#and andrew would be so chill

[owlarchimedes]

I don't get why some people think Andrew wouldn't get along with Jeremy? Look at how he treats kind people, kind people who've gone through their own hardships but in the end chose to "be a bad person trying very hard to be a good person" (Renee, Wymack) or just people who are always kind and try to help (Bee, and Abby to an extent).

The point is Andrew would take one look at captain sunshine and just know he'd get along with him (even if he doesn't show it in a traditional way)

[i-think-2-loud]

service top neil and power bottom andrew is basically canon…but may i please offer service top jeremy and power bottom jean??

[stabbyfoxandrew]

Happy WIPW! Could I request either Mer Roadtrip or Arson!Neil, whichever seems more fun? I hadn't expected the Mer Roadtrip to become such a favorite, but I'm really enjoying the level of Constant Danger! (Although at this point, they're kind of *all* my favorite...)

WIP Wednesday (3/26) | Arsonist Neil / Firefighter Andrew AU (Part 293)

Some time later Andrew is roused by Abram’s gentle, “Hey.”

It startles him beyond belief. Both the sound of his voice and the fact that he just fell asleep two feet from another human being. Andrew blinks his eyes open hard and is met with a smile. "Should I drive you home now?"

"I'm not tired." Andrew lies.

"You sure? Thought you were almost asleep just now."

"Shut up," Andrew says, kissing Abram once before he moves to stand up. He stretches until his back pops and offers Abram his hand, pulling him to his feet and close enough to kiss him again. And again. Abram laughs into Andrew's mouth and it's a gorgeous sound. They gather their things up and Abram carries the cooler back to the car for him.

"Drive safe, huh?" He says, lightly trailing his knuckles across Andrew's cheek after he sets it in the floorboard.

"Mm, you too."

"Text me when you get home?"

"I will." Andrew kisses him one more time because he just can't keep his mouth to himself around this man. When he pulls away again, he gently pets Abram's cheek over the burn scars. Then without thinking, places a kiss there too. "See you later."

"See you later," Abram repeats, voice soft. Once the gravity-defying process of separating from each other's sides is over, they each get into their cars and Andrew follows Abram back to town until he reaches the turn off for his building. He's sleepy enough that he doesn't care to bring everything in with him. He merely parks his car and goes upstairs, ready to climb into his bed. But first...

Andrew Home.

Andrew waits for Abram to respond with a 'Sleep well' before changing and climbing under his blankets. He drops his head into the pillow and conks out almost immediately. The next few hours he's completely dead to the world. He wakes up and the sky has gone dark. When he checks the time he finds it's almost ten o'clock. He has a couple of missed messages. Merry Christmases from his crew, even though he saw them this morning.

A couple random messages from Kevin, who seems to think he's been forgotten about. Andrew ignores them and opens another chat.

Andrew Tell Kevin to calm down, I'm not dead. I just woke up. 🍒Jeremy Mkay. He says 'thank god hey why’s he texting you and not me’ lol Andrew Tell him I lost my phone. By the way, Abram said thanks for the card.

Before Andrew can put his phone down, it's ringing. He pretends not to be wildly amused as he answers. "Hello, Kevin."

"Where have you been?" Kevin’s voice comes through clear as water and he sounds like a nagging mother. 

"Around. Why?"

"Because you were ignoring me all day. And,” Kevin makes a frustrated sort of squawk, “You told Jeremy your boyfriend's name when you said he didn’t have one."

Jeremy, you traitorous bastard. "I don't know what you mean."

"Abram."

"Who is that?"

"Andrew." There's some commotion in the background that Andrew can’t quite make out, but Kevin finally sighs. "Did you have a good day?"

“I did.” Andrew answers. And because he frankly feels the need to gossip, he tosses Kevin a bone and tells him about his and 10’s— Abram’s— date. That it was nothing particularly special, just a faux picnic. A couple sandwiches, a few dozen kisses.

“In a barn?” Kevin sounds appalled. “Wait. The barn? The one you showed me that one time. The one that’s about five seconds from falling over? Are you insane?”

“Perhaps. But Abram’s standards are not as high as yours,” Andrew says, remembering his freshman year of college. He’d brought Kevin to the barn where they shared a few weed brownies. Kevin, having never had such before, thought he was going to die when they kicked in. 

“My standards are ‘buildings meant for human beings to live in’.”

“Yeah, whatever. Goodnight, Kevin. Merry Christmas. Stop reading Jeremy’s messages or I’ll steal your TV.”

“What? How are those things related?”

“They aren’t. You just have a nice TV.” With that, Andrew hangs up the phone and goes out to the living room to fire up his DVD player. Kevin gets his O’Hara clip after one in the morning, but replies to it immediately.

Kevin At last, there she is. Andrew Waiting up? Kevin No. There are half a dozen strangers in my apartment being loud. Jeremy and Jean’s teammates from USC. I pretended I was tired to get away. Andrew Put on the headphones I got you. Kevin I’ll try it. Goodnight, Andrew.

[buck1eys]

guys i am begging you to consider the parallels

[dreamings-free]

.

[randum-famdoms]

As someone with a much larger vocabulary than the average American (due to various factors, but personally I attribute this to the terrible American education system more than anything else), I’ve genuinely considered starting to screen record while I’m writing essays for college as proof that I’m not using ai to cheat, unless you count spell check as ai. Which I don’t, and any sane person wouldn’t either.

AI checkers are faulty at best and genuinely broken beyond comprehension at worst. I lean towards the worst side of the scale. There have been countless cases of these things just flat out not working, whether that’s through false positives or not catching actual ai use.

I think the worst or maybe just weirdest case I’ve seen was a situation where one of my friend’s classmates got flagged for ai use because they included a block quote that the checker decided was suspicious. A fucking quote. Ya know, the one thing in an essay that you don’t write yourself.

Insanity.

I hadn’t heard about this trend of ai checkers forcing people to dumb down their words leading to actual published works being dumbed down before. I mean, I knew about the results, but I’d assumed that it was caused by the general trend of the American populous getting “dumber”. By which I mean that each year there are statically more people graduating with lower reading levels/worse understanding of how things like science and math work. It’s not their fault, the American education system is deeply flawed and underfunded more and more every year and far too many parents let iPads raise children instead of actually parenting. And the iPad baby bit is making things even worse year by year as more and more content for kids (and adults) is ai generated. It’s much more complicated than that, but I’m not about to go into minutia over this in a tumblr post.

The general trend toward content (including published books) being dumbed down is caused by a lot of factors. Pressure from publishers and higher ups, ai, the general lower standards of pre-college education (and college too, but less so for now), being raised by the internet, the fact that the internet is so consumed by ai and it worsens every day, the list goes on.

Ai isn’t the only source for these problems, but the fact remains that it is simultaneously the method being used to enforce the trend and most of the other sources can trace back their roots to AI in some way or another.

And frankly we can’t do Jack shit about it. At least, we can’t do anything to stop ai. It’s far too late for that.

What we can do is try for now to make sure our own writing isn’t mislabeled as AI, not by dumbing it down but rather by providing proof that you were the one to write it. We can make sure that when we have kids they don’t get access to ai and that they are raised by a human, not by a computer. We can try to help schools get more funding. We can rate books that haven’t been dumbed down higher than ones than have, and maybe even message publishers to tell them that they are idiots if they think their readers want something written so boringly.

We can’t stop generative ai, but we can learn how to coexist with it.

[foxholecourt22]

Neil and Andrew are like geese. Loud and mean and violent but with undying adoration for their mate. I once knew this goose who very much did not like me but one day his goose wife decided I was chill and that she wanted to hang out with me. Goose husband, of course, did not want to be away from his goose wife because he followed her everywhere, and since his wife followed me everywhere that meant he had to deal with me but instead of attacking me like he used to he would just kinda goose mutter-hiss at me from a couple feet away because although he didn’t fuck with me his wife did so he agreed to let me metaphorically come clubbing with them for Halloween

Along with this, geese also have a lack of regard for the government and a lust for crime

[science-hoes]

“No more seats, guess I have to sit in your lap.” with andrew cody PUHLEASE QUEEN

Of course my love!!!

—

The only real light in Smurf’s backyard was the glow from the pool lights. Everything had a rippling cyan illumination, masking flushed faces from alcohol and reddened eyes from marijuana.

You’d had a few shots of vodka before you dove into the cold water, washing away your sweat and drinks that had accidentally spilled onto you from drunken partygoers. You stayed under for a minute, opened your eyes, and enjoyed the peaceful quiet. The music and loud voices were only a muffle while you sat at the floor of the deep end, watching the legs of others kick above you to stay afloat. You could stay there for a long time, at least that’s what the alcohol told you.

When your oxygen ran short, you fluttered your legs back to the surface. When you surfaced at the edge of the pool, you were met with piercing hazel eyes. Pope Cody knelt next to the water, his face marble cold in its natural expression of unhappiness.

You raised an eyebrow at him, unsure of why he was waiting for you at the surface. “Something wrong?” You questioned.

His face didn’t change, but his voice gave away the worry that consumed him. “You were under for a long time.”

You wiped the chlorinated water out of your eyes, furrowing your brow. “I was only under for like 30 seconds, Pope. Take a chill pill.” You muttered before swimming away.

Even though the water sloshed around your ears, you heard his response. “It was almost two whole minutes.”

When you exited the pool at the ladder, you snatched a dry towel from the bar. You wrung out your hair first before throwing the towel around your shoulders, not bothering to clear your body of the droplets that raced down your skin.

Deran had coaxed you into one more shot, tequila this time, which you gratefully downed to burn the thought of Pope’s frustration toward you.

You weren’t drunk. You weren’t drunk. You wernt druk. You wert drung.

Your brain was nearly in another dimension when you approached Pope as he sat with impeccable posture in a chair near the pool, eyes trained on the water like he was a damn lifeguard.

He looked so pretty. The way the pool light brought out his freckles, shaded his auburn curls so nicely, and highlighted the veins in his forearms. Without a second thought, you collapsed into his lap.

“No more seats, guess I have to sit in your lap.” You hummed, leaning a head quickly onto his shoulder.

Pope’s entire body tensed, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the arms of the chair. If you were sober, you would have expected him to throw you off him, either onto the concrete or into the pool, without a regard for your wellbeing. If you were sober, you would have expected him to grunt in distaste at the feeling of your wet body on his. If you were sober, you would have expected him to treat you like a pathetic junkyard dog begging for scraps.

But you weren’t sober. And you didn’t give him a chance to react to your presence before your nose nestled into the crook of his neck. “You’re so warm.” You noted as the heat of his freckled skin radiated against yours.

If you were sober, you would’ve noticed just how quickly his burly arms wrapped around your body. If you were sober, you would’ve noticed the shaky sigh of contentment when you began to press drunken kisses against his jaw. If you were sober, you would’ve heard him say, “I got you,” when you shivered in his embrace at the cold evening air. If you were sober…you would’ve felt his painfully hard cock prodding at your ass every time you wiggled unconsciously against it.

You woke up in his bed, under the covers, clothed in a tshirt and boxers that didn’t belong to you. When you turned your head, Pope was lying on top of the covers, hands folded, staring at the ceiling fan. You turned to face him, smiling slightly, and your movement brought his attention to you.

“Did you sleep okay?” He asked.

You smiled and nodded. “Yeah.” You whispered. “Did you put me in these clothes?”

Pope just nodded once. “I didn’t look. Kept my eyes closed. I promise.” His voice was so steady, and you trusted him.

Your hand reached out to one of his folded hands, squeezing it gently. “That’s too bad.” You hummed. “You’re the only person I’d want to see me naked.”

Fortunately, everyone else in the house was gone for work or errands. Because the sounds that Pope Cody drew out of you that morning were animalistic.

[falafels]

pt.58!! <pt.57 pt.59>

would like to iterate that andrew CANNOT change a tyre he’s just chilling under the car so people leave him alone and maybe it crushes him. sometimes one of the cats follows and just watches him do this

tags for the homies ❤️ @andrewsleftarmband @blurryhour @you-know-i-get-itt @notexactlythatgirl @longspacerat @tessasilverswan @minyard-05 @carbon-dated-gal @bisexualchaosdemon @stormiiflies @watercoloureyes01 @vampire-overlord @iron-sides @azure-wing @buffalo-fox @ohgodnotagainplease @pink-hydrangea @jaywalkerss @ohmynoggin-blog @cosmic-marauder @min-getoutofmy-yard @plazybones @disastersappho @leestars13 @the-witch-forever-lives @minyardsss @post-historical-posts @andabuttonnose @hidinginmyhands @aftg4l @allfor-thegames @yaoishida @inafieldofstarflowers @snowcoming @mooniism @jeanmoreausautismstickers @prometheusthedragon @graveyardviolence @bustedleftshoe @beatrix33 @aftg-bs @yes-i-exist-shutup @milktemproom @all-for-exy @moon-over-ruined-castle @meta-breakers @oneandonlystarshine @dragonslayer26806 @malepresentingleg @lesbiansforkevinday

[totalswag]

Heyy!! Hope you’ve been great! I have a request…….💌💌

How about Drew and popstar!reader do like a super hot Calvin Klein ad together, and launch a collab with the line. xx

calvin klien collab ⎯ DREW STARKEY!

authors note i've been doing great thank you for asking lovie!! ugh I enjoyed writing this and coming up with some good ideas heheh. i hope we get to see drew on an ad one day (he would look so good). since i usually write about singer!reader x drew being in a relationship, i wanted to write something that doesn't involve them together, more so meeting for the first time.

taglist ✎ ̼ if you would like to be notified every time i post you will type in your username then be all set to go.

masterlist

summary in which you and drew starkey are collaborating in a hot calvin klien photoshoot for the first time.

warning(s) high tension, flirting, bodies touching, y/n and drew being the hottest people on the planet.

Being asked to be involved in a Calvin Klein photoshoot was a complete dream come true. You've always wanted to be one of those women, and now you are able to say you are. When you got the news from your manager you were filled with loads of emotions.

What no one was expecting⎯Drew Starkey and Y/N Y/N featured on Calvin Klein together. After the announcement, everyone was going wild over the news. No one would've thought to two most upcoming talented people in the industry in a photoshoot together.

The room is alive with the low buzz of cameras clicking, stylists altering clothes, and the subtle smell of expensive cologne and body oil hanging in the air. The buzzing of music playing in the background set the mood for the shoot.

Meeting Drew for the first time felt unreal. He was so generous, kind, and understanding of boundaries. He told you, "anytime you feel uncomfortable please let me know."

That made you trust him during the entire process.

"Thank you for coming, my name is Andrew, and I will be your photographer for the shoot," he says while shaking your hands; "for this shoot, we want it to be super hot as the company quoted." 

You and Drew are standing in front of a full-length mirror, bodies inches apart, wearing nothing but the sleek, minimalist Calvin Klein underwear that has already been dubbed the year's best campaign⎯and it hasn't been launched yet.

"Lean in a little more," the Andrew says.

Drew tilts his head, grinning slightly as he approaches. His fingers ghost over your waist, not quite touching but close enough to feel the warmth of his skin through the dense tension in the room. Your pulse quickens. His gaze drifts down to your lips for just a second too long. The camera flashes, recording the moment in real time.

When you put your palm on Drew's bare chest for the following shot, you'll notice how hard he swallows. His skin is warm, and his muscles feel taut when you touch them. You're supposed to be playing a role⎯selling desire, closeness, and the effortless Calvin Klein fantasy⎯but neither of you knows where the performance ends and reality begins.

As you two pull away the tension between you two is still lingering in the air. Drew's usual playful smirk soften into something unreadable. This is all supposed to be professional.

The second part of the shoot arrives. Drew is lying on his back in jeans, with you on top of him in jeans and a jean jacket. Drew's right leg was sitting up, while his left leg laid down. You rested your head on his bare chest, peering into the camera.

Andrew clicks many times in a matter of seconds, prompting you both to change positions. Drew was directed to place his left hand on your waist beneath the jean jacket, and you were asked to lift your upper body while maintaining eye contact.

His piercing blue eyes on you and yours on him. Chills going down your spine. Everything in your body was on fire.

Once the third portion of the photoshoot came to an end, Drew and you were sent back to your dressing rooms to get back into your normal clothing then come out to look over the pictures.

Pictures came out perfect.

"That one has to be my favorite" you say, referring to the picture of Drew sitting behind you, left hand on your waist, head on your shoulder. You sit between his legs, lean back against his chest, and wrap your arms tenderly around his head. You both look sexy and badass. 

Drew and you walked out together with your managers trailing behind you two keeping good distance. You laughed at something he said about filming for Queer when he nearly fell.

"It was really nice getting the chance to work with you, Y/N," Drew admits. "Maybe we should hang out sometime?" Could I get your phone number?

"You're a great person to work with Drew and I would like that, I'm free this Friday if you aren't busy?" You suggest, smiling sweetly.

He chuckles before gazing at his feet, reaching into his pocket for his phone, and handing it to you.

"Perfect, see you soon, Y/N" Drew says, pulling you in for a hug.

"See ya!"

It's been four days since the shoot and your fans have been eager. Calvin Klien teased viewers with behind-the-scenes footage prior to the release of the entire campaign.

One of the clips shows Drew casually tucking a stray strand of your hair behind your ear in between shoots. Another angle captures the way he murmurs something to you right before a shoot, causing you to giggle softly—an intimate, unscripted moment that only heightens the tension.

Fans on all sorts of social media apps were going crazy. The edits of the clips were being posted. Your phone was blowing up from texts and calls from your closest circle over the campaign ad.

fan88: They didn't have to go this hard for a Calvin Klein ad, but here we are 😳

fan15: i can take them both all at once btw

fan22: so you're telling me this their first time meeting???

fan11: I CAN’T DO THIS. WHY DO THEY LOOK LIKE THEY’RE ABOUT TO DEVOUR EACH OTHER!!! 😫

drew starkey: i think we just broke the internet

drew starkey: i'm about to pick you up too

⎯⎯ my taglist! 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

✰ if you would like to be added to my taglist and be notified whenever i post please let me know in the comments or in my ask box. if there's a line across your name that means i couldn't find your account

@rosezza @chenslucy @whorelaud @rafeyslamb @mymultiveres @runningfrom2am @drewsephrry @drewizz @diqldrunks @starkeyvhs @percysley @francislovergirl @sukuna-wafiu @skyslowalking @kneelarmhstrung @inthelibrarybtw @lilumz-blog @lovingsturniolo @xoxosblogsblog @darkacademictrash @claudiamoscatoo @starkeysturniolo @ratgirlcunt @eddxemxnson @rafespreciosa @yanna2coolz @raewontgoaway @definitelynotdomanique @isabellaxlilah @inlovewrafe @minyoon23 @stevesxwhore @skywalker0809 @yesshewrites1 @acidfeens @stxrzyn @sfotiegiuls @babypoguelife @dolletebun @stoned-writer @drewstxrky @kiiyomei @bxmaaa @pwertiies @6r4cie @ifwfratboychris @sjmalfoy19 @drewrry @outerbanksloverp4l @thesunflowersociety @drewwhor @my-name-is-baby @sparklyananas

[odysseus-day]

ranking aftg characters on whether or not i'd trust them to hold my drink

dan: i think she'd be really enthusiastic about it, but she'd get a little too intense trying to stare down anyone who even looks at it and drop the whole cup. good effort, but now i have no drink.

kevin: no, he drinks it and now i once again have no drink.

andrew: maybe? unless i'm a new recruit and we're at eden's.... 😬 he'd fight off anyone else who tried to spike me, but god forbid i look a little suspicious and oop! there he goes, doing it himself. so maybe i'd rather not, actually.

matt: oh absolutely, are you kidding? he's holding all of the girl's drinks throughout the night, hand over the top. hell he's probably holding like three purses too. he's truly the carries everything bf when he goes out with the girls. i love him.

aaron: you know what, yeah. i would. i don't think he'd be super fixated on it with a hand over the top like matt, he'd probably just casually hold it for me while i'm in the bathroom and stand by the door, but i think he'd be chill enough to trust.

seth: corpses can't hold drinks. there is dirt in my beer now. absolutely not.

allison: my favorite girl's girl. absolutely. she has a hand over it and starts barking at anyone who even tries to come near my drink. maybe she bites a man. who knows! i love her.

nicky: no. he sits it down somewhere, forgets about it, and now i have no drink and the motherfucker won't even pay me back because he "didn't drink it." i'm not saying you did, babes, but that was a whole vodka cran and you lost it.

renee: yes, but she lectures me for two hours about drinking too much and being safe afterwards and kills my vibe. i do think she'd knife anyone who even tries to snatch it, tho, so i guess she's chill.

neil: i ask and he calls me a pussy and walks away. i get drugged and die. all he has to say at my funeral is "damn."

jean: he is also a girl's girl and gets really obsessive over keeping it safe. zones out of conversations because he's too focused on just staring at it. will not even fucking blink. he offers to hold it for me the rest of the night and i have to literally steal it back so he doesn't have a panic attack over trying to keep it within his sight at all times.

jeremy: also leaves it somewhere and forgets about it, but buys me three more to make up for it and apologizes so hard he cries. i get way drunker than i intended and also cry. we have to be carried home.

riko: the one they're keeping it away from. fuck no.

[allfortheslay25]

Bestie, your brain 👌👌👌 i love all of your aftg au's, mermaid and omegaverse especially. Any headcanons or other things you wish people would ask but haven't/generally be willing to share? Hope you're doing well 💜

Another au from the secret stash!

All for the Cult

I hid this one cuz I’m afraid it’d be controversial and up until this week, I hadn’t even shared it with my sister

I actually am writing a fic for it but the fic will not be published until it is completed. I don’t want to risk leaving it in the public on a hiatus so it’s safe with me until I can finish all the chapters

Basically instead of exy as the base of AFTG, it’s bastardized religion. Exy technically exists but instead of Tetsuji continuing Kayleigh and his pet project, he turns to forming a cult. Exy ends up being a dying sport no one really cares about unless it’s Kevin Day who still plays on the side of his true passion, communing with God.

Neil was a human sacrifice raised for slaughter until his mom took him and ran. Homeless and with no way out, Neil joins Wymack’s staff at his wayward home/church where junkies and sob stories go for their last second chance. No one actually has to pray to god or believe in the Bible’s teachings to work there as it is not a standard church and more like a theater than anything

The more kids Wymack recruits, the longer he gets to keep his church and program at the school

(Also side note but I was doing the comic of andreil but forgot my house looks like a Catholic Church threw up in it so I got awkward and couldn’t finish it)(oh and my sister renamed it all for the debauchery cuz she got to read the altar scene lol)

Key points and fun facts of this au:

- the Ravens are a cult cult instead of a sports cult

- Riko is obsessed with his holy trinity (perfect court)

- The Moriyamas are still a crime unit but Nathan is sort of a satanist on the side (Would like to say mass majority of satanists are not evil or bad, Nathan just is)

- Neil was born as a sacrifice. Mary took him and ran tho before the ritual

- The Foxes are ppl from broken pasts who work at Wymack’s church for scholarship/community service.

- Wymack’s church isn’t a standard catholic kind. He has his own unique spin on it so even those who aren’t religious can still work there. Campus students attend the services to watch the plays, hear the readings, listen to the choir, and some even use the confession box. Some even go to donate as the Foxes are connected to a bunch of charities

- Andrew is not a real priest. The cousins were apprentices for Luther for a couple years to get him off their backs. Because of his experience and eidetic memory, Wymack has Andrew do scripture readings and other tasks. In return, Andrew gets to be off the meds the entire time of mass

- the Foxes attend classes and work shifts at the church in their free time. If they flunk classes or skip church, their scholarship is revoked

- all of the Foxes live in the upstairs rooms above the church

- When Andrew first met Luther, Luther promised to take care of the Cass situation as long as Andrew gave God a try. Andrew only agreed to read the Bible and took Nicky’s since the Hemmicks were worried he’d vandalize a new one. Andrew thought it was a good read but mostly was humored by all of Nicky’s annotations

- Andrew doesn’t care about religion enough to hate it so he’s fine chilling around and hearing the preaching

- When Neil goes to the nest, he agrees to spend those weeks in Riko’s church where he’s ofc tortured. Riko no longer has the desire to sacrifice Neil as long as Neil joins his cult

- Renee holds a Bible study on Sunday evenings and Saturdays so weekends are Andrews days off

- Lots of their readings are done performatively with music, spoken word poetry, or with their own unique spins/translations of the text. (Every mass always starts with a disclaimer that what is being said/shown is their interpretation and not to be taken as the honest god given truth)

- whenever they raise enough money or supplies, the foxes celebrate by getting wasted; Wymack’s treat

- Betsy is still there for mandatory therapy sessions since the point of the scholarship is to rehabilitate troubled youth

- Abby is Wymack’s assistant but she also is a part time nurse

[yummybrainzz]

Yandere! Rich suitor idea

Hear me out-

The rich suitor that your parents have in mind for you to marry once you turn 30, the guy who's parents your parents are best friends and how they've been imagining their offspring getting married for decades! And how you absolutely can't stand your unofficial fiance!

Of course, he couldn't stand you either. All your lives grown up together with both your parents insinuating that you two will carry on their names. Each year you two would be sent off to some exotic vacation (your parents loosely supervising) and each year you both failed to hold a conversation without fighting. The pressure was always too much for you, you hated the idea of being tied down to some guy only your parents liked. And no matter how beautiful the boy was, he simply wasn't your type. He was too pretty, too spoiled, too prissy with his blonde hair tied in a ponytail and his stupid eyebrow piercing that made no sense considering his personality.

The guy you were supposed to marry felt the same, he couldn't understand what his parents saw in you. You were too wild, he couldn't imagine trying to carry on a family with how you barely even wanted to do school work. He didn't even consider ugly just so... Weird! With your weird, odd sense of fashion and refusal to think about your future , you were definitely not his type. You two hated each other.

Until the summer you two turned 21. The yearly vacation y'all took started off like any other. With both you dreading the sight of each other. But that changed very quickly once he saw you. This was the first year you two were alone, and maybe it was the fresh alcohol in your systems or the soft lights in whatever high class restaurant you were in, something clicked in your suitor's brain.

Turns out a year (or a couple) can really change the way you see someone. Whether he knew or not he started to admire the way you refused to comply with the strict set of rules set by the high class society you two lived in, and how you didn't care what anyone else thought of your peculiar way of self expression. It was admirable he had to admit.

And the night you two shared an accidental drunken kiss, it made the hair on his arms stand up, it made his face flush red(which he blamed on the liquor), and it made his heart pound in a way he never thought possible.

Every bone chilling reaction was forced out of him and it made his skin light on fire. After that night, he only wanted more to come out of your relationship.

But, the attraction was simply one sided.

You still only saw the same prissy boy. He still refused to look at things from more than one perspective, he still poked fun at your style of clothes, he still refused to say thank you to whatever person who was serving him!

He was everything you hated all wrapped up in one ball of a man.

And when he dropped the idea of getting married the next morning while you were still recovering from your hangover, you almost vomited.

-

"Ew! What the fuck are you talking about?!" You yelled while almost dropping the mug you had in your hand. The guy was just insulting you yesterday like he always does and now he's talking about marriage?

"You act as though marrying me is the worst thing possible." Andrew sighed while sipping on a glass of orange juice. He looked out the nearby window onto the private beach of the resort while leaning on the nearby wall. It didn't show but your response clearly hurt him just a bit.

"'Cuz it is." You groaned in frustration while sitting down on the living room couch. The guy you hate proposing is definitely not helping with your pounding headache.

You took a sip out of the mug of coffee and tried to rub away the ache from your temples. Why now of all times to propose? You two had at least 5 more years of freedom before yours and his parents would put their foot down and set a date for you two to sign the wedding papers.

"I mean- why not now? Its be better sooner than later, it would be like ripping off a bandaid-"

"Hell no." You sighed and set down your mug on the coffee table next to you and dropped your head onto a pillow. How were you going to deal with this?

"Anyway," you paused trying to gather your words, "don't you hate me? Why would you want to tie the knot so soon? I mean, you're an attractive guy right? Why don't you try out other options before having to-"

"I don't want other options."

You lifted your head and stared at Andrew for a second. The pink dusting his fair cheeks and avoidance of eye contact was all you needed to know.

You looked away from his face and stared at the wall behind him. Your head hurts even more than when you had woken up.

"I'm leaving."

"What?"

"I said I'm leaving." You hauled yourself off the couch and into your room. You could hear Andrews faint footsteps and even more of his questions but ignored it. You packed your backpack, only the necessities and a small bag of seashells. You were getting on the next plane and heading back home. Or wherever you could land first.

You were not staying here. You refused to marry. Not yet at least.

But as you try and open the door to leave, a large hand slams it shut before you can completely open it.

"Andrew. What the hell are you doing."

"You are not leaving." Andrew says while placing his other hand against the door, caging you.

You never realized how muscular Andrew was before this moment.

"Yes, I am. Now let go of the door-"

"No." He says in a much firmer tone.

It dawns on you that you're on a private beach with no one to hear you yell for help. You see one of his hands leave the door and for a second you think he's come back to his senses and stopped whatever crazy shit he was thinking- but instead he snaked his hand around your waist and lays his forehead on your shoulder.

"You're not leaving."

-

HEHEHEHE JUST A THOUGHT THOOO

Not proof read forgive me 😔

[beetboxx]

a siren’s call home - a.h.b x reader

pure, sickeningly sweet fluff in which you wake up to andy home from tour, finally.

content disclaimers: not proofread, religious reference, reference to sexual activity but no smut, language? maybe?

author’s note: we are so back squad. it’s only been like two years. i haven’t written in so long so we can call this a test run as i get back into the swing of things. ill update my intro post to better align with what im into! feel free to come and talk to me about prompts, ideas, random thoughts, whateva. i miiiiiiggghhhhtttt write some smut next. hope you enjoy!!

orange light intruded through window shutters like holy arms, caressing the cozy room you laid in with a touch of warmth to counteract the bite of cold at your feet and nose. what was also fighting against that was the thumb stroking the small crevice between your nose and your cheek, not doing much to help but comforting nonetheless. it was the exigence to your wakeup, a bit alarming at first until you understood the source- a large hand with long fingers attached to a proportionally long man smiling like the protruding rays of sun through draped brown, ginger-ish curls, most of it lazily pulled back into a bun at the back of his neck. you registered the vague freckles speckling his cheeks as you blinked lazily, huffing and tensing your grip in your blanket.

“hi.” he said, breathing out a laugh as you felt his calf rub up against yours and his hand smooth against your cheek to your hair to comb his fingers through it as best he could, his nails scratching your scalp ever so slightly.

you sleepily murmured a response, a quick, “hi, andy,” scrunching up your face when his palm returned to your cheek. his other ventured to your waist under the comforter, soft and delicate and squeezing the plains and valleys of your side a bit when he felt like it.

”you’re pretty.”

for such a poetic and profound man, able of expressing emotions so difficult to pin down, he was seemingly struck dumb in this moment over the sight of you. maybe in order to allow his wisdom to return, maybe in order to attempt to become impossibly close to you, his other hand paralleled the other on your waist, pulling you into his torso and wrapping around to meet at the small of your back. you nuzzled into his chest, taking in his familiar scent of a cologne reminiscent of dark forestry and a breeze and placing your own hand on his shirt at his heart to feel it flutter at your fingertips. comfortable, comforted.

“when’d you get back?” you asked, voice coming out as a mellow drawl.

andrew hummed, placed a kiss on the top of your head. “late.”

“you should have woken me up,” you whined, rubbing your eyes.

another kiss, this time to your forehead where your skin meets your hairline. his lips were warm against your chilled skin.

“you say that,” he teased, accent thick with sleep and homecoming, “but you would have crucified me had i actually done that.”

“crucified, no. pinned you to the bed in a similar pose and jumped your bones, maybe.”

you grinned, leaning your head back to allow enough room to kiss his jaw. a stubble met your lips, one that had grown out and been trimmed many times over the course of his touring, all phases of which you unfortunately, miserably, missed.

“hush. you’re dreaming.”

“am not.”

andrew laughed, you squeezed him in your arms. his laugh, although quiet in volume, felt like a dose of hospital-grade medicine to your yearning-induced blues in your system as soon as it entered your ears. his voice and presence was coaxing you awake, a process usually so difficult and taxing, flooding your growing consciousness in a pool of comfort. you missed him. you missed him like a wilted flower misses the sun. you missed him in a way that could only be equated to something of cosmic origin.

“i missed you,” he whispered. thank god.

you returned his sentiment. silence then fell like a thick blanket over you both, thicker than the one bunched up at your shoulder. it sat there for a long while, robbing the both of you of thought except for the feeling of relief. andrew’s thumb rubbed back and forth on your back, a reminder of existence so you didn’t float away. you could have sworn he fell asleep with how quiet he was and how steady and light his breathing was.

you sighed, began squirming your way to get up at least to a sitting position- but you didn’t get far, that ambition quickly being squashed by two lean arms squeezing tightly, barring you from moving away from andrew.

“no.”

a mumble, quick and straight to the point. you huffed out a chuckle, choosing not to argue and enjoy the moment. moments, andrew decided for the both of you. very long, undescriptive in quantity moments. one of his hands moved up to cradle the back of your head, pulling you in closer and raking into your hair to rub at your scalp. he was wearing a gray crewneck, you noticed, with unfamiliar blue embroidery of the name of some U.S. state, vintage style. you didn’t recognize it, guessing he must have gotten it on tour at whim.

he was definitely tired- exhausted, even. the lines and circles of color under his eyes had emphasized themselves, but the sight of you gave them a certain light that made you know he wasn’t going to sleep. too many thoughts, too many things to do now that he was home and finding himself complete. he was completely overwhelmed with the feeling of being home that he felt perfectly energized- that, and three cups of coffee he had had just before laying down beside you definitely helped. he took your hand in his as if he was inviting you to a dance, pressing the back of yours against his chest. to further trap you in his web or to just get closer to you, you’ll never know.

“honey, i have to get up eventually,” you remarked, trying to convince yourself more than him.

“no you don’t,” andrew immediately replied without skipping a single beat, tightening his grip on you in case you tried to pull a fast one on him and get out of bed. one of his legs, clad in loose cotton sweatpants, swung over both of yours under the covers, effectively holding you right where he wanted you in his arms.

“andrew, i have to be a functioning member of society,” you joked, wiggling around just a little with no actual attempt to break free from his hold. truthfully, you could never: he had a hold on you and your heart so tight and driven by fate that you were damned for eternity to be consumed by your love for him.

“i can make you breakfast,” you added, craning your neck back to smile at him.

andrew hummed, clicking his tongue. “ooh. very enticing and unfair,” he said. “trying to seduce me with the prospect of food.”

“seduce? i am merely giving you incentive.”

he paused, thinking. his head tilted, as it often does when he is thinking. you took his occupation with thought for an opportunity to make a smart decision and begin your day, freeing yourself from his entrapment and slinking off the bed. he acted quick, however, letting out a noise of surprise and disappointment wrapped in one and throwing himself across the bed to your side. andrew wrapped his arms around your waist as you stood, stopping you from moving too far away from

him. not again. you figured he would be a bit clingy getting back from tour, but this was taking it too another (but very welcomed) level.

“andrew!” you whined without any real weight to it as his chin rested on your hip, grinning happily. your fingers tangled themselves in his wild hair, frizzy from travel and the usual irish moisture. his hair tie was certainly not doing a fantastic job at keeping it all back, strands thick and thin escaping its weak confines. you giggle, “you’re like a puppy sometimes, you know that?”

“and you’re like.. ehm.. a siren.”

you playfully scoffed, “a siren?”

“oh, yes, a siren,” he grins, pulling your waist in until you were sitting back on the bed. “a beautiful but relentless creature with an inclination for luring and trapping defenseless men such as myself.”

“and eating them,” you added.

“whatever,” andrew said, pulling himself up to sit beside you so he could drag you into his lap. you turned yourself and straddled his thighs, arms wrapping around his neck, your intentions for the morning entirely forgotten.

he kissed your lips, softly, like he was testing the waters. you thought your breath stunk for a second with how gentle he was- until you tried to peel away, only for him to grab your face and keep you in his entrancing kiss. he deepened it, mouth opening slightly in rhythm with yours, lips dancing together like they hadn’t in so long.

you stayed that way for a while, letting andrew delicately consume your heart and soul and very essence with his neglected mouth. you could feel his breath mix with yours and span over your cheeks, and you swear it was full of helium with how light and floaty your lungs felt. you pulled away, eventually, taking a little more willpower than you would like to admit as his charged lips pulled yours in like a magnet.

he sighed, happy and content as he stared at you with big eyes, twinkling with every overwhelming emotion he had towards you.

“you have me entirely whipped, woman. like a siren.”

“i know,” you replied, kissing his lips again. “i’m glad you’re home.”

“i know.”

[tgcg]

you've probs been told this alot but you're amazing at writing these characters!! theyre so accurate to how they actually are in homestuck its crazy did you find out andrew hussie's secret Are u andrew hussie irl?? also youre just like a super chill sweet dude you seem like the friend ever i hope you have a good day!! and i guess for a prompt could you perhaps draw out nepeta interacting with dave in some way? id like to see how you think they would!! you dont have to though

cant refuse that request... these two are a goldmine. thaks so much also that is insanely high praise i hope u realise... seriously thanks take care yourself

[nogutsnogloria]

summary: lena is sick, the household is worried

andrew pope cody x reader

a/n: are we sick of my shitty summaries yet? i sure am. i promise i am also working on all the amazing requests in my inbox, i just want to do them justice :/ it’s a lot of pressure writing something that someone requests.

warnings: sick kid, mentions of being sick but nothing too graphic, feelings of helplessness.

you’re woken suddenly by andrew jumping out of bed. followed by the sound of lena being sick down the hall. now suddenly wide awake you spring out of bed to see what you can do to help. he says he will clean up the mess, and you can clean up lena. you take her to wash her face and brush her teeth, your heart breaking at her little sniffles and tear stained face. next you get her in a clean pair of pajamas and carry her into your’s and andrew’s room.

as soon as you get her into bed and crawl in beside her she climbs on top of you and clings to you like a koala . she feels way too warm to the touch, practically sticking to you. “lena, bug does it hurt anywhere? you ask gently running a hand through her sweaty hair. you take the hair tie from your wrist and use it to get lena’s hair up off her neck and into a messy bun.“my tummy hurts” you can feel her tears soak through the shirt you were wearing and you don’t think you’ve ever felt more helpless.

there had been a letter sent home from school warning households of a stomach flu that was making its way around, your grade one class was also dropping like flies.

andrew comes back into the room and kneels next to your side of the bed at eye level with lena. he rubs a hand gently up and down her back. when he feels just how warm she is, his eyes flick up to yours with worry. “do you want to switch and take her i will grab a couple of things” he picks lena up off you with no effort and she curls into his chest when he takes his spot on the bed.

when the letter came home you stocked up at the pharmacy hoping it would work as some weird reverse psychology plot, and even though it didn’t work your glad you have some remedies on hand. you grab the forehead thermometer and children’s tylenol out of the medicine cabinet. next stop is the linen closet to find a soft washcloth and head into the kitchen. you turn on the cold water to run and pull from the freezer what will probably be your silent secret weapon: a pedialyte popsicle. with the cold water you fill up a cup for lena and wet the cloth and wring out the excess. you load up your hands and head back to your room.

it’s now your turn to take a crouched position next to andrew’s side of the bed. first thing you do is take her temperature with the thermometer. it shows 102.7 degrees and you look at pope with a bit of a grimace and you turn it so he can see. he runs a protective hand down her back when he sees the reading. the next step no doubt will be the hardest, especially because it looks like andrew was able to stop the tears and shuddering breaths. so your stalling a bit by laying the cold washcloth on the back of her neck she instinctively shivers but you can see her face relax a bit from the chill on her heated skin. “lena i have some medicine for you to take” she begins to shake her head back and forth against andrew’s chest “no, no, no” she’s getting worked up again and you really can’t blame her. you can see the big tears welling up in her eyes again. “it’s just a little bit to help your tummy feel better and then you can have a popsicle. does that sound okay?” she takes a peak at you from where she’s hiding in pope’s neck at the mention of the popsicle you hold it up so she knows you’re telling the truth. you have the little cap poured of the dose ready to go in the other. “we don’t need to drink the medicine all in one try, we can take water breaks, and once you’ve finished this capful we can have the popsicle. does that plan work for you?” she’s looking at you like she really doesn’t believe you. “daddy used to make me finish the medicine in one gulp” that makes you tilt your head to meet her eyes “well we can try some little sips with water this time. it will all work the same i promise.”

lena nods and andrew is sitting up with her so that she can take the medicine, and all he can think about is how he’s so thankful for you and he doesn’t think he will ever be able to show you how much you actually mean to him especially in the moments like this when he’s so overwhelmed and feels like he’s in over his head. you bring a calm to lena’s life that she’s never had before, that he’s never had before. you even without thinking are letting him be the good guy when you hand him the popsicle to administer after she’s finished the tylenol. you hold the medicine and her water cup in your hands and let her take the lead on how much she wants to try at once. she surprisingly does pretty well all things considered, only stopping for water twice before she finished the dose. “uncle pope can i have my popsicle now?” he’s opening the package and her little hand takes it from his so she can eat it. you pick up everything and grab the cloth off her neck to run more cold water on it. once you’ve put everything away you head back into the bedroom. lena has finished her popsicle so you take the wrapper and stick and place them in the garbage.

andrew gently lays back down with her, and you place the re-chilled cloth back on her neck. he pulls the top sheet over the two of them, feeling like the comforter would be too much right now. you climb back into bed and perched on your side facing them. you watch lena’s eyes start to droop as she relaxes back to sleep on his chest. you reach up and start to thread your fingers into andrew’s curls trying to comfort him too, knowing that he’s not going to sleep the rest of the night. he pulls the hand from his hair and kisses the pulse point on your wrist, while rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. “having you by my side in these moments makes me think that maybe i won’t screw her up.“ he sounds like he might be a bit emotional, but you won’t mention it. you shuffle a bit closer, making sure you don’t disturb lena to give him a kiss on his cheek. “as long as you let me, i will spend all my days showing you what it is like to be loved.” he kisses your hand again and you get comfy in the pillows after that you falling asleep with your hand in his.