisper in your ear how beautiful you were to him, inside and out.

You were a nuisance and a waste to him, y/n.

The feelings never left, and you could tell people knew something was wrong with you, so you chose to leave the center early. On your way out, a familiar face had asked you where Jaemin was. You pretended you didn’t hear them.

Your room was dark. Usually, if you couldn’t have Jaemin, you would go to your parents. However, they were away at a dinner event for your mother’s work. You would never go to Soojin, and while you loved Haeyong, she had a tendency to tell Soojin about what you two privately talked about; always trying to get brownie points with the blonde girl who seemed to secretly hate her. You figured there was someone you could go to, and it didn’t hurt to try.

Y/n [10:57pm] u up???? I kinda need someone to talk to rn hAha. Read

Y/n [10:59pm] hello? 👉👈 Read

Y/n [11:02pm] Haechan why r you leaving me on read bro?? Ik he’s your best friend, but we don’t have to talk about him, I just need someone to talk to pLS pls. Read

[MISSED CALL FROM Y/N] 11:02PM

Haechan [11:03pm] listen y/n we shouldn’t talk anymore, I’m sorry. You were a good friend, but Jaemin was and always will be first to me. And he’s right, we never know when you’re going to do a 180 on us and tell all of our secrets to everyone. We can’t - and never have been able to - trust you. I’m sorry, really. You’re a popular girl. You don’t need us, you’ll forget. When we became friends with you, we didn’t really want to, Jaemin kinda forced us to, I hope u understand. :/ we’ll forget about u, u forget about us. Deal? Read

Y/n [11:04pm] um ok. Sorry for bothering you all, have a good night Read

Y/n [11:03pm] when will u be home?Read

[MISSED CALL FROM Y/N] 11:04PM

Mom [11:06pm] not for a while, ask Jaemin to come over if you’re scared of being alone. Read

Y/n [11:06pm] mom i hate to be annoying but can u and dad come home rn??? I need u Read

[MISSED CALL FROM Y/N] 11:06PM

Mom [11:08pm] are you dying? Has someone broken in? Are you unsafe?Read

Y/n [11:08pm] um,,,,no Read

Mom [11:10pm] well then no y/n. You know how much this award means to me, I’ve been constantly working lately and finally might get recognized for it. If I leave now, I might not get it. Can whatever you need wait? Read

Y/n [11:11pm] Um yeah. I love u Read

Mom [11:12pm] u too💖 Read

Why were you never first?

Why was there no one who asked you if you were okay?

If there was, what would you say?

See y/n? No one likes you.

You’re a bother to them.

Maybe you should fix that.

Maybe if you made their lives easier, they would love you.

You didn’t deserve their love, but maybe?

Maybe the pills could love you.

They were always there for you.

Maybe, they could help others love you too.

Love love love love.

Maybe.

They say your parents found you in bed.

They thought you were sleeping. I mean, all your lights were off, it was late.

But in the morning, when your mother came to wake you up and saw that your eyes were wide open, well....

They found the note on your desk across the room.

It was dated a year before.

You had written it a year before.

Everyone admitted that it was such a beautiful note. Heartbreaking? Yes. gut-wrenching? Of course. But beautiful, absolutely beautiful.

They gathered everyone into the gym the next day in intervals. Freshman, who didn’t understand what was really happening, but had heard your name and definitely knew who you were, and could put two and two together.

Next, the sophomores. Like the freshman, they only had heard of you. Some had met you, some cried. You were kind, they knew.

After them, the juniors. Chenle and Jisung were sitting in the corner. Jisung was sobbing into Chenle’s lap, while silent tears fell down the olders’ face. You had always been willing to play video games with them, and were such a kind hearted person. They remember last night, when they were all sitting together and haechan had read your texts you sent out loud, and all of them were so busy feeling for Jaemin, that they blindly informed Haechan on what he should say. On how to break your heart. Chenle wished Haechan had called her.

Finally, the seniors. Soojin and Haeyong sat in the back, as always. They were both upset because you had not been answering their texts.

Renjun, Haechan, Jeno, and Jaemin were sitting on the other side. They had not been told what the assembly was about, but when the teacher got the call about it, halfway through math, she sat at her desk for a couple of seconds with her head in her hands. They knew whatever the assembly was about was not good.

Haechan was the first to react out of the four.

He whispered your name silently with wide eyes rounded on his face. His mind went to the first time you met him. You played him in a round of Overwatch to get him to warm up to you, and easily beat him. Besides Jaemin, he was probably the one you were closest to.

Jeno just kept looking at his lap with evident tears denting dark spots onto his jeans. Renjun, who was sitting next to Jaemin, couldn’t take his eyes off the boy to his right, terrified that he would faint.

Jaemin felt sick. He knew he looked pale, and his head felt a bit dizzy. He tasted metallic in his mouth, and finally registered that he was biting the inside of his cheek so hard, he was drawing blood. He wanted to leave, but he was too far up on the risers to get down.

Soojin cried. It was uncharacteristic of her, but at this point she didn’t care. How had she not seen it? Was she that self centered that she had really not seen it on you? Her best friend?

Haeyong wished you had called her, wished you had told her. But why would you? She knew she didn’t deserve to hear your heartache, but she still wished.

They read out your note. Your beautiful, heartbreaking, gut-wrenching note. They read it. And the student body listened.

I float in a boat

In a raging black ocean

Low in the water

And no where to go

The tiniest lifeboat

With people I know

Cold,

Clammy and crowded

The people smell desperate

We’ll sink any minute

So someone must go

The tiniest lifeboat

With people I know

Everyone’s pushing

Everyone’s fighting

Storms are approaching, there’s no where to hide

If I say the wrong thing

Or I wear the wrong outfit

They’ll throw me right over the side

I’m hugging my knees

And the captain is pointing

Well who made her captain?

Still, the weakest must go

The tiniest lifeboat

Full of people I know

The tiniest lifeboat

Full of people I know

Lemme know if you’d like a part two? Idk. Like I said this is purely indulgent so it’s not that good sorry :///

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reversecreek · 4 years

Text

struts onto the dash carrying this deliriously wriggling little elf in my arms like a swaddled bebe......... they’re genuinely my oldest muse of all time i think i created them when i was like. 13 possibly. n i haven’t written them in Years but. i’m literally so excited to jst vibrating w muse. smiles at u all demurely..... they have risen. u can find their pinterest here n their playlist here.

* alana champion, nonbinary + they/them | you know nyla palmer, right? they’re twenty-two, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, eight months? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to 6669 (i don’t know if you know) by neon indian like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole a two headed doll of a prairie girl with stitched on rabbit ears and butterfly wings, befriending shadow puppets & finding god with your eyes open underwater in a public pool you broke into thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is march 2nd, so they’re a pisces, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( nai, 24, gmt she/her )

HISTORY:

was born in georgiaaaa georgiaaaa (phoebe bridgers voice holds my bang...) to a vry honest hard working man named george (omgggg he’s called GEORGE and he’s from GEORGIA? ahaaaaa fuckk ur jestinggg) nd a woman who did her best named pamela..... george worked on a construction site n pamela was a pharmacist..... their house was this small rickety white thing with a wrap around porch n a very rabid overgrown garden tht kind of looked like the earth ws trying to reclaim it bc nobody ever hd the time or motivation to mow the lawn.... there ws literally a piece of fold out furniture just entirely submerged by weeds n foliage

nyla ws always closest w their dad george..... he hd this way of looking at the world tht was seeing the best in all of it.... he took them on long walks where he talked abt how u have to respect the trees bc they’re breathing fr us n we’re breathing fr them..... he hd a strange whimsical sense of humour n a gnome alter ego called grundlebolt who always tickled them..... in a way this closeness created a distance between nyla n their mother but not so much that it ws rly a problem. just enough tht nyla sometimes waited until their mother ws out of eye n ear shot to tell their dad they loved him bc they didn’t wna make her sad >_>

(mental health, death & grief tw) pamela always struggled w her mental health but george ws great n understanding n knew how to help her thru this... nyla didn’t get it too greatly at a very young age bt they knew their mum got “the sads” sometimes (how their dad wld explain tht she needed to lay down in the quiet for a while or why she’d stood at the stove n let the dinner burn until the smoke detector went off without doing anything abt it). when nyla was 14 they got home one day to a police car in the driveway n came prancing in exuberantly as they always did. immediately hugged the legs of an officer bc this is hw they wld greet everyone they ever met. they only realised something was wrong when they let go n saw their mum sat at the table crying. essentially there ws an accident at the construction site george worked at n :/ yeah.

(jst mental health & grief tw now) this rly had an intense ripple effect on everyone tbh. pamela’s mental health deteriorated quite a lot without george there as her rock n nyla sort of had to step in as best they cld but it was....... hard. some days she ws better bt some days nyla had to sit her in the bath n stroke a wet sponge over her back bc they didn’t know how else to calm her down. nyla always had a very overactive imagination which george encouraged bt it ws like. losing him rly opened a window in nyla’s head n all rationality went floating out of it. their dreams seemed more real than being awake. fantasy wasn’t jst the way they coped bt it was the way they thought n the way they saw. everything on earth was alive. the trees n the clouds n the wall with a brick missing at the bottom of her road n especially their dad. their dad was alive in everything in nyla’s head. the sun shining extra bright in the morning was george. ponds were a veil they could dunk her head under and find george waiting on the other side. reality rly just pulled the plug n said bye tbh n they were ok w that <3

(abuse implied tw) their mum remarried too fast to a man named stephen n it was jst not a good arrangement. he was Not a nice man. i won’t go into this but home wasn’t a nice place for nyla any more n after a couple of yrs stephen wound up asking them to leave n their mum said nothing to contradict tht. there’s more to this bt long story short nyla left <3

(drugs tw) they couch surfed fr a while before settling living w their best friend. they got up to like... all sorts of trouble n grew up far too fast. nyla’s lack of sense n realism hd a habit of getting them into some sticky situations n these few yrs were a rollercoaster where they got by on the skin of their teeth. when they think of high skl they think of gravel and skinned knees and sucking sherbet dunkers to ignore the taste of pennies in ur mouth and getting lost in the woods a lot bc they’d take FAR too many drugs n be lead astray having conversations with kind trees whose branches held their hands

(drug mention) got by on odd jobs like making candles n selling them at market stalls. leaf blowing at cemeteries. face painting fr children’s parties (where they were blatantly high). random stuff. all over the place. in this time them n their best friend also hd a sugar daddy named tony who always wore very impressive colour block suits n mink stoles n jewelled fedoras n hd a swanky apartment w marble floors. rly just. surreal. lots of strange stories frm this time.

things kind of blew up in their friendship group n they fell out w their best friend raya bc she slept w this guy aj who nyla hd been madly in love w for yrs.... he was a Stinker n honestly so ws their best friend so good riddance i say bt obviously it felt like having their entire world flipped upside dwn fr nyla.... they split after this came out bc they just did Not want to b around these ppl any more n they decided to leave w this guy frm a band they barely knew tht much save fr a one night stand to tour w them..... this ws another whirlwind. jst chock full of them. it ws similar to being on a teacup ride at a carnival n spinning round n round n only knowing u were surrounded by lots of lights. tht’s how they’d best describe their time on tour.

SO in terms of them coming to irving 8 months ago they came w the band.... they honestly did pretty well on tour n wound up renting a big beach house on dorado as a kind of “retreat” sort of place fr them to shack up in while they worked on writing and recording their first big studio album (they gt signed w a label so it’s all vry exciting stuff). nyla among like 3 others were allowed to stay w them too bc they hd a lot of fun on tour. literally jst. taken on as professional groupies essentially. nyla loved it bc they’d never seen the ocean n when they first got there they jst threw off all their clothes n ran straight into the water. it was 3pm on a tuesday afternoon. they got arrested fr public indecency n didn’t get why bc they were like but i just wanted to hug the ocean u silly little oinker? i picture the beach house as like. the loudest one on dorado.... comes alive like a jungle at night..... they r probably bad neighbours. anyway. onto personality puts hand on hip.

PERSONALITY:

sets out patio furniture on someone else’s lawn n jst takes a seat n leans back like ahhhhh vat a nice day to be alive ya! (swedish accent suddenly bc they think it’s fun). they come out n start yelling n they’re jst so confused they’re like hey wat’s the big idea hey wat’s go on here why u angies why this happen?

likes drawing imaginary veins over their arms in all different colour blue pens in a sudden fit of hyperfixation n then forgets all abt it n goes out like tht n scares several townsfolk bt they’re oblivious they’re jst in her own world loving life already onto the next fixation. has many many different fads like this. one day will jst start snipping up a bunch of magazines bc they’re like EYES ARE COOL N THEY SEE EVERYTHING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! :P n they’ll stick a bunch of them over their wall n then forget they was doing that n leap onto the next. quite a pattern. bt they love the vein thing a lot it makes them feel like a walking planetarium like they have their own constellations

sometimes jst doesn’t make sense. they’re honestly kind of strange. pops up in places like they suddenly materialised there n it’s like how did u get there where have u been when were u last seen are u ok. has the energy of an ancient deity frm deep in a mountain cave n an ambiguous forest sprite all at once..... talks shit honestly. abt anything n everything. sometimes outrageous. sometimes plain incoherent. like what are u talking about? i dnt kno. even i dnt kno sometimes.

luvs stick n pokes will let anyone tattoo whatever they want on them for the price of a gummy bear kindly placed onto their tongue n swallowed whole

has this obsession w being underwater w their eyes open luvs it. calls it their tadpole time. runs baths just to lie there blinking looking around n drifting her arms. best friends w the bottom of any local swimming pool n hs probably given it a quick kiss so it knows they’re bff’s n then got sick bc there’s sm germs in a public pool. says the kgb probably poisoned their oatmeal n r finally here to deliver on their promise n THAT’S why they got sick unrelated to the pool incident. what promise? noone knows.

unclear if they believe what they say or if they jst has a very expanded sense of humour where they nvr let on if they’re joking.... lines r blurred a lot.....

loves excitedly shouting things. sometimes just screams at the sky bc they say it’s good to let the creatures in ur belly fly out every once in a while otherwise their wings get sore.

(drugs tw) still does an excessive amt of hallucinogens n it kind of shows. very bad fr their brain bt we’re going to ignore it.

dresses fun n strange n eccentric n careless. loves to experiment. does nt care abt what’s considered to be societally appropriate. living in their own world.

sleeps around a lot... jst doesn’t rly see sex as a big deal.... very free w themselves in that way..... sometimes greets their friends w a kiss on the lips they’re like awww :) kisses <3 when they run into them in the middle of the cereal aisle n then pulls away n suddenly breaks into a box tht has a free toy in it bc it’s a banana with googly eyes n that’s the best thing they’ve ever heard in their LIFE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! n isn’t he so HANDSOME????? enchante indeed my good sir ;)... gives the toy a kiss too.

WANTED CONNECTIONS:

other groupies of the band: self explanatory a little.... i dnt have a name for the band yet bt all can b worked out..... i picture them as kind of. not that nice but like. there for a good time........ rock genre.... bit chaotic...... to say the least........ they dnt have to have come there w the band like nyla n the others they cld have been adopted in their time there.... whoever wld b wild n down fr a good time <3

chaotic trash goblin friends: idk what this title rly means it just came to me in a vision....... jst ppl tht r rly kind of off the rails n don’t care abt anything...... they r who nyla tends to mesh very well w......... they rly r living in their own world n by their own rules n they like ppl who do this too <3 inevitably they get up to no good n party far too much...... cld be angst to this if they enable each other’s bad habits...... world’s our oyster. opens my office door. let’s talk abt it.

nyla set up camp on their front lawn: maybe jst w a fold out chair. maybe w a literal pop up tent w someone else too. genuinely so bizarre of them bt that’s what we’re dealing with. they poke their head into the tent n nyla’s lying down crunching on a cracker crumbs over their tits n they just hold it out to them nt even fully consumed n are like hey polly want a cracker? :)

they responded to her craigslist ad: they posted one saying they cld cleanse their house of demonic energy bc they’re an all seeing eye in touch w the spirits. this is a lie. they came n waved sage around n did a little dance as they did it w bird sounds playing on a special cd they brought fr the occasion (had weird indistinct doodles over the case it ws brought in) n then ws like OOH! scary.... n jumped at something in the hall. they go in thinking maybe they’ve seen a ghost bt they just were startled by their own reflection in a mirror n is like. scary mirror placement...... might wna reconsider that........ they charge them merely 10 dollars fr their time n is like this was so fun we shd do it again some time :) also i think u have mould on ur bathroom tile! vanishes. they dnt recall them ever going to the bathroom.

came knocking asking for items for a garage sale: yes. u heard that right. they’re asking for ur muses things to set up their own garage sale. selling items that do not belong to them. they think this is a genius business strategy n don’t understand why ppl think this is so strange or why they cant just ask ppl to donate them things to sell bc hey they’re an entrepreneur? they even had a pencil behind their ear when they knocked on the door so why aren’t ppl taking their business seriously? probably got distracted several times trying to explain their pitch n chattered abt random other things instead.

honestly anything... fwbs... flings... good influence... someone who cnt stand the fact they’re barely coherent.... someone they stopped on the street one day n asked for their opinion on water beds.... we cn do literally anything. fling ur chara my way n we can talk.

#irvingintro #mental health tw #death tw #grief tw #drugs tw #abuse tw

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zombieratt · 4 years

Text

Alright so forewarning this is LONG as FUCK specifically because i came up with this idea in early high school and was just today POSESSEd By the Spirit Of Musical Theatre to put it to paper— er Tumblr.

So without further ado:

DEAR EVAN HANSEN BUT EVAN ISNT A TERRIBLE PERSON AND CONNOR LIVES.

the beginning is the same, canon diverges just after waving through a window.

*this ended up getting written is script format? i also just sorta ignore alana’s whole exsistance bc in this version of the play she’s unnecessary*

In the moments before he talks to Connor evan decides to omit Zoe from his letter, having resolved himself to move on from her. (instead of being a hella creep.)

Connor: “dear Evan Hansen,” what are you writing letters to yourself? *he laughs*

Evan: its, uh, its for my therapist. its just a stupid little assignment that she says is supposed to help me process my feelings or— uh or something

Connor: hm. here. * hands Evan the letter*

Connor: your cast. no one’s signed it.

Evan: uh no. no one has.

Connor: gotta sharpie?

Evan: huh?

Connor: gotta sharpie? im gonna sign it.

Evan: *handing the sharpie to Connor* w- whuh uh why?

Connor: *shrugs* feels right.

Evan: i wish i could do that

Connor: what?

Evan: UH, IMEAN—

Connor: no wait- dude.

Evan: i mean uh, i meant that i wish i could just be, y’know impulsive like that.

Connor: Why Cant you be?

Evan: i uh, my heads pretty messed up, and stuff like that just, makes it worse i guess.

Connor: well theres some thing we have in common— were both fucked up in the head.

*the bell rings*

Evan: oh shoot! i missed the bus—

Connor: i’ll give you a ride.

Evan: are you sure i mean i can walk its not far-

Connor: all the more reason, i probably have to pass it on my way home anyway, cmon.

——

they meet Zoe in the parking lot

Zoe: I have Late practice today

Connor: whatever, gotta passenger.

Zoe: who the fuck would be crazy enough to trust your ability to drive?

Evan *being Brave*: Me Apparently?

Zoe: Uh, Evan Right?

Evan: yeah, uh, yeah.

Zoe *holding her hand out to be shaken*: i’m Zoe, we’ve met though right?

Evan wipes his hand on his shirt and shakes it: yeah, uh, nice to formally meet you, Zoe.

Zoe: i’m off, don’t kill him stoner.

Connor: i wont Princess

Evan breathing heavy: that was,, an eventful ten minutes.

Connor: oh fuck— you cool? or—

Evan: Panic Attack.

Connor: Right, uh

Connor: can you get in the car?

Evan: yeah

*car nonsense*

Connor: Can i start driving or do you want me to wait

Evan: Distractions are good,, Can Uh, Can you Talk about Stuff?

Connor: What stuff!??

Evan: any Stuff!

Connor: Is Zoe okay??

Evan: Sure?!

Connor: Uhh we don’t get along as well as we used to?

we were really close as kids, shes a huge asshole now but *fully venting now*

i kind of miss it you know? having someone to talk to and care about— and i still care about her— but its scary and i always fuck it up! not to mention the fact that our parents hate me— make her see me as some alien and not just a fucked up kid who wants to talk and — (more ranting that i dont feel like writing, but its a whole monologue bro)

Evan: Connor

Connor snaps his mouf shut: yeah

Evan: thanks

Connor: oh that, uh actually helped?

Evan: yeah focusing on your voice and whats real and stuff— it makes a difference.

Neither of them noticed that Connor was just sort of Driving. they end up at the park where in canon Connor commits Sewer-slide.

Evan: i didn’t know there was a park here.

Connor: huh, oh, yeah i guess i just sorta auto piloted, i come here to think.

Evan: About stuff?

Connor: Yeah, Stuff.

*the convo lulls*

Connor: do you have a laptop?

Evan: no, i uh, i left it at home? why?

Connor: give me a second

Connor walks to the car and grabs his back pack out of the back seat

Evan watches Quizzically from the swing-set

Connor pulls out a Sketch Pad and Pen, flipping to a clean page.

Connor: So tell me how to write one of those letters of yours.

Evan: uh, well you start like any other letter- just addressing it to yourself

Connor writing: Dear Connor Murphy,

Evan: and uh, my first one was supposed to be about my ideal summer vacation? since i started in middle school- but you don’t have to—

Connor: thats perfect.

Connor starts to sing for forever,

eventually Evan joins in there is a minor gay moment where they’re holding hands face to face.

the song ends with Connor hugging Evan.

Evan: its- its pretty late.

Connor obviously crying: just— just a couple more minutes.

Evan lets go and grabs Connors sketch book of the ground, closing it and handing it off to him: then how about this, labor day weekend- we actually go.

Connor: what are you talking about?

Evan: being spontaneous?

Connor: o-okay.

and it cuts to black.

theres a small montage here, as the set changes to Connor and Evans bedrooms

sincerely, me is a lament in this context, Connor and Evan are duetting from their respective rooms, writing to themselves.

(the lyrics are completely different and i will not be writing them here because thats too much fucking effort.

but they’re duetting from their bedrooms about making a connection to another person, feeling seen, for the first time. what it felt like and how they really want to keep it up but are afraid of making a mistake and ruining it.

its got some themes of waving thru a window, and a little bit of for forever, but its still largely the same notes just in a different key.)

after wards, Zoe knocks on Connors door to tell him dinner is ready to find him peacefully asleep.

requiem is the same, Zoe sees Connor as Dead to Her instead of actually dead, so some of the wording changes, so and so about how a monster doesn’t deserve peaceful rest etcetera.

school day happens, Connor doesn’t die, but the hot goss is that everyone saw Connor and Evan go home together after school, jared makes a shitty homophobic joke to Evan and Evan kind of tells him off about it. they argue and it culminates in Evan saying “well god forbid I’m friends with someone who isn’t YOU!” or smth like tht and it hits jared right the fuck at home man.

Connor says from the side lines: damn that was pretty hard core dude.

Evan: you have, no idea how long i’ve wanted to do that.

Connor honest to god l a u g h s, theres a number of people who hear it and lose their shit, Zoe being one of them: i have a pretty good idea, wanna get some lunch?

Evan: yeah, sure.

this general routine continues until labor day weekend, when they plan to go on their little escape. theres a short scene of Connor leaving the house with his keys and a backpack.

Connors mom confronts Zoe about his oddly upbeat attitude and hows he’s seemed differently lately Zoe Shrugs but decides to investigate his room.

she finds the letters. the first one is for forever, the theme plays as she reads it frantically, and is signed “Sincerely me (connor murphy)” so she knows its him, i f i could tell her begins but its a real duet between Connor and Zoe and at the end she resolves to try harder to connect to him.

Evan sings disappear to Connor after breaking into a formerly public park, in this context its him confessing that he broke his arm attempting su!c!de. Connor records it, for personal reference.

jared hacks Connors phone and steals the video, posting it to yt, in an effort to ruin their friendship.

Evan and Connor get in a little fight about it, and in the meantime Evan is called to the school to give an assembly because hes a phenomenal speaker and Disappear got like 1000000 views over night.

Zoe and Connor bond a little bit in a short scene before the assembly

Zoe: wheres Evan what happened?

Connor: Kleinman Did!

Zoe: what?

Connor: Why Do you care?

Zoe: because! you look happy around him!

Connor: i, i do?

Zoe: yeah? he could tell the worst joke ever written and you’d crack up. i haven’t heard you laugh like that in years Connor, maybe ever.

Connor: oh.

Zoe: Come back inside?

Connor: y, Yeah.

they all perform You Will Be Found together.

end act 1.

(no more dialogue from here i got tired)

to break in a glove is Connor’s dad trying to reconnect with him, it goes mediocrely, but Connor feels like hes being seen by his dad for the first time in years. its said in metaphors, but this is Connors dads way of saying that if Connor is willing to put in the work, so is he. they hug at the end, things are looking up. some talk of therapy is sprinkiled in the dialogue as they walk of stage together.

Only Us is Evan and Connor saying that they saved each other. its loosely romantic, as its a love song, but they don’t out right say that they’re in love or anything, they don’t know if theyre ready for that. its a promise. the song ends with Connor finally apologizing for pushing Evan over at the beginning of the show.

good for you is sung by jared only, as a power ballad, about losing people you didn’t treasure. its his attempt at an apology, but it ultimately fails, since jared is unable to take responsibility for his own actions. this is where jared and Evan go their separate ways.

Evan’s mom comforts him, as he sings words fail, which is about specifically jared, and how their rocky friendship is ruined and Evan pegs himself as the cause, instead of parents or perfect girl he uses metaphors that apply to best friends— maybe more. and talks about how he didn’t try, he was happy so he ignored that jared was hurting, and how that was really shitty of him. but instead of it being a generally somber song the end is lighter, because Connor is there— waving through his front window.

Evans mom sings So Big/So Small as Evan steps out the front door to embrace Connor and they mime talking about jared, hug and take hands. the house moves off stage in preparation for the finale.

Connor and Evan open the finale saying each others names, and sing it together as the test of the cast (minus jared) joins in, Evans mom taking his hand and Zoe Taking Connors, Evans mom the Murphys and Zoe break off to the back where Evan and Connor finish the final “all i see is sky for forever” while looking into each others eyes, and finish the musical by embracing (maybe kissing if thats ur jam).

#dear evan hansen #deh #connor murphy #evan hansen #zoe murphy #musicals #broadway #deh rewrite i guess?#this is more like the outline of a fic i’ll never write #kd.txt #i was posessed to write this #tree bros

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i-dont-want-your-hysteria · 4 years

Text

The Leppard Albums: A Summary

(inspired by Every Beatles Album)

Happy Saturday night everyone

The Def Leppard EP

Joe is 19 and just wants to ride a motorcycle okay

Groupie fantasy

Zeppelin lyrics meet Rush with an underappreciated bass line

On Though the Night

IT'S!!! ROCK!!! N ROLL!!! BABEY!!!

Joe is 20 and just really doesn't wanna work in a factory anymore okay

pls D; girl D; stop D; hiding D; your D; pain!!

another... groupie fantasy... I think? ...???

Leppard in Space

Joe is 20 and just wants to write something edgy okay leave him alone

STEVE 👏👏👏 FUCKING 👏👏👏 CLARK!!!! 👏👏🔥👏🔥👏👌👌

the original groupie fantasy but it's been re-recorded

girl?? make up?? your mind???

let's be mysteriously edgy ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Zeppelin lyrics meets Rush but it's been re-recorded (but don't worry they still kept the underappreciated bass line)

High N Dry

everyone in this band is a slutty bottom and this is the song that proves it

we have Mutt Lange now and this is the song that proves it

drONK TIEM

betcha didn't think we could write a ballad, did ya ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

STÊVË!!!!! 👏👏👏👏 FÜCKÎÑ!!!!!! 👏👏👏👏👏 C L Ã R K!!!!!!!!!!!!! 🔥🔥🔥🔥👏👌👌🤙👏👌🔥👌🎉🎉

underappreciated and that's all there is to it

noooo don't go you're too mysterious and sexy hahhaha

oh god Dx oh god no Dx we don't sound like this anymore we swear Dx

betcha thought we stopped writing Beowulf-esque pop songs didn't ya ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

🚫🚫⛔👎🚫🙅‍♂️👎🚫⛔🙅‍♂️⛔ *Joe tearing his throat up for 2 solid minutes*

Pyromania

IT'S ROCK!!!!!! N ROLL!!!! BABEY!!!!!!!1!!!!1!!1!! AGAIN!!!!! 😆😆😆

the Classic Rock Fandom™ in a nutshell 😓

INTRODUCING PHIL 👌👌👌 FUCKING👏👏 COLLEN 🔥🔥🔥

betcha thought we abandoned the idea of doing a ballad didn't ya ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Joe's back at it again with the edgy songs and is getting a lot better at it too

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ∆ ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Gunter 🙃 Glieben 🙃 Glauchen 🙃 Globen

the most underappreciated song on this whole entire fucking list sorry I don't make the rules

Alright, WHO in this band wants to be in a porno >:C

Joe's back at it yet again with the edgy songs but it's even BETTER this time

Hysteria

Girls Girls Girls ALL WOMEN ARE QUEENS ANAKIN

🎸we!!! fucking!!! love!!!! glam rock!!!!!! and african drum rhythms!!!!!!!!!🥁

we're not furries we swear we're just kinky D: also fuck you DJs here's some false endings

we haven't made a ballad that HURTS yet so here we go (with an underappreciated bass line)

the song that invented "( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)" (AKA when you cram for a test the minute before and end up getting 100%)

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)😏( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)😏( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

S T E V E 😭👏👏 F U C K I N 😭😭😭 C L A R K 👏👏👏😭👏😭

nooo don't shoot me you're too kinky hahaha

a song about rioting and being #punk, but the only crime the man singing it has ever committed was getting a speeding ticket when he was 19/20

oh. oh shit. oh god. holy shi- I can't believe... ...we just accidentally made the most perfect song to ever exist :o like seriously- people are achieving nirvana as we speak I'm not joking I think we went too far with the perfection this time guys

THIS SONG IS ABOUT S E X AND WE AIN'T BEING SHY ABOUT IT EITHER LET'S FUCKIN GO BABE-

Don't 👏 give 👏 me 👏 love 👏

Adrenalize

gkKLglldlflhlADKSLALLFLSS 😆😆😆

I fucking love my wife uWu

fkKMglgllsLLslgflephpGLDLPT 😆(͠≖ ͜ʖ͠≖)😆

We're just gonna get extremely romantic and passionate for 4 minutes and 3 seconds if that's alright with you (͠≖ ͜ʖ͠≖)

this album was the most painful thing any of us have ever had to do, so here's the most serious song we've ever done to date. Steve ✊ Fucking ✊ Clark ✊ -n-

now that our mental breakdown is over, we're gonna get extremely passionate and romantic again but for a lil longer this time aiight 🤙

one of us has a protection/ownership kink but we're not gonna tell you who

you know what this album needs? a little bit more pain

we're layin down the line (and by that we mean we want sex)

we're layin down the line pt.2 (we still want sex btw)

Retro Active

Beowulf songs are back babey 🤙

I'll say that again if I have to^

we!!! still!!! fucking!!! love!!!! glam rock!!!!! we even covered something to prove it!!!!!!

Joe has now officially mastered ballads

I fucking love my wife part 2: she's a badass top

While Joe was off mastering ballads, Phil studied the blade

We covered something else bc again!!! we fucking!!! love!!! glam!!!

We rewrote Joe's motorcycle song bc we now realize it was cringe af (and it was an excuse for Joe to talk to Ian Hunter so that made him happy)

Joe has now officially mastered edgy/serious songs

it's a total bop but oh god. No. Please. No. Oh God. No. Don't. Please. No. Pls. No. Oh god. Don't.

This should've been on Adrenalize and you can Fight Me On That

Phil studies the blade (electric version)

Joe masters ballads (electric version)

Vault (there's only one new song on here so that's all I'm doing)

babe nooooo D';

Slang

Epic edgelords part 1

Epic edgelords part 2: Phil wrote it this time

everyone in this band is a slutty bottom and this is the song that proves it Volume 2: Electric Bugaloo

soft breakdown :'c

hOT DOGGITY DAMN JOE'S VOICE HOLY HELL TAKE ME N- *clears throat* I mean introducing Vivian Campbell :3 aND THERE'S A BASS SOLO MMMM 🤤🤤👌 THIS SONG IS JUST SEXY FUCKIN LIFT ME UP AND-

Phil's marriage isn't going too well

in fact, no one's marriages are going too well

severely underrated bop

We're still not over Steve's death and we never will be :c

Joe makes edgy ballads his bitch yet again 👏👏

severely underrated banger 🔥🔥🔥

Euphoria

wE STILL MAKE FAST BOPS IN CASE YOU FORGOT 🤘🤘🤘🤘🤘🤘🤘

Holy shit I didn't know Joe could hit a note that high

The 90s sucked for us but we'rE STILL HERE BICH 🖕

Can we pls give Sav more songwriting space on albums thx 😭💗

everyone in this band is a slutty bottom and this is the song that proves it Volume 3: Even Sluttier This Time 😏

totally different from everything we've ever done and WE 👏 MADE IT 👏 OUR 👏 EDGY 👏 BITCH

uwu but it's sad so it's actually umu

partying like it's 1999- oh wait, it actually is 1999

*hugs Viv and scREEEEEEEEAAAMMS*

Phil studied the blade and attacks you with it

*gets escorted into the back of a police car* IM GUILTY!! I'M GUILTY!!! I'M NOT INNOCENT!!! 😫😫😫

whatever edginess we couldn't fit into Paper Sun we put into this song instead

we're entering the new millennium as Kings and there's nothing you can do about it 👑🖕

X (Ten)

Stand on a balcony at sunset when you listen to this one

(insert Vizzini saying "INCONCEIVABLE" here)

the big UwU

I got ghosted and it’s actually a lot more dark and depressing than I thought also I wish I was never awake

soft and edgy and sad acoustic dads

F-U-C-K SPELLS F- I mean L-O-V-E spells love uWu

babe nOOOooO I'm sorry I suck so much DD;

this sounds like out if Work It Out and Day After Day had a kid

we're gonna have a Funky Good Time whether you like it or not 😎

E D G E L O R D S 2 0 0 2

we can't decide if we want this album to be edgy or uwu so we're gonna make it both

the same passion as Tonight but less sexy and more (you guessed it) uwu

E D G E L O R D S 2 0 0 2 P A R T 2

Betcha thought our emo phase was over didn't ya ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Yeah!

bops have been and will ALWAYS be something we have mastered- even if the song we're playing isn't ours

SAV'S TIME TO SHINE

betcha thought we couldn't cover a Blondie song, did ya ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Phil's just getting nostalgic about London it's fine 👍

don't worry joe's still sCREAMIN

in which we make this song a million times better than the original

WE LOVE ROXY MUSIC SO MUCH WE CANTEXPLAINWEJUSTLOVEHEMRMFLGPHPH

we're letting Joe have his moment ok just let him have this 👨‍🎤

yeah we like Free- so whAT??

okay NOW we're letting Joe have his real moment- he's been waiting for this moment ever since he was like 12 okay just. let him. have this just. this one time. pls.

in which we confuse literally everyone by making them think this is a song that we wrote

we just need ONE more bop, okay? Just ONE more we swear then we'll stop being fanboys (for now...)

we'll be right back, it's Bow Down To Thin Lizzy Hour

*Phil tearing up his throat for 4 and a half solid minutes*

Songs From The Sparkle Lounge

this one's actually kinda dark and heavy? :o

honky tonk time 🤠🤙

FINALLY ONE OF SAV'S SONGS IS THE MOST POPULAR SONG OFF AN ALBUM 🙏🙏🙏🙏😩

FINALLY WE HAVE MORE SAV MATERIAL I LOVE IT SM ;∆; !!!!

Phil's songs are severely underrated tho pls give them more attention

it's time for one (1) badass religious song and if you don't like it then you can Fuck Off kindly 🙃

This whole album is "Songs That Were Written By Phil and Viv and Sav" heaven

I think sometimes people forget that we, even as a band, are fans of the Classic Rock Fandom™ too, and we feel the same pain as the other fans :'^)🤙

Joe's three minutes of fame on this album

Joe's three minutes of fame on this album part 2

Viv's songs are severely underrated tho pls give them more attention

Mirror Ball (bonus tracks)

we grabbed fate by the balls and screamed fUCK YOU 🖕🖕

We are still Kings™ in case anyone was wondering 👑🖕

✨PHIL BELIEVES!!!! IN!!!!! LOVE!!!!!!!! AND!!!!!!!!!! BELIEVING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!✨

Def Leppard (Self Titled 2015)

Is this song about playing a live show? Probably. Is it also about having a fight? Is it also about angry sex? The world may never know.

Okay this one just absolutely SLAPS, periodt.

bootleg Another One Bites The Dust

*SOBBING* THEY'RE ALL SINGING LEAD I'M-

being badass, That's The Power Of Love

don't worry, we still know how to be Poetically Edgy

iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii'm *bump bump* hooked on a feeeeling

I've Got a Spiritual Romantic Boner

Can't Keep Away From The Flame edginess gets crossed with some Zeppelin charm and badassery

someone in this band is fucking piSSED 😠😠😠😠

we're gonna @ someone tonight fellas

sAV OH MY GOD BABYYYYY 😰😰😭😭😭😭 DO YOU NEED A HUG

what if we tried to cross newer Metallica with Nickelback 🤔

what if we turned this into We All Need Christmas three years from now... 🤔

Bonus: Personal Jesus/We All Need Christmas

Viv really wanted to cover ABBA but everyone said no so he settled for cowboy goth™ instead

What better man to write a warm and fuzzy Christmas song than the warm and fuzziest man alive (Sav)

108 notes · View notes

captainsjack · 4 years

Note

There needs to be more Shus h/c: I've been imaging lately Shawn getting into a massive fight with Henry, the kind were his Dad is really out of line and he can't joke his way through it bc he's been hit where it HURTS. Gus is there naturally, and Shus is married in the scenario bc I say so. They have to pull over on the way home bc Shawn actually breaks down despite his best efforts not to. Gus is a good protective husband and does his best to calm him down, but Shawn is QUIET for days after. p1

p2. Henry comes over to apologize and Gus opens the door, seriously considers punching him face, but ultimately lets him in. Henry and Shawn make up as much as they ever do, but Gus refuses to talk to him for months bc he's still furious at him for hurting Shawn that much. Would love to hear you elaborate on this with your own hc and thoughts <3

ok the fact that i’ve written something very similar to this (well at least thought about it) ?? buddy we’re just on the same wavelength here !!

but honestly ?? just what you said is perfect, i don’t even know what to add !!

to be fair, i am a bit sympathetic to henry, so i’m not quite sure exactly what he would say that’s so out of line, but i do like the concept.

i’d definitely say this is within the first season. like shawn’s trying his best to make an effort with his dad, despite everything that’s happened. and it’s mostly because he feels a bit guilty about not inviting henry to the wedding. like shawn and gus got married a bit over a year before s1, and so henry hadn’t moved back yet, and even if he had been in santa barbara at the time, shawn was still pretty sure he wouldn’t have invited him anyways (gus is completely on shawns side and actually hasn’t even spoken to henry since high school, but i digress, that’s a different plot).

anyways, when shawn saw henry for the first time in idk how long, neither of them really mentioned the whole Wedding Ring Thing until henry said something during the dog house scene and they awkwardly talked about it (again, a concept for a different post).

so they both had a bit more sympathy for how their relationship has gone wrong, and both were trying their best to make things better even though it was hard (because missing your sons wedding is a real blow no matter how much you know you’ve fucked up in the past). and so things sort of have changed for the better at least a little bit and shawn thinks that, maybe, just maybe, he can forgive his dad just a bit and things can be civil.

and so when shawn and gus are at henry’s (idk what for) and henry says something, it hits shawn a hell of a lot harder than it would’ve in the past. because he wasn’t expecting it (well, at least not as much). he’d thought they were at least ok for now.

and idk what henry says, but it’s clear to shawn that whatever niceties had been in place the last couple of months had just been a figment of shawn’s imagination. of him trying to cling to a shred of a normal relationship with his father.

it wasn’t something shawn could just laugh off or roll his eyes and make a joke. it stings. a lot. and shawn kind of just flinches and he tries to be subtle about it, but he can’t hide the hurt that flashes across his face.

gus tries to defend shawn right away, once henry says the thing. his body is filled with an amount of hatred he hasn’t felt since he had found out shawn had left town and had known it was all henry’s fault. everything in his body goes tense and he’s unconsciously angling his body in front of shawn, harsh words flying out of his mouth unstoppable.

but shawn kind of just huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. he puts his hands up in a “whatever” gesture, body already turning to the door. “forget it man, let’s just go” he says to gus, and he doesn’t wait for a response before he’s already out the door and halfway to the car.

gus just stands there, watching the door swing shut, before he glares at henry one last time and follows shawn. he makes sure to slam the door extra hard.

shawn’s leaning against the passenger door, his face expressionless, and gus knows shawn well enough to know that there’s nothing he can say to make things right. so gus just carefully looks at him, and shawn’s still staring at the ground, and he unlocks the car and they start driving.

the silence that fills the car is heavy, and it makes gus feel like he can’t breathe. he tries to focus on the road, hands gripping the steering wheel so hard it hurts, but he can’t help but keep glancing over at shawn.

shawn’s resting his head against the window, and his face looks dull and exhausted, and every inch of his body feels like lead. he’s so fucking tired of everything, and no matter how much he tries to stop the dam from breaking, he can’t. it takes too much energy to force everything down, and right here, right now, it’s just him and gus and the dark night road, and so he gives up. the ice around his heart breaks - fully breaks - and for the first time in 10 years, he really truly accepts the fact that his father has always, and will always, hate him.

the sobs lurch out of his chest with an amount of force he hasn’t experienced before, and before he can draw in another shaky breath, the car stops and gus’s arms are around him. and he can’t stop no matter how much he tries, and his chest hurts, and he can’t fucking breathe. he clings onto gus’s shirt so hard his nails dig into his palms through the material.

gus just sits there, half in his seat and half on the console separating him and shawn, and he’s holding shawn to his chest like his life depends on it. he murmurs “it’s okay, you’re okay” and “i’ve got you, i’m right here” and “it’s not your fault, it’s never been your fault” over and over again, in the hopes that something, some string of words, will bring any sort of comfort to his husband.

he doesn’t know how long shawn cries, but it’s long enough that his back starts to hurt and he has to reach over and turn off the car so they don’t waste the battery. shawn’s breaths are still shallow and shaky, but his grip on gus has loosened and gus’s shirt has begun to dry.

“what do you need?” gus asks softly, face pressed into shawn’s hair.

“nothing, just you.” and he can’t get out any more words than that, but he doesn’t really need to. because gus is the only thing he has ever, and will ever, need, especially now.

“okay,” gus whispers, and he holds shawn tighter.

they sit like that, squished in the blueberry on the side of the road, car barely parked, until the stars and moon brighten, the streets grow quiet with the night, and shawns heartbeat slows and his breaths come out more even.

in the following days, gus can count on his two hands the number of words shawn has spoken. gus does the talking for the both of them, and, thankfully, shawn’s at least okay enough to laugh at a few of his jokes. but it’s not the sound gus has grown accustomed to - it’s forced, a bit hollow, and he knows in the bottom of his heart there’s something missing. some part of shawn has broken and he doesn’t know if it can be fixed.

he takes off a few days from work, and they spend their days watching movies, cartoons, cuddling, and playing games (half the words on gus’s metaphorical hands are “uno”). shawn doesn’t mention psych or his dad.

neither does gus. he doesn’t know what to say. what is there to say? “are you okay?” that’s too broad of a question and gus knows shawn isn’t okay. “do you want to talk about it?” gus knows shawn will just shrug and say there’s nothing to talk about.

when shawn’s ready, he’ll bring it up, and gus knows that. he also knows that the only way shawn will be able to move on from this, is if he talks to henry. gus knows there’s not much damage control he can do unless henry is there, present in the conversation.

that’s the only reason why gus doesn’t just punch him in the face and slam the door when one sunday morning, he finds henry on the other side of the dark oak doorway.

shawn is in the shower and gus can hear the water turn off as he meets henry’s eyes with a tired glare, and so gus steps out into the hallway with him and closes the door.

“what?” he asks stiffly. and all of a sudden he’s 18 again, in front of the man who he’s just told he hated.

“can i talk to him?” henry quirks an eyebrow up, shifting in anticipation of entering their apartment.

gus defensively steps backward, hand blocking the doorknob. “why?” he asks.

henry sighs. “gus...”

gus’s lips are pressed in a tight line and he doesn’t respond.

henry sighs again. “look, i- i was wrong, okay? can you just let me apologize to him?”

“what, so you can say you’re sorry and then just do it again two days from now? no thanks,” he snaps.

henry frowns and opens his mouth to respond, but gus beats him to it.

“no, look. i know how this works okay? you’re an ass, shawn’s upset, you barely apologize, and shawn works like hell to find some ounce of forgiveness so he doesn’t have to deal with this feeling anymore. and then it happens again. and again. and i’m not letting you do it anymore.”

henry’s pretty shocked, so all he can say is gus’s name again.

gus shakes his head, and stabs a finger in henry’s direction. “no. you will walk in there, apologize, and mean it.” every word is stiff, harsh, and direct. “and then you will never talk to him again.”

henry blinks.

“not until you make an appointment with a therapist. and even then, you will only talk to shawn if he wants you to.”

henry’s still silent.

“this, all of this,” gus waves his hand around them, “is on you. it’s your fault, and it’s up to you to fix. shawn does not owe you anything.” gus pauses. “are we clear?”

henry’s never been met with this much authority before and he’s also pretty shook that he may never be able to see his son again (because he knows gus and he knows he’s dead set on these rules - this boy is the sweetest person henry’s ever met, but he can ice someone if he really means it. (i mean, he and gus lived in the same city for years after high school and gus did not see or speak to him once, and santa barbara’s not that big)).

and so henry kind of just blinks and says “okay.”

and gus’s shoulders relax just a fraction of an inch and he nods his head curtly. “wait here.”

when gus opens the door, it’s his intention to go find shawn and explain what’s going on, but instead, he finds shawn in the hallway, a shocked expression on his face, clearly having heard everything.

shawn kind of just blinks at him, and gus sighs and gently grabs his arm, leading him to the bedroom. shawn gives him a questioning look as gus shuts the door, and gus frowns and says, “he doesn’t get to hear all this.” (maybe it didn’t make a lot of sense, but, gus was mad, and he didn’t think henry deserved any more information in regards to anything shawn was thinking or feeling, so he didn’t want him to overhear their conversation).

gus asks shawn how much he heard, and shawn says everything. gus makes it clear that in no way is shawn obligated to hear henry out or accept his apology. but gus also makes it clear that shawn needs to do something about all of this (he also suggest therapy to him too - the irony that both spencer men are in desperate need of therapy and that madeline was a therapist, is not lost on him). he tells him that he knows shawn isn’t okay and shawn agrees.

for the first time, he actually admits that things with his dad can’t be ignored and that he needs help. because both gus and shawn don’t want shawn to go on like this.

and so after they talk, gus let’s henry in and henry apologizes. shawn’s still quiet and obviously awkward and uncomfortable (it’s not often he hears henry admit that he’s wrong), but he mutters “thanks” and before henry can try to awkwardly hug him, gus pushes him out and locks the door.

he pulls shawn to his chest and shawn melts into him, finding comfort in the only person that has ever mattered to him. shawn kisses gus’s collarbone softly, head resting in the crook of his neck, and he says quietly, “i love you.”

gus squeezes his husband tighter, tells him he loves him too, and then kisses him softly.

gus makes them waffles, makes shawn an appointment with a therapist, and they resume their star wars marathon.

for the first time in four days, shawn makes a joke. and when he joins gus’s laughter, it’s the same sound gus had memorized 25 years ago. it’s bright, happy, and bubbly, and it fills gus’s chest with unwavering love, but also a hope he’d thought he’d lost before.

things were going to be okay - gus was sure of it.

askjdhfk i was NOT expecting to write this much but apparently i have Thoughts about this.

anyways, i absolutely love this concept and i love you for sending this.

(also “shus is married because i said so” bABE IF THATS NOT ME EVERYDAY)

#shus #shawngus #shawn spencer #burton gus guster #burton guster #henry spencer #psych #headcannons #my writing #anon #answered #shawn x gus #shawn/gus

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dawniebb · 4 years

Text

Closure

So...back again with another marathon I’m hosting (?) with @healing-winston-pratt <3! about our canon divergence because canon is for the weak :) however, this time you’ll only see me so...yeah, guys, I’m sorry, bEAR WITH ME LMAO AFSGHJADFGSHJA :’)))

I thiiiiiink this is...the last marathon we’ll do about this I think, and it’s a series of four fics called “Closure” which is...basically, what the name says :’) it’s about people finding closure for the ones they lost throughout the books AND before the books this is about Georgia hello darling you’re wonderful im sorry mm killed you because we thought it was..necessary after that half-assed Supernova epilogue uwu. So yeah. The first one in this Closure series is Georgia :’)

You can use this post as a masterlist for backround bc we don’t have one yet

And the tag list (If you want to be addedOR removed just notifiy us pls): @novadreamer95438 @idkimbadwithusernamesandstuff @novas-tunnel-of-anxiety @obsidianfr3sk

ALSO I NAMED THESE AFTER SONGS :) So the link will be in the lyrics I hope

Georgia

I Kill Giants

Heavier heels His mourning concealed On the saddest of days Why couldn’t we save you?

A couple days after the supernova, once all the funerals had passed and things were going back to normal, Adrian went to visit his mom.

Georgia Rawles was buried inside a very ostentatious mausoleum, located in Gatlon’s cemetery.

Nobody had ever confirmed that, but rumor had it, it resembled the structure of Pops’ old house, by the edges of the city, close to the abandoned train rails; it had similar dimensions and structure, but the décor was a hundred times better, with white pillars, stairs that led to the entrance and a wooden gate with a carved R; at some point in time, all members of the Council would be there.

Right now, it was only Mom and Evander.

The mausoleum was always surrounded by gifts that people left there. And right now, since Gatlon was grieving Blacklight, the fence was open to the public.

Though…

Well…

Whether the fence was locked or not wouldn’t have mattered under normal circumstances because, obviously, Adrian had his own copy of the key, though he rarely went to see her. Not because he didn’t love her (he did. A lot. And he missed her every day despite having been torn from him when he was just a kid), but because…

Because he liked to remember her as what she had been, not for the fact she wasn’t here anymore; he liked to see her in family albums and draw her, but the mausoleum was a very…sad place for him, almost depressing.

It was also a place where he liked to be alone with Mom. And sometimes talk to her. After all, they lived in a world where people had powers; everything was possible. Which meant that, deep down, Adrian still had faith she would answer someday.

But she never answered.

Not really.

But it wasn’t like that made Adrian mad, because maybe she was too busy doing something else; maybe she was very comfortable…wherever she was. And that made him feel rather happy.

To know she was at peace.

So, slowly, Adrian walked up the stairs, and then opened the gate.

The smell of candles and flowers greeted him, for the two headstones were being visited more often these days.

The Renegades’ slogan was written on top of the wall where the headstones rested.

Bold. Valiant. Just

Written in shining silver, so they didn’t take much attention from the spots where the two fallen Council members laid.

Right now, the bottom of the wall was upholstered with Blacklight and Lady Indomitable plushies, photographs, and tons of flowers.

So many flowers, that Adrian had to, manually, remove some of them to make his way to the wall; first, he left the bouquet he had brought for Evander; he had put some snacks in it, because it had seemed…funny in a bittersweet way at the moment, and also tons of polaroid photos Adrian had taken with him some years ago, when he was trying to entertain him during a Christmas dinner.

Evander had always been Adrian’s favorite Council member, because he…was young enough to treat him as brother; of course, Evander was an adult, but that didn’t change the fact he was younger than 14 when Adrian was born, and they had always shared a rather close relationship. He was annoying at times and, during the last months he was alive, he had fallen into a bottomless pit of madness, which deformed his personality until he almost acted like a dictator.

Of course, Adrian didn’t condone that, but he still had good memories regarding Evander and he doubted he would ever get rid of those memories. Mostly because…somehow, he didn’t want to.

“May the light guide your way.”

Evander Wade. Blacklight.

Brother, husband, father, friend and hero.

Adrian supposed the right thing to do would’ve been saying something, but he hadn’t come here today to talk to Evander, so he didn’t have anything to tell him. Not really.

So he just touched the headstone, but then he moved on to his mom’s, which was to the left of Evander’s.

And there she was.

There was Mom.

“When in doubt…fly.”

Georgia Rawles. Lady Indomitable.

Sister, mother, friend and hero.

And also gone too soon, like Evander, but nobody ever wanted to say that, because it was depressing.

Gulping, Adrian placed the bouquet of white and pink roses on the floor, and ran his fingers through his mother’s name.

“You can’t see it…but I have a lot of bandages beneath my clothes.” He told her, barely able to laugh. “…because I got a ton of tattoos. I don’t know if you would’ve approved that but…yeah. I already took them off, though…in the most violent way you can imagine. But I’m doing good.”

His sentences, like it always happened, were met with cold silence, as Adrian ceased caressing the name and hugged himself, feeling the bandages that were wrapped around his body; the wounds barely hurt anymore, though. After all, they had been treated by a prodigy healer; the process was supposed to be this fast.

“I hope you’re doing good too.” Adrian said, taking a deep breath, before staring at his feet.

If he had to find a word to describe what he had been feeling since the battle of the cathedral, that word would’ve been “shock”. Because, there in the cathedral, it had been the first time somebody had told him what he had done. And his heart had been feeling heavy ever since , and Adrian didn’t know how he was going to get up from this one.

Maybe he wouldn’t.

Maybe it was something that would torment him forever unless he got help, which didn’t seem so unlikely, given that he had his dads were supportive and also willing to help him go through the process and everything.

But everything was way too heavy, just…

Knowing what he had done, even if it hadn’t been directly his fault.

“Something that seems…extremely weird, in the good sense…. Is that…” Adrian coughed. “I crossed paths with the little girl you were trying to save, and you would be happy to know she’s an amazing person…and…well…she’s my girlfriend now so, you know…she…she’s just amazing, and I love her; I guess you would’ve loved her too...”

His voice was starting to break, but Adrian chose to continue, adjusting his glasses using his pinky and sniffing.

“She’s also very broken. But she’s trying to get better, and forgive…” He said. “….I like to believe you would forgive me too, you know? Because I…I don’t know. We both know what happened. And I…”

I’m sorry.

“I loved you so much. I still do. I’m sorry my fear of losing you was bigger, until it took you away. You didn’t deserve that.” Adrian had no longer control over his shaking hands. “You were supposed to be here; to meet Nova; to be with me and I’m…I’m sorry I…I’m so sorry, mom.”

He shook and shivered, but he didn’t cry.

Not yet.

Because when he touched his mother’s headstone again, he just remembered the texture of her skin; it was always soft and warm, although her hands were a little calloused, and she smelled like violets and sun (even if people tended to insist on the fact that the sun didn’t smell like anything); he remembered how he wrapped his legs around her waist as she held him into her arms and danced with him around the apartment to Have You Ever Seen the Rain, although Adrian didn’t understand the lyrics back then and he was yet to have the guts to listen to the song again; he remembered how Mom spun around, kissing his nose, and at some point she got so lost in the moment, that her feet lifted up from the ground.

That had been a good day. And those had been a good 6 years. And while Adrian rested his head against the headstone, he almost felt the fabric of her pants, as he saw her taking out her Lady Indomitable costume and begged her to stay at home, just for today.

Now that he was older, he had grown to accept that had been her job, and he was her legacy, although not everything that was left of her.

This world. The whole twisted yet powerful everything this world had, was what was left of Georgia Rawles. And Adrian would forever be proud she was his mom, just like he was proud Hugh and Simon were his dads. Because he had fallen in the safest place he could think of.

Adrian remained like that for a while, pressing his forehead against Mom’s headstone until, through the thick blank noise, he heard knocking; three gentle knocks on the gates by the entrance, which made him jump.

And, when he turned around, all he could see was Hugh.

Which…didn’t surprise him at all.

He was wearing a jacket and jeans, but Adrian could see that his blue shirt was the one he often wore to sleep; besides, he was fidgeting with the car keys between his fingers, which only confirmed what Adrian had been thinking before leaving the house.

He should’ve had notified his dads he was leaving early; he had risen with the sun, only to be here in the cemetery before everyone else could. But he hadn’t told Hugh or Simon.

And, lately, Simon had been having trouble to sleep, so by the time the sun was rising, he often went to Adrian’s room and slept on the couch; he supposed he had tried to do that, and then he hadn’t found him, which led to immediate chaos.

Yet, Hugh didn’t seem mad.

In fact, once he put the car keys inside his pockets, he smiled.

“Mind if I join you?”

Adrian didn’t answer, but Hugh understood it was a positive answer anyway, so he went ahead; the sound of his steps created a faint echo, and when he was next to him, Hugh wrapped an arm around Adrian’s shoulder, gently.

Then, they both stared at the headstone in silence, as if they both were having their own private conversation with Georgia, in a crowded, yet very intimate scenario; a phenomena that went on until Hugh scoffed, laughing at his own thoughts, and looked at Adrian, saying:

“When your mother was pregnant, her baby bump remained hidden for quite some months; she only had a small bulge in her lower stomach…and we would always tease her about it saying that was just her abs..” He laughed. “…which would make her mad, of course. Georgia was such a mom. I feel like she really wanted to have a child, despite having acted as mom towards all of us…and she wanted to have a pretty baby bump, because she wanted to remind herself you were there….that, and cute maternity clothes, I guess.”

In response to the sudden comedy break, Adrian snorted, adjusting his glasses again.

“We can’t judge her.” He told Hugh. “We’ll never be pregnant, but we gotta admit maternity clothes are cool.”

“Oh, they were cool. And pretty expensive also. Geez, Adrian, thanks for forcing us into involuntary fasting.”

“Dad!” Adrian chuckled, punching him in the ribs, despite knowing Hugh hadn’t felt anything.

Hugh laughed with him, but his laugh, suddenly, became inexistent, and Hugh scratched his own chin, staring at the headstone. Smiling at it, and probably waiting for something that would not happen.

So he decided to speak again, although his voice sounded more hesitant, and the most…insecure Adrian had ever perceived it.

“Your dad was going crazy.”

Adrian already knew that, even if nobody had told him.

“…but I told him to calm down, because I just…knew you were here. It’s where I always come when things are rough.”

To that sentence, Adrian stared at his feet, but not yet pulling away from his father’s touch. He knew Mom and Hugh had been pretty close but, if he wanted to be honest, he had no idea he liked to come here to visit her.

“Adrian, you see…” Hugh didn’t stare at him either.

“Your mom was amazing. She was…one of the most amazing people I’ve ever meet, and I don’t think anyone that I happen to meet in the future will top her…she was an outstanding mom and just…the coolest best friend I could ever ask for.”

As Hugh’s body seemed to grow weak, Adrian felt the burning need to hold his hand, but it was far.

“…and I miss her every day, just like you; and your dad, and Tamaya, and Kasumi, and…” For a whole second, Hugh’s lips quivered when he came to the realization he had been this close to list Evander, before noticing he was also gone, so Adrian remained staring at him.

And Hugh stared back, his blue eyes looking vulnerable and just…

Weak.

So, so weak and tiny.

“You were her son. And she loved you more than I’ve ever seen a mother love her child…and I know how much you’re hurting, because I know Simon and I will never be able to fill the space she left…believe me, we’re not trying to replace her…but we’re doing our best to be enough.” He said.

“….and I understand your pain…and your grief and all the awful things you might feel when you realize you’ll never see her again…because, Adrian, I…” His lips quivered again, but this time Hugh didn’t mind to stop him.

However, Adrian could see he was choking and stumbling on his pride, which stood stubbornly in the way, until Hugh decided he was stronger, let go of Adrian and held his hand instead, tightly.

“…I need her too.” He said, almost relieved, as if a secret of a lifetime had slipped from his mouth.

“I need her so much, and I miss her so much…because she was...like a sister. She was my best friend and she’s gone, and I have to live without her and…Sometimes I feel so lost…and I just know...” As tears streamed down his face, Hugh sniffed and looked away.

“…I just know she would’ve known what to do; she would’ve known how to stop this world from falling apart… and if she were here, Evander would’ve met his baby.” Hugh stared at him again, hiccupping.

“And you look so much like her, Adrian. And I miss her so much.”

Unable to see through the fog in his glasses, Adrian removed them, as his own chest went up and down, and he barely had time to process this was the second time he had seen Hugh cry.

“I miss her too.”

And as they wrapped their arms around the other, they mourned Adrian’s mother in the most peacefully painful way possible, just the two of them, in a mausoleum full of flowers, in front of her headstone, coming to the realization that they were damaged; far too damaged, but since they were still sane enough to admit it, it wasn’t too late for them to get help; maybe they would get help, and things would finally get better when they escaped the stunted grief and all the pain Mom had left behind.

He hugged Hugh tightly as he could, feeling as if this was the first time he had ever hugged him, or hold him close.

And he felt something.

Through the dread and the pain, Adrian felt as Mom let go of his hand, leaving a cold emptiness on his wrist, which later turned into warmth due to his own temperature, and Hugh’s hold.

“Simon and you are enough.” Adrian sobbed.

“You’ll forever be enough, and I’ll never be able to put into words how much I love you.”

He meant it. Because, again, Adrian felt safe right there where he was; he felt safe in Hugh’s arms, just like he felt in Simon’s… but there were some things that needed some talking.

Things that needed some type of resolution.

Things that were awful.

Things that were broken.

Things that were shattered.

But when the world crumbled down, as long as people had the willingness to do it, it wasn’t too late to build it again.

And, after all, the first step into fixing something, was accepting the fact it was broken.

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