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queenmylovely · 5 years

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The Fourth Stage

Summary: Gardner langway x fem!reader. Gardner meets someone new along his route.

Word Count: 7.3k

Warnings: mentions of death, grief, depression, angst, cussing

A/N: This is what I wrote for my first request. It’s much darker than anything I’ve ever wrote but I tried to be as true to the request and grief as I could. Also it’s in kind of a headcanon format but it’s over 7k words so idk. I hope you like what I wrote, and any feedback including likes, replies, and reblog are greatly appreciated!

Request: Something where Gardner falls for a PoC woman who’s emotionally broken

Disclaimer: I am not Black nor do I claim to know or understand the experience of Black people or Black women specifically. I was requested to write this by an anon that requested something with a PoC woman. I welcome constructive criticism for any part of my characterization of Reader. (I will not be accepting and will delete and block any racist hate.)

Masterlist

☆☆☆

You moved into your dad’s house in May, a month after he died.

It was a sudden heart attack at work, but apparently your dad had a will, so you inherited his house. Because you wanted to keep it in good condition and didn’t have anything tying you to your current place, you moved.

You hadn’t done anything with his things so all of your boxes were piled into the garage and you lived with his stuff instead.

His death had wrecked you, and you had quit your stupid summer job because doing anything but laying down seemed impossible.

While he hadn’t been a rich man, he had left enough money that this was possible for summer; something that you would have thought was lucky if the thought of anything related to his death being lucky didn’t make you sick.

You spent all day everyday in your bed, maybe making it to the kitchen once or twice but only for saltines and peanut butter out of the jar or a can of cold chili.

The highlight of your day, if you could call it that, was taking the hottest shower you could, in an effort to feel something other than the dull ache that was knowing your dad was dead.

But all it did was leave your skin dry and stinging, the slight pain only making you feel worse because you knew it was nothing compared to what your dad had felt.

Your mom called once a week, but since you had been raised by your dad after their divorce, she had little to say and you sat silent while she tried to think of things that would cause any reaction in you other than a grunt or sigh.

About a week after you moved in, as you’re laying in bed, eyes closed but sleep never reaching you, you hear something that you had noticed the day before.

It was the sound of footsteps approaching your door followed by a metal creak and then footsteps retreating again.

Most of the time, you were too lost in your head to notice the outside world, but it just so happened that yesterday you were walking to your kitchen when it had happened and when the sound repeated itself today, you took notice.

The next day, without realizing you had been waiting for it, you heard the sound again.

After it repeated the following day, you looked at the clock, reading 3:25pm.

On the fifth day you realized it must be the sound of the mail deliverer because when you collected the mail that night at 2:00am, the mailbox made the same creaking sound.

Soon, it became a comfort to hear that sound because of how consistent it was. Part of you wondered how the mail carrier was so exact with their timing, but for the most part you didn’t really care.

Three weeks later you found yourself moving from your bed to the couch around 3:00pm and you didn’t really know why until you heard the sound. It was louder since the door wasn’t separated by any walls.

When 3:24pm rolled around everyday, you held your breath in anticipation, letting it out as soon as you heard the steps coming up the walk.

Another week later, you moved from the couch at 3:15pm, sitting against the door with a blanket until you heard the sound.

From this position, you could hear the person’s fingers against the paper of the envelopes as they grabbed them from the bag.

The next day you jump when the person coughed as they walked away; it was the first sound that really affirmed to you that it was another person outside the door.

Three days later the person sneezed just after the metal creak and you realized it was a guy.

You whispered, “Bless you” out of habit, though you knew that he would never know you said it.

Three days later, it wasn’t enough. Hearing his breathing and coughing and sneezing everyday was both too much and not enough to hear from this person you had never seen before.

You needed to make sure this person was real. Needed to know it wasn’t just the ghost of your own mind or a side effect of only sleeping in hour intervals and eating just twice a day on good days.

So, on a random Tuesday, you stood up at 3:23pm, swaying a bit from the head-rush that you got and tried to keep yourself from hyperventilating as you waited for two excruciating minutes.

When you heard the footsteps, but before the metal creak, you opened the door quickly, startling the person on your front step. He’s holding your mail in one hand and your eyes zeroed in on that and you reached out, grabbing the letters from him.

You closed the door just as fast but made sure it closed softly before dropping the mail on the floor and running back to your room.

Gardner stood on your front step, a little dumbfounded by what had just happened.

A couple of customers on his route knew when he delivered their mail, but usually they talked to him if they did.

He figured you weren’t trying to be rude though, with the gentle way you had taken the mail and closed the door. Plus, the look on your face had been more apprehensive than angry.

The next day, you stand and wait again. This time, you opened the door a little more calmly and actually looked at the guy.

He was an average looking white guy in a post office uniform. Your eyebrow raised imperceptibly at the hat he’s wearing but you just grabbed the mail again and closed the door.

Gardner looked down at himself as the door closed. He hadn’t missed the way your eyes had moved over his form. He also hadn’t missed the fact that you were wearing the same clothes as the day before.

Changing your clothes was a weekly occurrence. Somehow, your mom seemed to know that you needed to be told to, so you would after she called.

This week, you’re wearing grey sweats and one of your dad’s college sweatshirts from Howard.

Your hair was as dry as your skin from your too-hot showers. Naturally a 4a texture that you used to keep well defined was now frizzy and tangled. You didn’t have the energy to do your hair care routine anymore, only washing it and maybe pulling it into a low ponytail.

The third day he realized you’re still wearing the same thing and introduced himself before you could close the door.

“I’m Gardner.” You almost jumped when he talked, but the kind voice and harmless words reassured you.

“Y/N,” you replied, voice croaking from lack of use.

On the fourth day he said hi.

“Hi, Y/N,” he said with a closed lip smile.

“Hi Gardner,” you replied, and though the look of apprehension was gone, the smile was not returned.

Fifth day he made a comment about the weather.

“Nice weather today, nicer than yesterday.” he told you. You looked up at the sky for the first time in a while and nodded.

Sixth day he asked for the time.

“Do you have the time?” he asked as you opened the door.

“You’re wearing a watch,” you pointed out.

“It doesn’t work anymore,” he explained.

“It’s 3:25. You always come at 3:25,” you said matter-of-factly.

“Thank you,” he said with what almost looked like a little smirk but he’s turning away before you could be sure.

On the seventh day, you’re wearing different clothes. They’re still not necessarily real clothes; leggings that are pilled up and a Howard shirt, but Gardner still noticed.

“I like your shirt.”

“Thank you, it was my Dad’s,” you said, looking him in the eye. You didn’t smile, but there’s more expression in your face than before.

He nodded, knowing that if you wanted to say more you would.

Eighth day you’re wearing the same shirt but different leggings. Gardner made a comment about how it looks like it might rain.

This continued for another 10 days. Gardner always talked first, and you offered varying replies. Sometimes it’s just a nod, others it’s a sentence. You changed your clothes more often, and Gardner complimented you every time he noticed.

It’s a small thing, and the compliments were simple. “I like that shirt,” “Those pants look comfy,” or “I’m a fan of Jurassic Park too,” but whenever he said them, you got a small rush of dopamine that you’d gotten used to living without.

One day, you’re not at the door. Unbeknownst to Gardner, it’s the three month anniversary of your father’s death and nothing was enough to move you from your place on your bed. The dull pain was amplified in waves over the course of the day. Staring at the wall turned into uncontrollable sobbing in a matter of seconds and back again within minutes.

The next day, when you’re back at the door with red-rimmed eyes and puffy cheeks, Gardner didn’t mention your absence. Instead, he commented on the number of ads in today’s mail.

“That’s how you really know that the 4th of July is approaching, the mattress sales,” he joked and the corners of your mouth pulled slightly up as you grabbed the aforementioned ads and shut the door.

Another week later, Gardner walked up and when you opened the door, there’s nothing in his hands. You raised your eyebrows in a silent question.

“You don’t have any mail today,” he told you.

“Then why did you come to my door?” you asked in confusion.

“I like seeing you everyday. Part of my routine,” he said plainly.

You made a face he couldn’t quite decipher and replied, “Okay.”

“That’s a good color on you,” he gestured to your shirt which was a dark green.

“Thank you,” you said, supposing that the pine colored shirt did compliment your dark brown skin well.

“You’re welcome,” he replied, turning around and walking away. You watched him until he got to the edge of your yard, noticing the way he trudged as he walked and how he looked down at his feet. Shrugging to yourself, you closed the door.

Three days later you opened the door and before he could say anything you talked, “Gardener’s your first name?”

“Yeah, but without the ‘e.’”

“Okay,” you replied and he handed you the mail.

Three days later, it hit 100 degrees and you felt it even in the air conditioned house.

You opened the door as Gardner was at the edge of your yard and watched him approach. It’s not until he’s just five feet away that he noticed the door’s open, a side effect of watching the sidewalk.

It’s easy to see the sweat that’s sticking his shirt to his chest, dripping down his neck, and darkening the rim of his hat. Even after only being outside for under a minute, you could feel the beginnings of sweat on your body as well.

Gardner looked at you as you stood there before reaching into his bag for your mail. You looked as if you wanted to say something, so he didn’t interrupt you with talk of the weather as he had planned.

“It’s too hot out,” you stated.

“I agree,” he agreed.

“I mean, it’s too hot for you to be outside,” you clarified.

“Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds,” he recited.

You shook your head in slight frustration and then rushed out, “Do you want to come inside for a minute to get out of the heat?”

“Oh, um, sure I can do that,” he replied. As you stepped away from the doorway, he walked in and you closed the door behind him.

You led him to the kitchen which was freshly cleaned. When you realized how hot it was this morning and decided to invite him in, you had cleaned the kitchen in a fury.

Growing up, your dad had always made sure to clean the house well before guests came over, and made sure you did the same. The thought of disappointing him in that small way gave you enough energy to do the work that you hadn’t done the whole time you lived there.

You pulled down two cups from the cupboard and filled them with cool water. You set them on the table, sitting down and gesturing for him to do the same.

“I didn’t put ice ‘cause you’re not supposed to shock your system with water that’s too cold, but this should still be refreshing,” you told him.

“That’s good to know, thank you,” Gardner replied before gulping down the whole glass. You quirked your lips at his actions. He was trying to act like he was okay, but obviously he was having trouble dealing with the heat.

As you stood to refill his water, he looked at you a little more carefully. You’re wearing black running shorts that he’s seen before, but instead of the sweatshirt that you had paired with them, you’re wearing that t-shirt you had been wearing the first day he complimented your appearance. This time, it was knotted in front and the sleeves were cuffed so less fabric was touching your skin.

Garner tried not to look too hard at the exposed skin of your arms and legs, forcing his eyes up to your hair. At first, he had thought it was in a low ponytail like it was sometimes, but as he really looked now, he could tell it’s in one braid that hits between your shoulder blades. He could see the curls even in the plait, and as you turned around, he noticed that a couple of curls had escaped and were framing your face.

“Your hair looks nice,” he said softly.

You reached up and felt the braid. “Oh, I was cleaning,” you said, almost more to yourself than him. To keep your hair out of your face while cleaning, you always used to pull it into a simple braid. You hadn’t even realized you had done so today.

The two of you sat in silence for a minute until Gardner spoke up, “This is a really nice house.”

You could tell by the way he said it that he’s kind of purposely not asking any questions, just complimenting, but you slightly answered anyway, “Yeah, it was my dad’s.”

“Like the shirt,” he said as he pointed to the shirt you’re wearing.

You looked down and laughed, a sound he hadn’t heard yet. It’s a sound that surprised you as well; you hadn’t heard it in months. All of a sudden, it’s all you could do as an almost hysterical laugh took over your body. You’re laughing, gasping for air, and wiping the beginnings of tears from your eyes for a full minute before you answered, “Yeah, like the shirt,” in between giggles.

Gardner, to his credit, didn’t look freaked out and instead was smiling at the sound of your laughter. He decided that he really liked the sound, and would love to hear it again.

The two of you were smiling at each other for the better part of a minute before you dropped your gaze and took a sip of your water. Gardner copied you, waiting for you to make the next move.

You’re tapping your fingernails against the glass and looking into the water as you said your next words, “He died in April.”

Gardner nodded, but you only saw it from the corner of your eye. He had suspected for a while that something had happened. Well, really since April. While he had never met your dad, he noticed the mail pile up and then the change in only the first name on all of the mail. “That sucks.”

“It does,” you replied and took another sip of your water. You appreciated that he didn’t say I’m sorry like most people do and wondered what’s happened to him that he knew that those words don’t really help.

There’s a comfortable silence for another few minutes before Gardner finished his second glass and cleared his throat, standing up.

“Thank you for the water and for letting me come in here and cool off. I’ve gotta finish my route, so I have to go,” he informed you and you nodded.

“You’re welcome, Gardner,” you said as you led him back to your front door. You waved as he went out onto the front step, “Bye.”

“Bye,” he said back and started down the walk. Just before he reached the edge of your yard, he turned and looked back at you, smiling when he saw you hadn’t closed the door yet. You smiled back before closing the door.

Two days later, on Friday, it’s hot again, but it didn’t reach 100. You decided to invite him in anyway.

When you opened the door and he handed you your mail, you asked him, “Do you want to come inside again?”

He made a face you couldn’t quite comprehend. His eyes were squinty and his mouth was pressed down in a firm line. After a second, he replied.

“I actually can’t today. I have more mail than usual and I can’t get off track.”

“Oh,” you said, casting your eyes downwards and you started to slowly close the door.

“But I can come back after my route…?” Gardner offered, wanting to see you again.

“Okay,” you answered, the slightest of smiles creeping its way onto your face.

Gardner nodded and told you he’d be back around 5:30 and just as he started to turn away, you told him to wait.

You ran to your kitchen, grabbing a water bottle and filling quickly with water and just a bit of ice. Rushing back to the front door, you held it out to him and said, “At least take the water so you can stay hydrated.”

“Thank you. I’ll bring it back when I come back,” he said before waving and walking away.

You closed the door behind him and sat down on your living room couch. You sat there for a while, feeling something that you couldn’t quite place.

The feeling kept building slowly, and when you felt a drop in your stomach, you realized what it was. You’re nervous. It’s something you hadn’t felt in a long time.

Since all you typically felt was the numbness, dull ache, or shooting pain, and now the calmness that came everyday at 3:25, you hadn’t recognized it at first.

Now, it was all you felt and you had to remind yourself to breathe in and out at a regular pace so you could remain at least a little calm.

Standing up, you walked to your bathroom and splashed some cold water on your face.

You looked in the mirror, taking in your appearance and seeing someone changed by grief.

Your hair was still in the braid from two days ago, and was very loose and frizzy. You took out the braid and shook it loose, watching it fall limply to the sides of your head, the natural volume and shape washed out by the harshness of the hot water. Knowing there wouldn’t be enough time for an entire routine, you pulled it into a much tighter french braid and called it good.

Next, you took in your face and how sunken your eyes were. Lack of sleep did wonders for the bags under your eyes.

Your skin looked dry and so did your lips. Trying to find some way to remedy this, you looked under the sink for lotion or something. Thankfully, your dad was very diligent about staying moisturized, and there’s shea and cocoa butter that you pull out.

Once you grabbed those, you could see what was behind them and smiled to yourself. It was a big jar of coconut oil, and you sent a little thank you to your dad. You used the butters to moisturize and the oil to help tame the baby hairs at the crown of your head before leaving for your bedroom.

There, you put on one of your less dingy pairs of black leggings, a black tank top, and one of your dad’s flannel shirts that you left unbuttoned.

You spent the next hour or so that you had to wait cleaning up the little mess that had accumulated since he last came inside.

At 5:31, you heard a knock at the door and opened it, as you had already been standing there.

“Hi, Y/N,” he said with a slight smile, even though he seemed to be a little out of breath.

“You’re late,” you said seriously.

“I’m sorry, my brother Calvin wouldn’t let me leave without telling me about his day, it took longer than I thought. I practically ran over here,” he said in a rush, with a worried look on his face.

“I’m joking,” you reassured him with a small smile and a little laugh. His face relaxed and he smiled back at you. “You’re only a minute late, so that doesn’t even count. Come in.”

“Thanks for understanding. I try to be very punctual,” he said as you led him into the living room and you both sat on the couch.

“I’ve noticed. I think that’s a good quality, but you shouldn’t stress yourself out about it.”

“I didn’t want you to think that I wasn’t going to come or anything,” he explained.

“Well, you could’ve texted me or something.”

“I- um, I don’t have your number,” he pointed out, cheeks getting a little red, and not from the running.

“Oh, that’s right. Here, where’s your phone?” you said, reaching your hand out towards him. He pulled it out of his pocket and handed it over. You quickly went into his contacts and added yourself. You handed back his phone and he looked at it, a fond little smile coming onto his face. “There. You know, I like the uniform, but it’s kinda nice to see you out of it.”

Gardner was wearing just an orange and white striped polo shirt and jeans. He flushed slightly at your words but smiled back and barely whispered, “thank you.”

A slight silence fell, but neither of you really seemed to mind. Gardner was taking in your living room and you’re taking in him.

He was really a very unassuming person but he was actually pretty cute and you always found yourself unusually calm in his presence. Even after the afternoon that was filled with nerves, as soon as you opened the door and laid eyes on him, everything had evened out.

“So you have a brother?” you asked, breaking the silence. His eyes flicked back over to you when you spoke and he nodded.

“Yeah, Calvin. We live together. Well, I live in front of the house. In a boat,” he told you.

“A boat?” you said, your eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

“A boat on stilts,” he explained.

“Do you ever take it out?” you asked, slowly understanding what he meant.

“Not really.”

“Mm. What does Calvin do?” you said to switch the subject since he didn’t really seem to want to talk about the boat.

“He works at a mechanic shop. It’s pretty good work, he likes it.”

“The one in town?”

“Yeah, I mean it’s the only one in town, so yeah,” he replied.

“Then I’ve been there. Maybe I saw him. It was a little while ago, though. Last year,” you continued.

“He’s shorter than me. Great hair though,” he said.

“Hmmm, I think I’d remember great hair,” you said with a chuckle and Gardner joined in.

“Do you wanna see the rest of the house? A tour?” you asked him after a second and he nodded happily.

You stood up with him and guided him towards the hallway. First, you pointed to the bathroom then walked down to the bedrooms.

Opening the door to your dad’s room, you felt a slight shiver run over you. It’s a mixture of how cold the room is since the door is always closed and the same pang you felt in your heart every time you looked in.

Usually, you looked around the room every couple of days, wanting to feel closer to your dad, and sometimes you got the best sleep on his bed, lying on top of the comforter. Still, every look reminded you that he’s gone.

You looked around the room as Gardner stood next to you. Unknowingly, you brought a hand to your chest as if you were trying to ease the pain that was there.

Seeing the physiological manifestation of your grief, Gardner felt his own heart hurting for you. He could relate to how horrible the first months were without a parent.

Carefully and slowly, he reached out and placed his hand on your shoulder, squeezing it and then leaving it there. It comforted you, and when you finally swallowed the lump in your throat, you moved your hand from your chest to his hand and held it there for a moment before turning around and showing him your room across the hall.

It was still a bit of a mess, but all of the trash had been removed and your dirty clothes were piled into the overflowing hamper. Gardner didn’t seem put off by that fact and looked around your room.

It was technically the spare room, but when you stayed there with your dad, it had practically been your room and was partially filled with little things your dad knew you liked.

On the windowsill were a couple beeswax candles. The top of the dresser had an interesting mix of children’s books and classics with a boxset of The Lord of the Rings on one side and of Star Trek: The Next Generation on the other as bookends.

“The Next Generation?” he asked in amusement.

“Definitely, it’s a classic,” you returned.

“Hmmm, I was always more fond of the Original Series,” he stated with a smirk.

“Well, I hate to inform you, but you’ve been missing out on the best Star Trek has to offer,” you said, only slightly teasing.

“I’m not sure about that…” he said, definitely teasing.

“Why don’t we watch it and see?” you countered with a smile that he quickly returned.

“Deal.”

You grabbed the box set and the two of you headed back to the living room. You popped the disc into the player and turned on the TV. As it started up, you realized this is the first time you’d be watching anything you used to watch with your dad without him.

Your breath hitched for a second, and Gardner noticed, turning his head to look at you. He saw how the look on your face had changed.

“Are you okay?” he asked, concerned.

You took a second to breathe again and then nodded slowly, “...yeah, I just used to watch this with my dad and haven’t since he died.”

“We don’t have to watch it if you don’t want,” he offered.

“No, I do want to,” you told him, making sure to look at him so he could see the clarity in your eyes. He nodded and the two of you turned your attention back to the screen.

The two of you watched the episode, laughing at the funny parts and gasping at the surprises. By the end of it, you felt content, except for one thing.

“Gosh, are you starving? I swear my stomach was rumbling through the last 20 minutes,” you said with an easy laugh.

“That was you? I thought it was the show,” Gardner said with a twinkle in his eye.

“Shut up,” you said, giggling and Gardner joined in. “How do you feel about a pizza?”

“That sounds great,” he said with a grin.

“Good, what kind do you like? I like pepperoni, so we can do half and half if you like something else.”

“I like plain cheese,” he confessed a little sheepishly.

“Sounds like a plan,” you said, picking up your phone and heading into the kitchen to find the pizza place’s number. You dug through a drawer your dad had with all that type of stuff and found it, placing an order for a delivery in half an hour.

You walked back in the living room and found Gardner sitting there with his hands in his lap, the TV paused.

“You didn’t have to pause the TV, I’ve seen all of these before,” you told him, sorry that he was probably bored.

“I wanted to watch with you,” he explained and you smiled, feeling your cheeks get a little warm.

You complied, sitting down on the couch and resuming the next episode. About ¾ of it passed before the pizza came, and you paused it again to get up and pay. Bringing the box into the kitchen, you beckoned Gardner to follow and he did willingly; his own stomach had started to rumble halfway into the second episode.

Pulling two plates down, you handed one to him and the two of you placed two slices each before grabbing a couple napkins.

“We can go back in the living room,” you informed him and he followed, you. Both of you dug in as soon as you pressed play.

Before long, the entire pizza was gone and the fourth episode was almost done. You noticed Gardner yawning into his hand and when it’s over, you offered to drive him home. He protested at first, but you insisted since it’s nearing 10:30pm and it’s already dark outside.

The drive was mainly quiet, the only words being said were Gardner’s directions. After about 10 minutes, you pulled up behind a boat on stilts. You laughed a little because part of you had doubted its existence, but there it was.

As Gardner started to reach for the door, you spoke up, “So what’s the verdict? Do you admit that TNG is better than TOS?”

He turned and looked at you with a slight smirk, “I don’t know. I’m still not sure that Picard can hold a candle to Kirk.”

“Okay, how dare you? Guess you’ll just have to watch more until you’re converted,” you told him, looking at him with a smile and a sure look in your eyes.

“Sounds like a plan. See you Monday,” he told you, opening the door and getting out. “Oh! I forgot your water bottle, it’s in the boat, I’ll go get it!”

He closed the door and started to jog away but you rolled down the window.

“Wait, Gardner!” you called out and he came back. “Don’t worry about it, you just keep it. You’ll get more use out of it than I would.”

“Okay,” he said, still a little unsure. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. See you Monday,” you told him and then drove away as he waved.

The drive back felt different. You didn’t drive much these days, only when you were absolutely out of food and could no longer ignore the hunger pangs in your body.

But, it’s kind of nice to drive again, and you felt happy for a second thinking about how nice the night was with Gardner. You got excited as you turned off your car to go inside and tell your dad all about it; he had always been incredibly supportive and understanding with your dating.

You left your car and used your keys to open the front door. Just as you opened your mouth to call out to your dad, you realized your mistake and the shock ran through your entire body.

Falling to your knees right there in front of the door, sobs racked your body and you had no choice but to give yourself up to them. That night, you fell asleep on your dad’s bed, having crawled to his room to try and find some comforting feeling there.

The next two days you spent all of your time in his bedroom, trying your hardest to feel his presence.

Monday came around and so did Gardner. Whatever kind of normalcy you had returned and the week continued on. On Friday, you invited Gardner over again to keep watching Star Trek.

This time, you ordered Chinese food and Gardner made you laugh as he tried to teach you to use chopsticks.

The summer heat had finally broken, and nights were finally getting cooler. Earlier in the day, you had opened the windows, and now they were letting in a cool breeze that was actually making you chilly and you noticed that Gardner had goosebumps.

Getting up during the theme song, you went to the hallway closet and grabbed a fuzzy blanket. Sitting back down, you draped it over both you and Gardner, and you had to sit closer so it covered the both of you.

Gardner thanked you and his voice cracked a little because the warmth he could feel radiating from your thigh touching his.

The two of you went back to watching the show, but between the blanket and Gardner’s warmth, you felt extremely cozy and started getting sleepy. Blinking slowly and yawning every couple of minutes, you tried to fight off the tiredness, but within 10 minutes, you’re dozing off.

Gardner noticed your tiredness but didn’t think too much of it until your head slumped over onto his shoulder. He turned his head and could see the profile of your face. Your eyes were closed and your face relaxed, your mouth just barely open.

He stayed as still as he could for a few minutes until he’s sure you’re deep asleep. Then, ever so slowly, he moved his arm from underneath your head so it could rest just above your shoulders on the couch.

Even in your sleep, you moved instinctively further into him, angling your head to lay on his chest and your legs came up onto the seats of the couch, pushing you further onto him. Your motion caused his arm to fall onto your shoulders and he left it there as you hummed happily in your sleep.

Eventually, your closeness and the soft sounds of the TV that he had turned down so as to not wake you up lulled Gardner to sleep as well.

The two of you remained sleeping until the morning. The sun shining brightly through an east-facing window was what woke you as it was directly on your face.

You kept your eyes closed so the sun didn’t blind you and immediately felt a pain in your neck. You thought to yourself that you must have slept wrong. That thought confused you, though, since normally you didn’t fall asleep long enough to cause any aches or pains.

The next thing that confused you was the movement you felt underneath your head. Bringing a hand up to shield your eyes from the sun, you opened your eyes and blinked rapidly, trying to get the sleep out of your eyes and take in your surroundings.

You gasped, moving your hand to cover your mouth as you realized that the thing moving underneath you was Gardner’s chest.

He’s still asleep. His head was leaning on the back of the couch, his mouth open, and you could hear his slow breathing. His right arm was resting on the arm of the couch and his left fell from your shoulders to your waist when you sat up to look at him. He had almost no blanket on him and you cringed at yourself for hogging the blanket.

You cringed again thinking how awkward it’s about to be when he woke up.

Pushing past your hesitation, you gently shook his shoulder, saying, “Gardner, wake up.”

Slowly, he started stirring and stretched inwardly, his arm tensing against your waist as he did. His eyes blinked open and he sleepily looked at you, confusion running onto his face as he saw how light it is.

“What time is it?” he asked worriedly.

“Ummm, 9:30am,” you informed him, looking at your phone.

“I’m so sorry, I fell asleep. I didn’t mean to impose. You just kind of fell asleep on me and I didn’t want to move until you woke up on your own but I guess I fell asleep too,” he rambled, looking around him. He saw his arm on your waist and quickly pulled it back to his side, blushing furiously.

“Gardner, it’s okay,” you told him, reaching for his hand at his side. “If anything it’s my fault because I fell asleep on you. Seriously, it’s all good.”

He looked at his hand in yours and nodded, looking up to you when you gave it a squeeze.

“Do you want some breakfast?” you asked. He nods again and you stood up to lead him to the kitchen.

This week, when you had gone grocery shopping, you had gotten more things than usual. That taste of pizza the previous Friday had reminded you how good cooked food was and you started actually cooking for yourself again.

You grabbed pancake mix and the griddle from the cupboard and got started.

Gardner chatted to you about how Calvin makes waffles but he likes pancakes too and about the events of the episodes the two of you watched last night.

He made you laugh with his theories about Riker and Deanna, and Picard and Dr. Crusher. The two of you shared little stories over pancakes; you told him a little about your dad and he told you about his friends at work and along the route.

After the two of you eat, he said that he should be on his way and that he could walk this time. You acquiesced, with the condition that he texted you when he got back so you would know he made it.

He opened your front door and stepped onto the front porch before turning back to say goodbye.

“Thanks for the food, it was good,” he said, a little awkward because he didn’t know where the two of you stood.

“You’re welcome,” you said, stepping out of the doorway and up to him. Placing a hand on his shoulder, you leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek and then told him softly, “I’ll see you soon, Gardner,” before going back inside and closing the door softly behind you.

Gardner stayed standing there for a moment, reaching a hand up to his cheek and repeating, “soon.”

He remembered to text you as soon as he got back, walking into the house instead of climbing into the boat. Calvin spotted him walking through the kitchen and called him into the backyard for a game of horseshoes.

“Hey, man. How’s it going?” he asked as he picked up his shoes.

“Pretty good,” Gardner replied, picking his own up.

“You look kinda tired… Aren’t those the clothes you were wearing yesterday? Holy shit, did you stay the night at that girl’s place?” he asked gleefully, putting the pieces together. He tossed his first shoe and missed by a foot.

“Y/N, and yes, and yes. But we just slept. Well, she fell asleep on me on her couch and then I fell asleep too. My neck kinda hurts,” Gardner explained, rubbing his neck then throwing his first shoe, ringing it.

“Shit. Does she like you?” Calvin asked before throwing his second one that landed so it’s touching then pumping his fist in celebration.

“I don’t know, Cal. Maybe? She’s going through a rough time, her dad died a couple months ago and I don’t think she’s totally herself yet. You remember what I was like when they left,” he reminded him, throwing another ringer.

Calvin nodded in agreement. Gardner had been changed forever when his parents abandoned him, but that first year was especially brutal. Tossing his shoe first, and getting a ringer, he asked, “You like her though?”

“Yeah, I really really do. I know I don’t actually know the real or normal her, but I swear sometimes I get these flashes of her and it’s like the sun coming out after a cloudy day,” he said, pausing to throw his last one; it spun around the peg before landing on top of the other two. “But she’s amazing all the time. She’s kind and trusting and giving and non judgmental.”

“Why do you always win?” Calvin muttered under his breath before responding. “Well, she sounds great. Good luck.”

The pattern continued with you and Gardner, although it ramped up in frequency. He started coming over almost every other day, and the next weekend, asked you to dinner at a restaurant in town. Although you’re a little apprehensive, since you know Gardner will be there for you, you agreed.

It’s a great night and the two of you ate and then walk around the river, talking for hours. That night, when you dropped him off at the boat, you asked to see it and he welcomed you gladly.

You shared your first kiss after he brought you inside. Gardner was unsure at first, but you just pulled him closer and he lost his nerves when you placed his hands on your waist and then ran your own through his hair.

After a little while of making out, you decided to leave, knowing you aren’t ready for anything else. Giving him a final peck on the lips, you climbed back out of the boat and drove home. That night, you slept in your own bed, making it all through the night and only waking up once.

From then on, the two of you split your time together at your house, his boat, and going places in town. About once a week, you joined him on his route for an hour or so.

Gardner made you laugh, but also knew when you’re especially missing your dad and talked to you about him so his memory could comfort you.

One night, after the fifth season finale of Star Trek, you and he were cuddling on the couch. You’re sitting upright and his head’s in your lap facing the ceiling. Your hand was moving in little circles on his upper arm and he’s watching your face as you watched the credits.

It was a scene that was not uncommon between the two of you, but Gardner can’t seem to be able to help himself as he breathed out, “I love you.”

Your eyes snapped to his, and though he might have wished you missed the words, you heard them loud and clear and were looking at him in a way he can’t decipher.

“You do?”

“Yeah, um, I do,” he said, averting his eyes from your gaze. He knew that it might be too soon, but once he had the thought, it left his brain through his mouth and there was nothing he could do about it.

Gardner’s cheeks and neck are blushing red as he looked away, but you moved your hand to their junction, and used his jaw to turn his face and eyes back to you.

“I love you too, Gardner,” you told him earnestly.

He sat up and turned to you, mouthing “really,” and you nodded. His hands moved to your face and you moved yours to the back of his neck. When he didn’t close the gap, you did, pulling him to you and kissing him softly to assure him of the meaning behind your words.

Life continued, and you relished the last two weeks of summer before you had to go back to school. Since it would only be a 30 minute commute, you decided to continue living at your dad’s house.

You started to move your things out of the garage and into the house, packing away things of your dad’s that hold less significance to make room.

There will still be bad days in the future, and you won’t know when they’re coming or how long they’ll be. But, you know you have Gardner to lean on, and while he can’t take away your pain, he can offer you some comfort as you deal with it.

★★★

Taglist: @somekindof-cheese @gwilyoubemine @deacytits @supersonicfreddie @siriuslovesmarlene @bowiequeen @acdeaky @deakysgirl @sunflower-borhap-boys @deakyfordays @queensilveryrog @happy-at-home @ceruleanrainblues

I just kinda created this taglist so if you would like to be taken off or added, just send me a message or ask!

Reminder that my requests are open! If you would like something in a sort of one shot format/length or blurb, etc. send it in! I’ll write for any of the Borhap or Queen boys (Freddie only platonically), Lucy, Patrick Murray, Gardner Langway and adult!Tim Murphy or possibly any of the other characters these people have played if I know enough about them!

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joe-mazzello-archive · 4 years

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hey gang, it’s me, regan, your favorite slut. i’m about to hit 500 followers on this blog which is bonkers considering this blog is only seven months old. however my creative energy has been zapped from me almost entirely lately for a few different reasons. so instead of doing prompts or posting a new fic (oh how i wish doj part two was done for y’all!!!!), i’m gonna do something different.

introducing regan’s recommended fic list - part one!

i wanted to give all the writers in this fandom some love. so i’m going to post one of these for each borhap actor/member of queen! maybe i can help y’all find some writers you’ve never discovered before! this is gonna be a long post so imma put it under the cut. ENJOY!

disclaimer: any actors/characters excluded from these lists are excluded simply because i don’t particularly read fics for them. these are just personal recommendation lists! ALSO you should check out the entire masterlists for all of these writers! these are just my favorite fics from them!

first up, of course, is joe muthafuckin mazzello

** = smut, 18+ only. some listed as “(series)” may have 18+ parts, if you’re under 18, please heed writer warnings.

bold = all time faves

NOW UPDATED AS OF 7/3/21

rpf

always something there to remind me (series), born to love you (series), between the lines, and you make me feel like dancing** by @deacyblues

baseball**, make you mine**, shooting the moon**, do you remember**, and burning desire** by @almightygwil

a thing for hermia and just a job by @brianmays-hair @/inkwell-musings

a new place to begin (series)**, home sweet home**, and plastic dinosaur** by @supersonicfreddie

none for todd** and drunk in love** by @mrbenhardys

positive reinforcement** by @queenmylovely

truth and kinks**, first time**, and first date** by @m0etenchandon

human connection by @mrhoemazzello

date night** and come on so heavy** by @just-my-sickly-pride

what would it take to think about me any other way?**, you can keep the heart from the heartbreak, i don’t need to leave with a keepsake**, and stuck in quarantine** by @slutforbritdick

meant to go this way and seven minutes in heaven by @fallingprincess

cruel summer (series) by @mistymazzello

act two, scene two** and you’re out** by @doing-all-write

love is strange by @kill4hqueen

seaside rendezvous (series) by @illfoandillfie

does it hurt? by @gogogolilqueenie

nutella boy (series) and just like this by @brianprobablywill

happy birthday baby** by @orwocolor

what happens in vegas (series) and just go with it (series) by @sohoneyspreadyourwings

lingerie** by @freddiesaysalright

drunk & beautiful and you don’t have to be alone by @lunie-lovegood @/mo-d3ans

stress relief (series) by @a-night-at-the-0pera

pat murray

cold is the night (series) by @ladyfogg

love with its back turned** by @gardnerlangway @/spreadyovrwings

paper rings (series) and you’re okay by @patmvrray

gardner langway

lady in red (series) by @gardnerlangway @/spreadyovrwings

calling you by @ai-suru-hito-yo

signed, sealed, delivered, i’m yours by @fairytales-of-yesterday

and then there were two and with you by @sohoneyspreadyourwings

tim murphy (that gif gives me adult tim vibes idc fight me)

neighbor by @patmvrray

you make me live**, my love, my life, at sunset, and something new by @drtimmurphy

six questions by @gotboredwrote

always been you by @sohoneyspreadyourwings

#joe mazzello #pat murray #gardner langway #tim murphy #joe mazzello x reader #pat murray x reader #gardner langway x reader #tim murphy x reader #joe mazzello x you #joe mazzello fic #joe mazzello fanfic #joe mazzello fluff #joe mazzello smut #pat murray fluff #pat murray smut #gardner langway fluff #gardner langway smut #tim murphy fluff #tim murphy smut

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justapurrcat · 5 years

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Fics to Love and Appreciate

Extremely wonderful fics wrote by extremely talented people, simple as that.

... yes, they’re all about Joe Mazzello and his characters. I’m a Joe girl. I’m sorry. Or maybe not.

Series

Joe Mazzello

All is Merry and Bright – @crazylittlethingcalledobsession

Just Go With It – @sohoneyspreadyourwings

My Sweet Lord – @ursoself-satisfying

Natural Selection – Holy Spirit – @mrbenhardys

On the Frontline – @justasupersonicwoman

Stress Relief – @a-night-at-the-0pera

Virtues Uncounted – @a-night-at-the-0pera

Eugene Sledge

Sincerely Yours – @sohoneyspreadyourwings

Gardner Langway

A Bit of Sunshine – @for-my-life-still-ahead-pity-me

Anchored, But Irradiated – Role Reversal – @gotboredwrote

Unconditionally – @ladyfogg

Pat Murray

Cold is the Night – @ladyfogg

paper rings: a series – @patmvrray

One-shots and Headcanons

Joe Mazzello

baseball – @almightygwil

make you mine – @almightygwil

moonlight – @hardyzello

Moving Day – @sohoneyspreadyourwings

Oranges – @rogerina-yee-haw

Sex Ed – @deakyfordays

The Mistletoe Plan – @sohoneyspreadyourwings

Your Former A-hole Friend – @spacedustmazzello

Eugene Sledge

Dance With Me? – @sohoneyspreadyourwings

Dog Tags – @brian-roger-deaky-and-fred

The Lily of Death Valley – @gotboredwrote

Gardner Langway

1600 Kismet Avenue – @gotboredwrote

Long Away – @marielle-heller

Mouse

Of Mice and Men – @writeyourownlifestory

Pat Murray

Never Have I Ever – @sohoneyspreadyourwings

A Whole Lotta Love – @ursoself-satisfying

Love With Its Back Turned – @gardnerlangway

Tim Murphy

Six Questions – @gotboredwrote

Jungle Love – @39-seas-of-rhye

#joe mazzello fanfic #joe mazzello x reader #eugene sledge fanfic #eugene sledge x reader #gardner langway fanfic #gardner langway x reader #morris mouse sanderson fanfic #morris mouse sanderson x reader #pat murray fanfic #pat murray x reader #tim murphy fanfic #tim murphy x reader

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fairytales-of-yesterday · 4 years

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Signed, Sealed, Delivered (I’m Yours)

A/N: a late christmas present for one of the best people I’ve ever known :)

@gardnerlangway this one’s for you, my love

summary: christmas with your favorite mail carrier :)

word count: 4.1k

warnings: none!! simply loving fluff!! (unless you’re rowan, in which case this will make you cry)

(please forgive any typos!!)

“Happy Christmas!”

Gardner blinked. He woke up that morning thinking he knew what the day would bring. He had expected it to be chilly, and it was. He had expected to finish his route slightly early, and he was about to. He had expected to eat lunch at his usual spot, and he did. He had expected to see you, his favorite customer, his new best friend, and there you were. He had been excited to see you, like always. What he had not expected was the carefully wrapped box you were holding out to him. He had also not expected to be this flustered by how beautiful you look in that yellow sweater he’d delivered to you a few days back, but that was beside the point.

“For… me?” He looked down at the small parcel in awe. You had to suppress a giggle at the little “O” his mouth formed as he stared at your hands.

“Yes for you!” You laughed, extending your arms towards him even further. He took the box from you gingerly, as if what was inside could break with the slightest touch.

“I can hold your bag while you open it? If you want?” You offered with a grin. When you saw him hesitate for a second you quickly added, “I’m dead vague about mail carrier protocol, so if that’s not allowed I totally understand! I just thought I’d offer.”

“N-no! No it’s okay,” he blushed a bit, handing back the box before taking the bag off his shoulder and passing it to you. He didn’t miss the way your eyes lit up as you slung it across your body, and he couldn’t help but grin softly at your excitement.

“Sorry,” you laughed, giddy, “I’ve just always wanted to wear one of these! Makes you feel important, yeah?”

To say that Gardner was speechless was an understatement. No one he had ever met had even pretended to care about his job, much less actually been curious about it. Granted, this wasn’t the first time you had shown interest in his humble occupation, but it still surprised him. All he could do was nod sheepishly with a pink tinge on his cheeks as you passed him the gift.

When he had it in his hands again, he stared at it for a moment, not yet opening it. You noticed his gaze.

“I uh.. I tried to find a wrapping paper that matched the color blue you wear, and I know it’s not perfect, but I think I got pretty close!”

You’d gotten blue wrapping paper. You’d gotten his blue. He laughed quietly in disbelief, and you very nearly had to physically restrain yourself from clutching your heart at the sound. He began to gently tear into the paper, and you watched with eager eyes. When he finally got into the box, he paused with a quiet gasp. Staring back at him was a pile of letters. Old letters. Very old letters. He softly rested his hand on them, only to realize they were sitting atop a pair of soft, dark blue, knit gloves. He looked up at you in shock and you gave him a genuine, soft smile.

“I found the letters in an antique shop a while ago, and they all had such lovely stamps on them! I only know about a few of them, google was kind to me, but the others I couldn’t find.”

Gardner couldn’t even speak.

“Oh! And I figured that you were pretty sick of having to touch all those freezing cold mailboxes all the time, and I’ve never seen you wearing gloves, so I made those, and all blues just remind me of you.”

Gardner prayed that you thought his cheeks and nose were pink because of the cold. It wouldn’t be wrong, but there were definitely more factors involved in the equation. It took him a moment to even think of what he could say. No amount of words would be able to fully convey how truly touched he was by your kindness.

“Gosh I… Thank you,” he breathed quietly. You grinned softly, very proud of yourself for making him speechless. He looked up at you with wonder in his eyes, and you felt like the air had been knocked out of you. Gardner had only marched into your life a few months ago when you moved to Austin, but he had quickly managed to walk into your heart as well. Every cup of tea the two of you had quickly shared before he set off to his next house, every slight smile and polite wave, every quiet laugh you got from him when you told him a new joke, every evening chat the two of you had on your front porch on the rare occasions he accepted a dinner invitation… you had fallen hard. That sweet, somewhat stubborn, shy mail carrier had somehow managed to occupy all your waking thoughts. He must’ve been exhausted with the way he’d been walking the whole city and running through your head every day. He was just so… him. So kind and gorgeous and passionate and him. God him.

“Oh, love, of course!”

His face reddened at the term of endearment, and you smiled even wider. He ran his fingers over the letters, smiling softly to himself, still in complete awe that anyone would do something so nice for him.

“Wait,” he gasped as your words caught up with him, “you made these?” You grinned bashfully as you watched him pull out the gloves in amazement.

“I did! I hadn’t made anything other than scarves in a while, but I’m still proud of them!”

He looked up at you seriously, with a watery smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“They’re perfect.”

You beamed and did a mock curtsy as a thank you, drawing out another soft giggle from him. You were enjoying yourself immensely just seeing him so happy, when you saw his brow furrow in slight confusion.

“Hold on, Christmas is a week away,” he said, tearing his gaze away from his gift. Apparently it was your turn to be sheepish, and he watched a slight blush creep over your cheeks.

“Well, I… I didn’t know when you’d be off for Christmas, and I’ve been trying to find something for you for a while, and then the knitting took a minute, but I wanted to make sure I caught you before you went on holiday or something, and I was really excited to give it to you, so… here it is.”

When you met his eyes again, you had to stop yourself from laughing. He had the most awestruck look on his face you’d ever seen.

“You… you thought about all of that?”

“I mean, yeah! I wanted you to have your gift! Plus, you’ll get to use the gloves!”

It might have been 30 degrees outside, but Gardner had never felt warmer or happier in his life.

The soft, nearly dopey smile on his face made you giggle, and he blushed again. He wanted so badly to truly thank you, to tell you how much all of this meant to him, but all he could do was look at you with all the love in the world. He was so in awe of you that he failed to notice the look of mild panic that crossed your face.

“Oh god, have I made you late?”

He was brought back to reality by the alarm in your voice.

“No! No no, you’re my last house. I usually get home in time for dinner, Calvin cooks every night, but he’s got a date tonight, so I’m on my own time.”

He surprised himself with how willing he was to alter his schedule. His schedule was very important to him. Punctuality made him feel in control and organized. You, however, made him feel… something new. Something different. Something nice.

“Oh!! Well in that case, d’you wanna come in for a cuppa? I have cocoa too if you’d prefer that! I’m in the middle of baking some cookies as well if you want to help!” You gave him the warmest smile he’s ever seen. All he could do was nod, his face red, and follow you into your home.

He didn’t know what he had expected your house to look like inside, but he did know that everything felt just right. The moment he stepped through your front door, he was greeted by a warmth he had never felt before. It was as if the house had welcomed him in with a hug, beckoning him in further. The next thing he noticed was how nice it smelled, almost like tea, but also with something else mixed in. Like you had patented a candle called “happiness and comfort” and it was perpetually burning. The glow-in-the-dark stars that dotted the ceiling brought a grin to his face as he imagined you excitedly putting them up and seeing them glow for the first time. Everything was bright, but in a calm, easy-on-the-eyes way, and Gardner felt himself relaxing, truly relaxing, for the first time in a very long while.

He followed you into your kitchen, and watched with a full heart as you carefully took off his bag and set it on your kitchen table. With a smile, you excused yourself, saying you needed to grab something from your room, and he smiled at the mess before him. When you said you were in the middle of baking cookies, you weren’t kidding! Every countertop around him was covered in flour or cookie cutters or containers of icing and sprinkles. You hadn’t spared the kitchen from your decorating either, and the tiny christmas tree on your table did not escape his notice. He was just starting to get curious as to where you’d gone when you entered the kitchen once more holding a speaker.

“I hope you like Christmas music!”

He nodded in confirmation, and with a smile, you turned on a bright song that immediately made him feel even more light. Then, you got down to business. You quickly filled him in on what to do, and it was off to the races.

The next hour or so went by in a blur of jolly music, loud singing, laughs, and definitely not eating the dough before you baked it, oh no, absolutely not. He impressed you by being somewhat skilled in the kitchen, and he feigned offense when you mentioned it teasingly. He amazed you in a lot of ways actually, as you ended up talking a lot more than you previously had. He seemed unashamedly open in a way that you hadn’t come to expect from him, and it warmed your heart. The trust he had given you, the willingness to show you his whole, true self was the best Christmas present you had gotten. You found him animatedly talking about the importance of his job, something you adamantly agreed with, his passion for stamps, and his love of being a mail carrier around the holiday season. You listened intently as he described the joy on people’s faces when he hands them packages, the smiles when he delivers Christmas cards from friends they don’t get to see often, the kind greetings from people caught up in the holiday cheer.

“It just makes you feel a bit like Santa,” he smiled, “in its own special way.”

You watched as his eyes twinkled, looking somewhere far away and remembering all of the love he’d witnessed on his route in the past few weeks.

“Well, Santa,” you started with a grin, causing him to meet your eyes with a bright smile, “what do you say we get these last few cookies out of the oven, and then sit down and have some for ourselves?”

You didn’t think his smile could grow any more, but it seemed he was full of surprises that night.

“You know, I think that sounds perfect.”

After getting your cookies out without any burns, you led him to your living room, and he took a seat on your couch. Inhaling again, he could smell the pine from the garland you had hung on the mantle, and he smiled softly. How you managed to make him feel so at home was unreal to him. Your presence just seemed to wrap him up in a warm blanket.

“Still interested in that cuppa?”

He snapped out of his small trance enough to stammer out that he wouldn’t mind some cocoa, and with a comical bow you left him to his own devices.

With wonder in his eyes, he gazed at the room around him. You had obviously been very liberal in your decorating for Christmas, and he couldn’t help the quiet chuckle that escaped him as he took in all the lights strung about. Somehow, you had put up just enough so that the whole room was illuminated in their cheerful glow, but also not so many as to strangle anyone that walked in. He also found himself looking at some of your family photographs. He smiled to himself, thinking about you as a child and the kind of mischief you must have gotten into. The photos made him nostalgic, as if he had experienced this beautiful childhood with you. As if he had played in the streets with friends and come home for a good supper with his family. As if he had ridden his bike along the city streets and played along the riverside. However, he suddenly felt a pang in his chest and realized it couldn’t be nostalgia. Nostalgia implies a longing for things once possessed or experienced. And he had lived none of those happy memories. His smile slowly faded.

His thoughts were interrupted as you waltzed back into the room. He perked back up immediately, almost completely forgetting his melancholy, and if you had noticed the slight sadness in his eyes, you said nothing. Instead, you handed him a warm cup of hot chocolate and a small plate of cookies with a kind grin. He took it eagerly, murmuring a thank you and reciprocating your smile.

You, of course, had noticed him staring at your old photos with a mournful gaze, but elected not to say anything. He had told you about his parents over dinner one night, and it broke your heart. You wanted to tell him right there in that moment that you would gladly be his family, you would absolutely have him and hold him for the rest of your life, but you quickly pushed those feelings down, reminding yourself to keep it together. You situated yourself next to him, and lightly bumped his shoulder with yours, a wordless gesture of comfort. You saw him grin into his mug, and felt victorious.

After each of you had tried the cookies (and made some extremely suggestive sounds that definitely made you both feel emotions you weren’t willing to share), you fell into a comfortable silence. That is, until you saw your dvd collection.

“So, you have a favorite christmas movie?”

He looked up at you, surprised.

“I… don’t think I’ve really seen any.”

“What?”

Your mouth hung open in shock as Gardner looked down at his cocoa. He eventually met your gaze and gave you an almost sorrowful, crooked smile.

“I just… haven’t ever gotten around to it I guess.”

He saw a brief glimmer of sadness, maybe even a tinge of guilt cross your face as you realized why, but it was quickly outshone by the twinkle in your eye as a grin slowly spread across your face.

“Well I guess we’ll have to fix that then.”

You watched Gardner’s eyes dart across the screen. His features were soft, his eyes bright, as he watched the money pile up on George Bailey’s table. You couldn’t help the few tears that sprung to your eyes as the people of Bedford Falls mingled and laughed and sang.

“Are you okay?”

You looked away from the screen to see Gardner’s concerned face as he realized you were crying. You let out a watery laugh and nodded, wiping your eyes.

“I’m fine! This just always gets me.”

A small smile made its way onto his face, and he bumped his shoulder against yours, mirroring your move from earlier. Your heart melted a bit at his gentle kindness, and you bumped him back.

The credits began to roll, and you turned so that you faced him.

“So, I think it’s time for the verdict. What’d you think?”

He smiled softly as you looked at him eagerly.

“I don’t think I’ve seen a better movie.”

He chuckled a bit as your eyes lit up even more.

“Oh!! Gosh I’m so pleased!! And I’m honored that I got to be the one to show you.”

Looking at your proud smile as you focused again on the television, Gardner found himself wanting to kiss you right then and there. The way the light of the movie danced across your face, the way your eyes shone so bright, the way you swayed slightly to the music, lightly humming along, he was in heaven. He was about to say something, god knows what, when your eyes flitted over to the window.

“Oh, Gardner,” you breathed quietly, “look.”

His heart fluttered a bit at his name coupled with the softness of your voice, and his eyes followed yours.

“Oh.”

It was snowing.

Quicker than he could realize what was going on, you pulled him off the couch, bundled him up a bit, and pulled him out your front door. You gasped loudly as soon as your feet hit the ground outside to find it covered in an inch or two of light, soft snow.

“It must have been snowing for ages now,” you cried with a grin, jumping around a bit.

Gardner watched with a bright smile on his face as you gazed up at the sky, watching the flakes fall all around you. You took a few deep breaths, feeling the cold sting your nose, and laughed. Then, with little warning, you grabbed his hands and pulled him out into the yard with you. A small yelp escaped him, but he was quickly giggling alongside you. You roped him into a snowball fight with ease, playfully taunting about how his aim should be fantastic if he’s “really as good at horseshoes as you claim.” He chuckled at that, telling you to “bring it on.” You were sure the neighbors were going to come out to complain, but your antics went unbothered. Eventually though, after Gardner narrowly missed the neighbors’ already-flimsy mailbox, a cease-fire was called.

It fell quiet for a moment, the two of you giggling softly to yourselves and panting a bit. You watched him as he caught his breath, looking up at the falling snow. His eyes seemed to dance between the flakes, not quite knowing where to land. In the few months you had known him, he had never looked as content as you had seen him tonight. His gaze found its way to you eventually, and your cheeks reddened a bit as you realized you’d been staring at him.

However, he didn't seem to notice, and he offered you a kind smile, one you returned very quickly. You took a step toward him and gave him an affectionate shove with your pocketed hands. A quiet giggle escaped him, breaking the calm silence of the night. Your breath caught in your throat at both the sound and your proximity to him. It was possibly the closest you’d been. You could see every detail of his face, his eyelashes, the little flecks of gold in his hazel eyes, barely illuminated by your porch light, his faint freckles across his nose and at the corners of his eyes.

You felt your cheeks heat up as you met his eyes. He gave u another little grin, this one a bit cheeky, and you knew this time he’d caught you. You stepped even closer to him, if that were even possible, and almost timidly took your hands out of your pockets and grabbed his. You watched his eyes widen and his cheeks redden as you laced your fingers together. He looked down at your hands and opened his mouth to speak, but closed it after a second, seemingly unable to say what he wanted to. So you tried.

“Gardner…” you began.

His eyes met yours once more and you faltered. There was so much you wanted to say. You wanted to tell him how beautiful you thought he was, how genuinely gorgeous he looked when his eyes lit up as he talked about his job. You wanted to tell him how much you admired him and his passions. You wanted to tell him how strong he was. He had been hurt so badly, cut so deeply, and yet here he was, loving and giving and laughing and living. You wanted to tell him how much you liked him. Really, truly liked him. Full on fancied him. And still, it was as if you’d forgotten how to speak at all.

“Gardner, the only thing I’m good at is words, and when I look at you, they’re all gone.”

His eyes softened a bit, and he looked down at your hands once more. Then, something new flickered across his face. Determination. He met your eyes.

“Maybe… maybe you don’t need words.”

You were in the middle of debating whether or not you should ask him if he meant what you thought he meant when you realized Gardner’s lips were pressed gently against yours.

It wasn’t like anything you had ever experienced before. It was short, not even lasting two seconds, but it was the purest, most content moment of your life. He pulled away quickly, hands beginning to shake in yours. He didn’t miss the way you chased his lips slightly afterwards, and that helped to somewhat calm his nerves, but he was still terrified at how you were going to react. When his eyes found yours again, he almost breathed a sigh of relief. The smile that spread across your face could outshine the sun. He wanted to say something, anything. He wanted to thank you for his gifts and the cookies and all the kind greetings and the drinks and the dinners and the listening ear. And he opened his mouth to try, but before he even got the second word out, you were kissing him.

The first kiss had been soft. It had been short and sweet. This one was desperate. He made a soft noise of surprise, but quickly relaxed against you. Your lips moved against his hungrily, trying to make up for lost time. He was making these soft, quiet noises that were like music to your ears, and you knew you would never stop trying to draw them out. Your hands untangled themselves from his and moved up to cradle his face. God, his dumb, stupid, lovely face that you had wanted to hold for so long. To hold and to kiss. You found yourself laughing softly in utter disbelief against his lips. He let out a small whine into your mouth that sounded both like a plea for more and like a sigh of relief, as if he felt like he was finally where he was born to be.

Eventually the two of you broke for air, and you chuckled gently at the slight smear of your red lipstick on his mouth. You looked into his beautiful eyes, hands still on his face, and smiled brightly.

“What were you gonna say? Sorry, I completely interrupted you!”

Gardner, still breathless, decided his “thank you” could come later.

“Please… please do that again.”

You laughed loudly, feeling on top of the world, and as much as you desperately wanted to grant his wish, you instead gave him a soft kiss on his lovely little nose.

“My love, I’ll do that a million more times, trust me, but let’s get inside first, yeah? Your nose is an adorable, but probably unhealthy shade of pink.”

He thought about it for a second.

“Just one more?”

You giggled softly at that and took his hands once more.

“Alright, pretty boy, one more.”

After one more lingering, loving kiss, the two of you made your way back inside. After a change of clothes (you into some pjs, Gardner into a soft sweater vest your brother had accidentally left behind once) and a phone call to Calvin to let him know Gardner wouldn’t be home for a while, you both collapsed on the couch. He found himself cuddled up against you, your arms around him, feeling safe and content and truly at home. And when you started describing the Christmas movie marathon he was about to endure, he felt like, for the first time in his life, the feeling would last.

#gardner langway #gardner langway x reader #dear sidewalk #My writing #ohhhh boy #does this mean I need a masterlist now fhsgfshs #here's hoping this is good #love you ro :)

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deaky-girl · 4 years

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I was tagged by @akindofmagic-inmylife ❤️❤️🥰

Rules: Bold everything that applies to you and tag (10) people you’d like to get to know better.

Appearance

I’m over 5’5” // I wear glasses // contacts // I have blonde hair // I prefer loose clothing to tight clothing // I have one or more piercings// I have at least one tattoo // I have blue eyes // I have dyed or highlighted my hair // I have gotten plastic surgery // I have or had braces // I sunburn easily // I have freckles // I paint my (toe)nails // I typically wear makeup // I don’t often smile // I am pleased with how I look // I prefer Nike to Adidas // I wear baseball hats backward

Hobbies and Interests:

I play a sport // I can play an instrument // I am artistic // I know more than one language // I have won a trophy in some sort of competition // I can cook or bake without a recipe // I know how to swim // I enjoy writing // I can do origami // I prefer movies to TV shows // I can execute a perfect somersault // I enjoy singing // I could survive in the wild on my own // I have read a new book series this year // I enjoy spending time with friends // I travel during school or work breaks // I can do a handstand

Relationships:

I am in a relationship // I have been single for over a year // I have a crush // I have a best friend I have known for ten years // My parents are together // I have dated my best friend // I am adopted // My crush has confessed to me // I have a long-distance relationship // I am an only child // I give advice to my friends // I have made an online friend // I met up with someone I have met online

Aesthetic

I have heard the ocean in a conch shell // I have watched the sunrise // I enjoy rainy days // I have slept under the stars // I meditate outside // The sound of chirping calms me // I enjoy the smell of the beach // I know what snow tastes like // I listen to music to fall asleep // I enjoy thunderstorms // I enjoy cloud watching // I have attended a bonfire // I pay close attention to colors // I find mystery in the ocean // I enjoy hiking on nature paths // Autumn is my favorite season

Misc:

I can fall asleep in a moving vehicle // I am the mum friend // I live by a certain quote(s) // I like the smell of Sharpies // I participate in extracurricular activities // I love Mexican food // I can drive a stick-shift // I believe in true love // I make up scenarios to fall asleep // I sing in the shower // I wish I lived in a video game // I have a canopy above my bed // I am multiracial // I am a redhead // I own at least three dogs

Tagging @mrhoemazzello @queen-irl-af @almightygwil @mercury-wife @hgmercury39 @sadprose-auroras @badgersbri @gardnerlangway @ramimedley @redspecialty

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brian-roger-deaky-and-fred · 4 years

Note

I saw your roger recommendations, do you have any for deaky?

I do! I highly recommend "I Can be Handy" by @gardnerlangway , "I Found You At Last" by @fairytales-of-yesterday , "You Deserve Better" by @word-babble , "Art Deco" by @double-deaky, "You're my Best Friend: Chapter 21" by @blushmis (JUST CHAPTER 21 unless you want to cry), "Polaroids" by @another-blog-bites-the-dust , "Universal Mistake" by @bennyblueberry , "Young Hearts" by @backstage-journal, and "I Don't Like You or Your Band" by @freddiesaysalright .

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moondustmemories · 4 years

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i was tagged by @cxpaldi so here we go!

rules: answer 10 questions, tag 10 people and make another 10 questions.

emilie’s questions:

1. So, you’re going to the cinema and you pop into a shop to get snacks & drinks for the film you’re planning to see. What are you buying?

a large popcorn and a water (how boring)

2. If you have air fresheners/diffusers in your living space, what scent is it?

my go to is vanilla. i don’t know why, but it makes me happy

3. What’s your favourite perfume/aftershave?

its new moon intention body spray from magic fairy candles. it smells like peppermint!

4. You can go anywhere for a picnic, where are you going to go?

the old house my grandparents had in nebraska

5. From where you are now look North West, what do you see?

some crystals

6. If you could master any skill, what would it be?

the art of learning languages. i used to be able to speak pretty fluent spanish as a child, but i can’t anymore

7. So, it’s a rainy day and you feel like putting on your favourite tv show. Which show and which episode of the show will you watch?

something from queer eye, all of the episodes are good

8. What’s your favourite pair of socks?

these really thick green ones. i have perpetually cold feet so they keep me warm

9. From Dorothy, Scarecrow, Tin Man or Lion, which one do you most identify with?

dorothy because i’m pretty naive

10. If you can live in any other fictional world for the rest of your life, which world would it be?

i don’t really know. every world has its ups and downs. magic and monsters won’t change that, so i think i’m ok with the world we live in now. although i would change a lot about it.

my questions:

1. what’s your favorite flower? why?

2. who is the best teacher you’ve ever had?

3. if you have a favorite memory, what is it?

4. what’s your favorite thing about yourself?

5. if you could talk to anyone right now, who would it be?

6. what is a skill you’ve always wanted to learn?

7. what is your least favorite color?

8. what is one thing that you are really good at?

9. what movie could you watch over and over without it getting old?

10. what is the best kind of cookie?

i tag: @almightygwil @doing-all-write @blamerogertaylor @gardnerlangway @theborhapboysawakenedmywhatever @rogerscupboard @debdarkpetal @xxcaribbean @hermajestyborhap @brianmay-be

if you don’t want to take part, thats ok! if you do, pretty please make a new text post!🥰

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nellcrain · 4 years

Photo

undrafted meme ◇ [3/10] characters — David Stein "As a side note, can we just agree that Justin Timberlake is a blatant rip off of Nick Carter in every single way and doesn't hold a candle to his vocal prowess?"

#undraftededit #undrafted #david stein #matt bush #gardnerlangway #i love this doofus #i now have this movie do*nloaded on my laptop it's over for y'all #*#undraftedmeme

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gotboredwrote · 5 years

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Amareangelusops // TM!JFM

Pairing: Tim Murphy x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3.2K Style: One-Shot Warnings: Fluff, sexual implications (nothing explicit) Summary: Tim has been on a dig for weeks and comes home with incredible news, but keeps it a secret. Permanent Author’s Note: To clarify, I write because I get bored. Nothing is meant to be professional in any way, nor is meant to offend, cause anxiety, cause anger, cause sadness, or promote disagreement among readers in any sort of (semi)permanent way. A/N: I SWEAR THE NAME OF THIS STORY WILL MAKE SENSE JUST GO WITH IT LMAO. Like everyone else on this site, all inspiration for character traits comes from Rowan’s ( @dr-tim-murphy / @gardnerlangway ) headcanons because she is the supreme Tim stan and no one compares honestly, so thank you, hon! (also if you read this and actually even think its 0.04% good I would cry the happiest tears)

Masterlist

Five weeks. That is how long it has been since your angel Tim was physically in your presence. Sure, there were things scattered around your shared apartment that were his, that reminded you of him, or just made you think of him. But the actual Tim had not been able to hold your hand, hug you, love you for five weeks. The closest you came were the phone calls. At least one a day, more if he could manage it. The time difference did not help the situation, and you missed each other a desperate amount. There would even be days that it got so bad for you that you would go to the museum just to sit in his office and take everything in, the staff understanding the slight separation anxiety since they had seen it with other paleontologists and archeologists. Other days you would lounge around at home, throwing on one of Tim’s sweatshirts or blazers just to get some feeling of him. A smell of cedar and old books. It eased your nerves. You chose one of these sweatshirts and practically raced to the airport the day Tim was due home. You had gotten there an hour early, and when you saw him walk out of his terminal, you were not waiting for him with a sign or flowers like most people in the movies do. Being your dorky, supportive self, there you were with the small tyrannosaurus-rex skull replica Tim had gifted you randomly lifted above your head. Neither you nor Tim cared about the looks people gave you because all that mattered was that your love, your angel, was back with you. The reunion hug was euphoric, feeling his arms around you, and his smell entering your body.

“Timmy… I missed you so much.”

“I missed you more, angel.”

Once Tim had found his suitcase, the two of you made your way to your car, talking back and forth at one another about everything. He caught you up on the details of the dig, you told him about work and everything you did while he was gone. Normal stuff, like you two had not missed a day without each other, despite it feeling like you had not seen each other in years. Tim was waiting for you to ask the one question he was afraid you were going to ask. He managed to go the entire ride home from the airport dodging the question, but the minute you two were upstairs beginning to sort through his suitcase for dirty clothes, toiletries, and other small things, you asked him.

“So! You know I need to know; did you guys find anything special on the dig?”

“Not really.” He was lying, but you were not about to know that any time soon. “A couple of small drinking vessels, or at least what we think are small drinking vessels. And I think Rory found a piece of what could have been a hieroglyphic of some sort.”

“You mean to tell me you don’t consider that stuff amazing?”

“I mean, it is! Don’t get me wrong. It’s just been a while since our museum team found something extraordinary. The rival museum finds something on practically every dig. It can just be… frustrating.”

“Well, I for one think those idiots are faking it. I mean, I only know about the things you’ve taught me, Tim, but it doesn’t seem possible to find half complete dinos on each dig, ya know? I’ll take a small cup over a fake dinosaur any day, especially if my guy found it!”

You leaned to the edge of the bed and pecked him on the cheek. You were sitting in the middle of it while he was placing all his belongings around you, not even bothering to tell you to move even though he needed the space because you were just too adorable to not be in his sight. He flushed a little bit at the contact. He normally flustered easy around you, despite how long you two had been together, but especially now. It had been five weeks since he could be physically connected to you, and it killed him. He wanted every bone, atom, and molecule in his body to absorb the feeling he got from your lips on his skin and drive him mad for you, but as you did this, he had been looking down into his suitcase at his palms. Upturned. He had gotten a lot better about not feeling a certain way about the way they looked, especially if he was with you. You never paid any mind to the scars littering his body, unless that was your intention in certain instances. However, his mind began to flood with the memory of one of the earlier days of the dig, and his body tensed.

“What is it? What’s bothering you? You were happy not three seconds ago, love.”

“It’s nothing. Really. I just remembered something from the dig.”

“Wanna talk about it? Or would you rather just unpack and sleep?”

“Remember I told you this dig was with the usual crew with one exception?”

“Yeah, vaguely. I remember you mentioning something about a grad student but I don’t really remember anything else. Why?”

“He asked about them. Wanted details.”

Tim was referring to Garrett, a grad student from Yale who had been invited to join Tim and his team on the dig. The kid wanted to be an archeologist, but to Tim, it was for all the wrong reasons. He imagined himself becoming the next Indiana Jones. He was partially interested in the history behind the artifacts, but he was more concerned with bulking up muscles because of some digs being more laborious than others, and being able to say that he is a world traveler and knows stuff to attract the attention of girls. While Garrett was a nice kid, he had a few traits Tim did not like, the obvious one being that he was a user. He did not like the way he treated the people who crossed his path, especially women. Did not respect them at all, really. It made Tim’s blood boil because he could never understand how someone could disrespect a woman for any reason. Another trait Tim was not fond of was his forwardness. You were forward, but in a way that Tim found attractive. You know where limits and boundaries are in certain situations, but otherwise you do not beat around the bush. It made you bold, and being the shyer one in the relationship, he felt it was a good balance. Garrett, meanwhile, had no filter. No understanding that there are things that need to be treaded carefully. Tim was told that Garrett would have been informed by one of his professors or at least someone on the dig leadership team that he should not ask Tim about any marks he may see on Tim’s body. Especially his hands. Either no one told him, or he was informed but still questioned anyway. Tim would place his bets on the latter.

[flashback start]

Cairo, Egypt, 11:24am

“Yo, Dr. Tim!”

“Hmm? Yes, Garrett?” Tim had been leaned over a small cutout in the ground lightly dusting away for Rory while he went to grab some water.

“What’s the deal with your hands?”

Tim froze his motions and stared emotionlessly and expressionlessly at Garrett, dumbfounded at the young adult and the way he phrased his inquiry.

“I got hurt. It was years ago, Garrett. Go work on your section.”

“No way, Dr. Murphy. You’re going to tell me what happened now or I will do no work for the rest of the dig and just follow you around and annoy you.”

How old was this kid? He had the maturity of a ten-year-old. Tim sighed, blowing a little bit of dust around his face, causing a light cough to leave his throat. Then he cleared his throat and began to tell the story of Jurassic Park all those years ago, still burning bright in his mind like the way the fence lit up on his hands. Telling the story to anyone else, he would have already been in tears. Except with Garrett, he held them back, shaking slightly in his seat but not enough for someone to notice. He was experiencing some feelings of PTSD, sure, but he was more so enraged at Garrett for being so forward. With a shuddering breath, he raised his head and eyes to look at the boy, who had a look of interest and fear plastered onto his face.

“Does that satisfy you?”

“Y-yes, sir. I’ll-I’ll go keep working.” And Garrett scurried off, hardly speaking to Tim for the remainder of the dig.

[flashback end]

Unlike the Tim in the story, present-day Tim sitting in front of his girlfriend was crying by the time he finished telling the story. Now the crying was a mix of PTSD as well as letting out the frustration he felt at Garrett that day. He had his hands gripped on the footrest of your shared bed, heaving over it with tears rolling down his face. You suppressed the feelings you had for Garrett and lunged forward to your love, gripping him tightly around the torso. You stood up on your knees so Tim had space to shove his head into your neck and cry to his heart’s content, and he did just that. You rubbed his back with one hand, mixing your motions between deep presses and light scratches with your nails, the other hand coming up to rub his neck and lightly play with the ends of his hair. Quietly shushing him, you could feel the tears start to deplete and his breath calm. It took a while this time, how long it usually takes if he has an attack because of the rain. This situation really got to him, and you could not help but feel like there was nothing you could do for him besides give him your undivided attention like always.

“Timmy, you don’t have to worry about him anymore. He was only coming on one dig, and I find it hard to believe that no one else on your dig heard or saw that conversation. Someone will speak to your supervisors about it. I can’t even begin to imagine how getting that question all the time must feel and what it must do to you, but that kid was just plain stupid. How he got into grad school will forever elude me.”

Tim chuckled lightly at this point. You knew you were getting your Tim back. A little bit more coaxing and you would be there.

“And besides, another thing he doesn’t realize is that your hands and what those marks mean don’t define you. Dr. Tim Murphy – paleontologist extraordinaire.” Tim was beaming up at you, eyes now glistening with adoration instead of tears. “I need to know that you understand that, Tim. You need to tell me that you know those scars don’t define you.”

“I know. I know that because of you.”

“Good. You’re my angel, Tim, the love of my life. I want to hit Garrett over the head with a seven-foot-long dinosaur bone, but for now I just need you here.”

Tim leaned up and kissed you sweetly on the lips, his way of saying ‘thank you.’ He was not an overly-big-gesture kind of guy, so small motions like that had become somewhat of a secret, second language for the two of you. Just like what you did afterwards. The hand that had been around his torso still came around to the front while you leaned back to sit on your calves, eyes half shut looking down at his stomach. Your hand came up right to where his heart was and, using your nails, you lightly grazed your hand down his chest to his lower abdomen, then turning around and going back up. Not making eye contact with him, you spoke quietly, not seeing that the adoration in his eyes had turned into something darker, but you heard the light whine move past his lips at your touch.

“My clever boy…”

The neat piles on your bed from his suitcase were long forgotten, and you both cursed yourselves in the morning when you woke up and there was hardly anywhere for you to walk.

While you two were eating breakfast the next morning, Tim casually brought up needing to run to the museum for something.

“My boss told me that at some point today, I need to make my way over to the museum to fill out some paperwork and double-check one of the displays. The stuff we found has been put up, and he just wants me to make sure it all looks okay and fix what doesn’t. Would you care to join me, love?”

“I wouldn’t mind at all. I love going to the museum, you know that.”

The rest of your morning was spent getting ready and making sure your guy’s cats had some food, treats, and toys to play with while you were out. Tim offered to drive, and you two eventually walked into his office where his paperwork would be situated. He told you that it should only take him about ten minutes to fill it out, so if you would not mind waiting for him, he would appreciate it. Normally, if he had paperwork, he did not care if you wandered around looking at the exhibits. When he was done, he would just text you and ask you where you were so he could come find you. Today was different. While it was true that his boss had told him to go fill in his paperwork, the part about him needing to check up on an exhibit was not as truthful. He really did mean that the things that were found on the dig were already up on display, but he had not told you the crowning jewel of the dig. Something that has not happened for the museum in years, and he wanted to show it to you. With his paperwork now complete, he took your hand and the two of you made your way to the Egypt section of the museum where the display was. It was an in-progress display, so some of the things that were in there you had already seen. Those were not the things you paid attention to. You looked for the couple things Tim had mentioned they found, the cups and the piece of hieroglyphic. Easily spotted toward the bottom of the display, you gave Tim a light nudge in the arm showing him just how proud you were of him and his team. Then your eye caught something else. There was another thing in the display that you did not remember seeing before. A fully intact skull with a few bones lying next to it. You looked at it with confusion, not recognizing the shape of the skull as a dinosaur Tim had ever talked about. You turned to him with your confused expression and he just looked back at you wide-eyed.

“What?”

“That skull, Tim. That wasn’t there before, was it?”

“Which one?”

You pointed to the skull and he took a look at it and then proceeded to the plaques in front of the display.

“Read… ah, this. I think this is where it is. Read it out loud, I’m going to continue looking and checking the display, love.”

You began to read.

“The skull of an Amareangelusops, alongside some bones considered to be part of the body. This omnivorous creature, based upon location found and bone structure, is considered to be a shyer species, one that would have only been about ten feet long and eight feet tall.” You continued to read the facts that the museum had established after DNA testing. Then you saw it. “This newly found species of dinosaur was discovered by Dr. Timothy Murphy—oh my god!”

Tim was now turned to face you, beaming wildly at you and trying his hardest not to laugh at your reaction. Your outburst had quieted down your section of the museum.

“Tim, did you not tell me about this? Did you find this on the dig you were just on?”

“Yeah, I wanted to surprise you. I thought you would be proud of me.”

“Proud doesn’t even begin to describe how I’m feeling, Timmy! I can’t believe it! You discovered a freaking dinosaur! A new dinosaur! Wow, I might faint.”

“It’s not that big of a deal, Y/N.”

“Except it is, Tim! You told me yourself when we first started dating; it is every paleontologist’s dream to have that moment where you find something and can name it yourself and feel proud that you contributed to world history! And you did that!” Then it dawned on you. “Wait… does that mean you picked the name? Amareangelusops?”

Tim smiled sweetly at you and nodded his head, it was clear to him you did not understand the name.

“You don’t get what it means, do you?”

“Not in the slightest, Tim.” You started laughing, making Tim laugh.

“Well, it’s actually pretty simple. But before I explain it, let me give you the context. You and I had just gotten off the phone, you were about to go to bed and I was already working, having no luck. Broke a brush right before calling you, too. Then I heard your voice, sleepy and ethereal. It made me so happy. You wished me luck before hanging up, and not an hour later, while I was still hearing your voice and seeing your face in my head, I found it. So, I chose a name that reflected what I was thinking about when I discovered it. The name can be broken down into three parts; amare, angelus, and ops. Ops is basically paleontologist talk for face, and I had your face in mind when I found it, remember? The other two parts are Latin words. Amare means love, and angelus means angel. You always call me your angel, and we call each other love all the time.”

“You… you’re saying you named a dinosaur after… me?”

“Yep.”

“I… don’t know what to say, Tim.”

“You don’t have to say anything. This is my gift to you for putting up with all my antics over the years. I love you.”

Your eyes were welling up with tears, and you felt Tim snake his arms around your waist and pull you tightly into him and kiss you on the top of your head.

“Thank you, Tim. I love you so much. You’re such an incredible scientist, and that Garrett kid is stupid and will never achieve something like this.” All of your words spilled out through choked-back sobs. You were so moved, and you could not help but wonder if his bosses asked him about the name.

“Did they ask you why you named it that?”

“Yeah…” He looked like he was getting embarrassed.

“And?”

“They called me a dork.”

You two laughed uncontrollably because while neither of you disagreed with Tim’s bosses, you were both so happy in the moment that nothing else mattered. You were happy to have your angelic dork right by your side as you made your way home.

#tim murphy #tim murphy x reader #tim murphy hammond #joe mazzello #joseph mazzello #joe mazello x reader #joseph mazzello x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #jurassic park #museum #latin #fluff

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glitterslag · 4 years

Note

Best roger fluff youve read?

ok there are literally so many amazing ones but atm i have 2 rog fic recs, both of which i think are kinda old but for some stupid reason i’ve only found them recently. If i remember they both have fluff, angst and smut so sorry if u were just looking for plain fluff but they are:

“Long Distance” by @dreamer821 , and “Scuff Up The Sidewalk” by @gardnerlangway . They are just................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

imma reblog them too

#ask #fic rec

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fairytales-of-yesterday · 5 years

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My Lonely Days Are Through

A/N: okay so I finally wrote a fic! this is my first fic in like,, 4 years or so? so be gentle with me I guess lmao

I am pretty content with this though! I'm soft as hell so,,, here we go :)

@gardnerlangway this one's for you, lovely

(no editing we die like men)

A yawn escapes your lips as you stretch out and then curl back up. Tim's heart flutters as he watches you rub your nose, your brows furrowed. You're currently curled up on his couch, fast asleep. It's a typical Friday night for the two of you, one spent together. After meeting Tim when you started working in the museum a few months back, the two of you had built up a routine around each other. You would eat lunch together on your break, stay after hours working and keeping each other company, you would even go grocery shopping together on weekends. Today was no exception to your intertwined schedules. Upon leaving the museum for the day, you had grabbed a late dinner and ended up back at his apartment. You had started the night working, but the stress of the week and your recent lack of sleep had taken its toll, and you dozed off relatively quickly after 2am hit.

The soft light of the television dances colors across your face as Tim looks on in complete adoration. Your eyelashes cast tiny shadows on your cheeks as your chest rises and falls steadily. You had borrowed a shirt and some shorts from him, you both agreeing it would just make sense if you spent the night, and his eyes couldn't help but wander to where the tshirt had ridden up to expose a bit of your stomach. His breath catches in his throat as he finds himself thinking about what it would feel like to hold you there. What it would feel like to just have you close. To run his hands along your soft skin and-

"Okay wow, Tim." He quickly looks back at the bright screen of his laptop in order to rid his mind of these compromising thoughts. But, as his eyes make their way back to you, he runs a hand through his hair and breaths a quiet laugh. "I really do have it bad, don't I?"

He quickly covers his mouth though as he sees you slightly stir, not wanting to wake you. He had seen the effect the last week had had on you, his heart slowly falling more and more as each day you seemed to become a little more quiet, a little less peppy, and a little less yourself. The project you had been working on was one you were very passionate about, but it had become quite the endeavor. Though you had been thrilled to take it on, the universe had not been on your side, with people forgetting to follow through with their promises, paperwork getting mixed up, and even artifacts getting misplaced for a bit due to the lack of a proper cataloging system when the museum first opened. It nearly broke Tim's heart to see you become so unhappy with something that had made you so ecstatic before. He had done all in his power to keep you smiling, with funny stories, bad jokes, and any help he could offer, but you couldn't help still being discouraged. He had even mustered up the courage to give you a little kiss on the forehead as he left your office at one point, and the smile it brought, along with the blush that rose to your cheeks, was definitely worth the ten minutes he spent panicking over whether or not he should even attempt it. Just the memory of your flustered face makes him grin.

A small whine draws him from his thoughts. He looks up to find you rubbing your eyes and slowly pushing yourself to a sitting position. He tries his best to maintain his composure as you sleepily pull down your shirt and run your hand through your hair.

"Good morning," he chuckles quietly. You look at him in sleepy confusion before realizing what happened.

"Oh nooo," you groan, putting your face in your hands. He laughs a little louder this time, scooting over on the couch to bump your shoulder with his. You smile into your palms, your face flushing pink at the contact. He bumps you again, drawing your face away from your hands. Peeking through your fingers, you can see the soft but wide smile on his face.

"Have a nice nap?"

It's teasing, but you can see something resembling concern in his gaze. You just nod in response, running a hand through your hair. "I don't think I've ever seen you fall asleep this fast," he cautiously approaches the subject, "have you slept this week?"

The laugh that escapes you in response only makes his concern grow. He asks again, softer this time, and you look up at him with tired eyes.

"I uh... I think I got ten hours this whole week."

"Ten?"

You wince slightly at his tone, cursing yourself for not adding a few hours to make him feel a bit better.

"But that's like... two hours a night! You've gotten ten hours of sleep this whole week?" You can't tell if it's shock or sadness in his eyes. Maybe both.

"Eleven if you count the nap I just took?" You joke, trying to calm him a little. "Tim, I'm okay I promise, I've been through a lot worse, honest."

"Worse?!"

Okay, so that didn't help. But before you can say anything else to try and defend yourself, he wraps you up in a tight hug. You tense up for a second, taken by surprise, but quickly you melt into him. You don't even realize you've started crying until you hear Tim trying to comfort you.

"I'm- I'm sorry," you hiccup into his shoulder, tears beginning to stain his shirt.

He rubs your back slowly, quietly shushing you, and telling you that it's absolutely okay, and you have nothing to apologize for. You shiver at his touch, burying your face in his neck, breathing him in. You stay like that for a few minutes, you trying to stop your ragged breaths and the tears spilling from your eyes, him rubbing your back, occasionally switching to run his hands through your hair, whispering words of comfort. However, eventually you pull away with a pitiful laugh.

"Sorry about your shirt," you whisper, trying to simultaneously brush your tears off of his shoulder and wipe your eyes.

"Hey, it's completely okay. I know this week has been rough. You have every right to be upset. But, it's over now, okay? Next week'll be better, yeah? I'll make sure it is."

He's relieved to see a watery smile grace your lips. No, that's an understatement. He's almost on the verge of crying himself, never having seen you in this state before. He brings his hands up to cradle your face, wiping the still falling tears with the pads of his thumbs, somehow not noticing the deep shade of red you're turning. With his hands still around your face, he tilts your head so you're looking up at him.

"Now, what do you say I pop some popcorn and you turn on something you like?"

A breathy laugh escapes you and you nod, not really trusting your voice with him this close to you. You can see the masked worry in his features as he smiles, and you mentally kick yourself for stressing him out. But, that thought leaves you as he stands up, giving you a chaste but firm kiss on your forehead. You're eternally grateful that he goes to the kitchen immediately after bc you can't stop the blush that rises to your cheeks.

"Dear god, that boy's gonna kill me," you whisper, wrapping yourself up in one of the blankets that had been resting on the back of the couch.

You start to flip through the channels, eventually landing on a documentary, and you hear a chuckle behind you. You turn to find Tim with a bowl of popcorn in his hand, looking at you in what you could only describe as fond adoration. You flush again, and he laughs fully now, plopping down beside you. You lift the blanket, inviting him in, and he gladly accepts, scooting over close enough to bump knees with you.

You fall into a comfortable silence, both of you enraptured by the bright images on the tv. Every now and then your hands brush when trying to reach for popcorn, and you mentally curse yourself for getting so worked up over cliches, not knowing that Tim was doing the exact same thing.

You're the first to speak.

"Thank you."

It's a quiet whisper, accompanied with a shoulder bump. He bumps you back and gives you a lopsided grin.

"It's the least I could do."

“What?”

“Y/N, you've spent the last few months I've known you being so amazingly kind to me. You bring me food, you save me seats in meetings, you laugh at my jokes, you-”

You cut him off very seriously, “Okay they're good jokes, Tim.”

At that he laughs, breathlessly.

“Not good enough for you to cry in the middle of a meeting! I was trying to be quiet and you almost spit your water everywhere!”

Now you're both laughing, remembering that stupid planet joke and how you just about died of embarrassment, and before you can think or stop yourself, you say it.

“God, I love you.”

It's like all the oxygen leaves the room. Both of you are immediately gasping for breath, as if the air had been knocked out of your lungs. Before you can sputter out an apology, anything to make things go back to how they were before you blurted out what had been your most well-kept secret, Tim manages to get out,

“You… you what?”

His eyes are wide, and you're sure yours are as well. You're in love with him. You're in love with him. You had never even said it to yourself before. It had always just been little sighs, thoughts of him basically all the time, or little whispers to yourself about how bad you've got it. Never an outright, ‘I'm in love with Tim Murphy.’ No, the first time you said it just had to be right to his face.

You start to say ‘sorry, no, wait,” to say, ‘hold on I shouldn't have done that,’ but then you stop. And you look at him. Tim. Tim, with his sweet words and his brilliant mind. Tim, with his adorable laugh and beautiful smile that he had come to trust you with. Tim, with his tight hugs that make you feel safer than almost anywhere else. Tim, with his strong arms and gorgeous face and Jesus Christ his HANDS are just about the hottest things in the world like oh my god the things he could- you've gotten off track. The point is, you don't want to apologize. You don't want to take it back. You love him.

So you say it again.

“I love you.”

And then it's quiet. He looks honestly shell-shocked. You can almost see his gears turning behind his eyes, trying to figure out what to say after that. Immediately, your brain jumps to the worst possible scenario, and you begin to backtrack.

“I'm sorry. Oh my gosh, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, I just- you're so lovely, but you can completely ignore any of this just hap-”

And then he's kissing you. It's a short kiss, just a sweet, small one, but you're out of breath when he pulls away. You open your eyes to see him in a similar state, his face completely flushed. But he quickly finds his voice.

“I can't tell you how long I've wanted to do that.”

All you can do is laugh, still trying to remember how to breathe.

“The feeling is mutual.”

He blushes and gives a bashful smile, then hesitates again, opening his mouth, then closing it, once more unable to speak. However, he manages to regain his composure enough to ask,

“Can… can I kiss you again?”

Not even bothering you answer, you close the gap between you. You feel Tim smile against your lips, and you can't help but do the same. You don't know how it happens, but somehow you end up on his lap, straddling him. Your hands are on his chest as your lips move in sync, slowly, but desperately. Passionately. His hands make their way into your hair, and you whimper quietly into his mouth as he gives it a slight tug. Your face heats up immediately, but you just keep going, pretending it didn't happen and hoping he missed it. He definitely heard it though, and you feel him smirk against you.

Shit, that's hot … everything he does is hot.

You roll your hips experimentally to retaliate, still on top of him, and the moan that leaves his lips is one of the most beautiful sounds you ever heard. It goes straight to your core, and you let out a groan yourself. You start to roll your hips once more, desperate to draw that sound from him again, but his hands come up to your waist and stop you. You can see he’s panting, and his hair is all disheveled.

“Okay, as much as I want to do that, and I really wanna do that,” he pauses as you giggle, “you just told me that you got 10 hours of sleep this week. I promise we can continue another time, but right now, you need to sleep.”

You pout, knowing he's got a point.

“Okay, but only since you promised.”

He helps you off his lap, letting you use him as support, and gently guides you to his bedroom. He makes a big, dorky show of tucking you in, making sure you're comfortable, offering to make you a glass of water. Finally, he gives you a soft smile, says a quiet goodnight, and gives you a quick kiss on the forehead. Your face immediately flushes, and you whisper a soft goodnight back as he turns to leave.

"Wait, where are you going?"

He turns around, confused.

"The couch?"

You give him a grin, suddenly a bit shy, and wordlessly lift up the covers next to you. He stares at you for a moment, still sporting that confused expression, and then suddenly it's like a lightbulb goes off in his head.

"Oh. OH! You want..?"

You giggle sleepily at how flustered he is. Just a few minutes ago you were about to rip each other's clothes off, and now he's getting stuttery about sleeping in the same bed as you.

"I hope you like to cuddle."

At that, he smiles sheepishly, and nods without a word. You watch as he changes into pjs, his boxers and an old band tshirt, and it takes all your willpower to not start anything again. After turning the lights off, he slides into bed next to you. There's a moment of hesitation, a moment where it seems like he can't quite decide what he wants to do, but then you feel him move closer to you, and suddenly, he's holding you. He nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck and you can feel his smile against your skin. He presses a tender kiss to your shoulder, and you turn to press one into his hair. You both sigh, more comfortable and safe than you've ever felt in your life.

"Goodnight, Tim."

"Goodnight."

A beat.

"I love you."

You smile.

"I love you too."

#ohhhh boy here we are #this took way longer than it should have #tim murphy #i love that dumb dino boy im so soft #rowan im sorry this took so long i love you #does anyone read the tags #if anyone ever wants to talk to me about tim pls do im emo #my writing #joe mazzello #shut up née #here's hoping no one's used that picture for a fic before lmao

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