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#andrews way to show love are everything
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For me is so pure that Andrew's first real smile in YEARS was for Kevin when he got the queen and the fact that he never saw it was poetic.
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greyhavensking · 5 months
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everyday I wish for the possibility of an all for the game tv series solely because of my desire to see real, live people play exy
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redding · 6 months
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oh my GODDDD i fucking love the rick vs okafor argument in episode one holy shit it's so good. craig tate and andrew lincoln complement each other so well it's SO tense SO emotional SO interesting i will never be over it i fear
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itsjuliak5 · 1 year
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Little Things I Loved from Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse:
Mrs. Chen being completely unfazed by the Spot. Mrs. Chen showing up in general.
The legos!
Spider-Punk cheering on MayDay; “Kid’s an anarchist,” “Take a crap on the establishment, I like it.”
There’s a part where one of the Doctor Octopuses says “Hi Peter” and I’m 99.9% sure it was Alfred Molina’s voice from “No Way Home”
The other little scenes/pictures from the original Spider-Man movies with Tobey and the ones with Andrew.
Ben Reilly narrating everything he does. (Shoutout to Andy Samberg)
Peter Parkedcar
Donald Glover as the Prowler!
Miguel’s suit has little glitches on them, or like static.
There was a Spider-Man holding a hockey stick.
Dino-Spider-Man!!
“Well maybe you should just get off the kid’s ass.”
Jefferson Morales calling Gwen “emo.”
Peter using his bath robe as a cape.
Mayday shooting a web at the phone to take a picture of her and Peter.
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romanscoming · 9 months
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Love your stranger things work!! 🤤😍
PLEASE MAKE A MARVEL OR SPIDERMAN TWT LINKS PLZ 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻
MERRY CHRISTMAS 2 YOU ALL <3 !
MARVEL - PORN LINKS !
VOL. 1 - [ MALE ~ !PART1 ]
NEW TAGLIST | REQUEST | WATTPAD
SEND REQUESTS &MAKE SURE TO DO THE TAGLIST !!
INCLUDES: Thor Odinson, Peter Parker { TOM & ANDREW }, Steve Rogers `Captain America, Tony Stark `Iron Man, Dr. Stephen Strange, Loki Laufeyson, Eddie Brock/Vemon, Bucky Barnes, Bruce Banner/Hulk (MORE IF REQUESTED)
WARNING: these are links that contain porn, sexual activities.. so be aware.
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——
↣ THOR ODINSON
THOR feels like heaven when u ride him .
THOR loves it when you worship him to beyonce <3 !
THOR pounds inside of u in the closet next to the meeting room .
THOR like some wild shii, and ur just here for it .
↣ PETER PARKER
PETER always wanted to eat you out, and you finally let him .
PETER1 & PETER2 both came too help u release some stress .
PETER doesn't like u teasing him at school, so he fucks u at home.. long and hard
PETER failed his mission, and needs you .
↣ STEVE ROGERS
STEVE loves it when you use him as your person dildo .
STEVE loves ur special halloween costume he even fucks u in it .
STEVE is madly in love with your tight little pussy, he wants to cum inside u and fill u all the way up all the time .
STEVE can fuck you all night long, he doesn't care.. he js needs you wants u and has to feel ur insides, he wants your legs shaking and everything inside of u.
↣ TONY STARK
TONY will fuck you anywhere in the avengers hq, he doesn't give a fuck .
TONY will never let u bath in peace, u have to be full of his cock .
TONY special bday present, he's been dying for this .
TONY breeds you full, not letting a single one of his kids fall out of ur prefect pussy hole .
↣ DR. STEPHEN STRANGE
DR. STRANGE find u in the kitchen and place u on to his dick .
DR. STRANGE loves the feeling of their cum spill inside of u .
DR. STRANGE wants u to jerk him off and keep eye contact .
DR. STRANGE can't keep his hands off of u when ur riding him sooo good .
↣ EDDIE BROCK / VEMON
EDDIE is a real softy when your on top of him .
EDDIE randomly pops in at your apartment and fucks u brainless standing up .
EDDIE & VEMON always take care of u, ur their little baby and fuck toy .
EDDIE/VEMON has u bouncing babbling and more on his dick .
↣ LOKI LAUFEYSON
LOKI has been mad all day, & what's better than release all his anger out on u ?
LOKI always wants it raw, as soon as u wait up, as soon as your home.. anywhere.
LOKI thinks he should start punishing you more after this .
LOKI has to fill u up with his cum before leaving on a mission .
↣ BUCKY BARNES
BUCKY has attachment issue.. he has to show u that he loves u and he has to be close by u, he has to b deep inside u .
BUCKY does not play with it comes to creampies and backshots .
BUCKY doesn't think u can handle him, so u show him u can .
BUCKY will never stop breeding u, ur gonna b his little momma someday .
↣ BRUCE BANNER / HULK
BRUCE always lets u take control, because your is prefect girl ^^ .
HULKS dick straight in ur cunt, over and over and over .
BRUCE wants u bouncing on his dick while natasha watches and help .
BRUCE gets a promotion and wants u to make u happy .
| SORRY FOR NOT POSTING, I'VE BEEN REALLY BUSY BUT IM HERE NOW, AND ILL B FEEDIN U PUMPKINS <3.
~ BE PREPARED FOR A LOT OF P LINKS BECAUASE I HAVE A COMPLE OF REQUESTS FOR THEM, AND FEEL FREE TO REQUEST ONE OF ANY FANDOM !!
` ILL START THE TAGLIST SOON IT JS MAKES ME NERVOUS FOR SOME REASON !
IF ANY MISTAKES OR ERRORS PLEASE LET ME KNOW !
©️ trustynjaay
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csuitebitches · 1 year
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How to Wake Up Early
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I always wanted to be one of those girls who would wake up early, go for a run and be super productive with their mornings. The issue is - i really love sleep. Every time i would start a routine, i would eventually fail. I would wake up to turn the alarm off, think to myself “5 mins more” and boom- it’s suddenly 8:30 am and i need to leave for work in less than 1 hour.
Two videos on YouTube really changed my mind. One was Andrew Huberman’s, and the other was Jihyo, a k-pop star.
I came across Andrew Huberman’s video about dopamine, and somehow, it helped me to understand why the difficulty waking up early is so important. Now I’m no expert of neuroscience, but let me explain to the best of my abilities.
Dopamine is essentially the build up to the reward; it is not the reward. It is the satisfaction and happiness you feel (when your body releases), after you have achieved something that was painful/ required you to struggle a bit. In order to receive this reward, you have to feel pain, because pain and satisfaction are directly related to each other. Satisfaction without pain is useless and does nothing for you essentially.
That got me wondering: for me, waking up early is difficult. It’s painful. I dont want to do it. But if I do it, its my first win of the day. It’s the first challenge I have overcome of that day, and I always do feel amazing after. The dopamine release after the struggle of waking up and winning the battle of not going back to sleep is definitely there. I feel more confident because a) I have done the “right” thing b) selfishly, i can do something so simple that a lot of people struggle with c) it weirdly makes me feel more confident and like I’m doing the first step of being an adult right.
Jihyo’s video was quite random - she did some show where it shows her daily life when she’s not working. Parts of it made me feel like she’s unable to just relax with herself (probably because her body and mind are so used to chaos, performing, her girl group living together for so many years) so she busies herself a lot. I took the positives from the video; she’s extremely disciplined which I admired, she gets her chores done, she’s good at ensuring that her space is truly her space.
So I decided to build a relatively foolproof routine; but mind you, it does require quite a bit of willpower.
I’ve developed a habit of waking of waking up at 5 am. I head straight for a 30-45 minute meditation and then at least an hour long workout. I stack my habits that way; right after meditation, I put on my running shoes. I used to really struggle with waking up, even if I had to wake up late. This is the strategy that worked me, see if it works for you.
1. Reset your space the night before
This makes you feel less stressed in the morning and also genuinely makes you feel like you have your shit together. Put your clothes away, keep your bag in its place, clean up your desk, reorganise your make up and skin care products. You’re going to go to sleep and wake up to a clean space.
Make sure you define both your bedtime and wake up time. My bedtime is 9:30 pm - so i manage my chores, reading, dinner, everything around that.
2. Early dinner
I’ve noticed that early dinners help me sleep better. I’ve built the habit of casually walking for 25-30 minutes post dinner (not right after eating, after about 15 mins). I’m not walking fast to a point where I’m sweating and puffing, I’m casually strolling outside. During this time, I don’t listen to music, interact with anyone or my phone. I use this time to connect with myself and think about whatever I feel like.
3. No devices before sleeping
I don’t want to stimulate myself before sleeping, so I prefer reading before bed. If you don’t like reading, you can instead do your skincare, maybe revise some physical study notes, etc.
4. Using Alarmy app
This app is torture and I swear by it. This little thing makes you a solve a challenge of your choice in order to make the alarm stop, like math problems, puzzles, etc. I chose 5 math problems.
5. Keep your phone across the room
Don’t charge it near your reach. Keep it as away from you as possible.
6. Stand for two minutes after shutting off the alarm
Don’t allow yourself to snooze, or go back to bed. This is the part that really requires you to tell yourself: “i am not going back to sleep. I’m going to wake up and do the things I have to do for my own benefit.” Remember - the states of heaven and hell are not outside of you, they’re inside you. They are mental states. You have to fight with your lazy demon and tell him/her/whoever that NO; we are NOT going back to bed.
I charge my phone across the room so that forces me to walk first thing in the morning. To stop myself from going back to sleep, after i have shut the alarm off, i just stand for 2 minutes. I dont sit, or go back to bed. I stand and tell myself, we’re doing this. We’re going to wake up and have an amazing day.
Your mind is like a child with tantrums and mood swings. Your rational self has to discipline your mind the way a parent would to a child.
7. Turn a small light on
Not something that is jarring or overwhelming, but enough to help you start waking up. I turn my phone’s flashlight on and keep it on my desk.
8. Be consistent, even on weekends
The biggest mistake you can make is not being consistent. Your body doesnt recognise weekends, your mind does. Your body doesn’t know that tomorrow is Monday, so its time to wake up early. By staying consistent (yes, I wake up at 5 am on weekends too), it allows my body to develop its own body clock and not wrecking the system I’ve kept in place.
What do I do if I have a late night?
It really depends. Let’s say I come home relatively early (+2 hours around my bedtime) around 11 pm, and im in bed by 11:30. I’ll wake up somewhere close to 5 am, like 6 am instead. The next day I ensure I’m in bed by the bedtime I’ve kept for myself and wake up at 5 am again.
If I come home really late, like 3 am - i keep my alarm exactly 8 hours from that time. I need to get sleep, but oversleeping is an issue and that wont allow me to wake up early the next day. I want to get enough sleep where im rested for the day, but not excessively. Unfortunately, sleeping so late would definitely mean that i wont be able to fall asleep at my dot 9:30 pm bedtime, but i turn the lights off and get ready to sleep by then anyway, and mentally prepare for my 5 am wake up call.
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double-aa-batteries · 5 months
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things about about TSC I can't stop thinking about
"hindsight was a backstabbing bitch"
curtains symbolizing jeans healing journey, how he keeps them closed at Abby's in a effort to recreate the nest in search of some normalcy, how he opens them and looks out the window his new apartment, seeking calm in his overwhelm
"I want to go home" (13) meaning evermore vs. "I want to go home" (329) meaning to his apartment with Laila, Cat and jeremy
the fact that jean's phone is probably still in Abby's freezer
Kevin "their kindness matters" Day
Neil's smile is as unsettling to everyone else as it is to him and he has so much more Nathaniel in him than he recognizes in his own pov
Jean is so similar to neil in that they're both petty, dramatic bitches who care deeply about their teammates' safety
riko and the ravens quite literally took jean's name from him (Jean-Yves, Jonny, Paris)
"[Renee's] love was so tender it looked like grief as it curled her mouth and made her eyes shine"
jean gets forehead kisses from Renee and Cat
"that creepy little goalkeeper Andrew Minyard"
jean's many nicknames for neil: tiny bastard, tedious malcontent, abominable cockroach, wretched little runaway, ignorant child, etc.
Neil took the bandage off of jeans 3 and promptly stuck it over Kevin's chess peice
"I should have let him kill you," Jean said. "Probably," Neil agreed, "but you didn't, so here we all are."
"...aside from his outstanding murder charge, there was nothing interesting about that fox"
the fact that the point of tfc was to show characters who couldn't/wouldn't/ or were unable to heal from the trauma they had faced and yet from the very beginning and without question, TSC is about jean clawing his way forward and toward healing no matter what
the cheese drawer
dadmack dialed up to 1,000 See: "i will burn this house down before I let them touch you"
bisexual jean Moreau panicking over his teammates in swimsuits and Jeremy's long legs
"He's earned the right to be arrogant"
riko couldn't bring himself to hurt wymack because he was Kevin's father and Kevin was like a brother to riko and riko has always yearned for a father's recognition
Alvarez has a motorcycle and jean didn't say no to learning how to ride it
we know next to nothing about Jeremy Knox despite having chapters in his pov (why was he in therapy? why was his dad in France? what the hell did he do at the Fall banquet his freshman year to tear his family in half?)
that being said: Jeremy Knox is a rich boy with a butler
everything about Catalina Alverez
the fact that Jeremy knox has two brothers and one of them is probably dead
"rather than force the Trojans underground for that part, they simply built steps up and over it inside the stadium" the JUXTAPOSITION
Alvarez cooks and so now does jean
we know for a fact riko subjected Kevin to "subtler cruelties" while he was in the nest
"they never should have said yes when you asked" and "I didn't ask"
"as if you can tell a girl apart from a cow on a good day"
"permission to break his face, coach?" jean asked. "denied," white said.
all of thanksgiving pt. II
"alarm looked wrong on a face born for smiling"
jean casually saying "your apologies are as useful as perfume on a frog" to Lucas
Neil's whole relationship with Jean
David "I believe we all have the choice to be better than the hands that shaped us" Wymack
Neil generally being a menace to society but especially "Neil, being the person he was, pointed at the fire hydrant adjacent to it's front bumper and said, 'thats illegal, just so you know.'"
"the cracking heat in his chest could have been his ribs snapping or his heart breaking"
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geekforhorror · 4 months
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hiiii love ur writing sm !! i don’t have many specifics but i know i’d like to see corruption kink nd dacryphilia w/ jamie:)) thank u sm:) !!
thank you for the kind words anon! when i first saw this ask i actually moaned 😫
cherry pie
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pairing: dbf!james kelly x fem!reader
warnings: SMUT (DNI IF YOU’RE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH IT!), dom!james, sub!reader, unprotected p in v sex, degradation, dacryphilia, corruption kink, rough sex, possessiveness, jealousy, pet names, fluff, etc.
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“You think you can just walk around outside flaunting what has always been mine, sweetheart?” James rasps into the shell of your ear as he fucks you raw. “You thought wrong.”
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You had just flown home from college and decided to stop by your dad’s house. To your surprise, he had thrown you a welcome home party and invited your closest friends, some family, and most importantly: his best friend James.
Coincidentally, you just so happened to be wearing the skimpiest clothing imaginable. In front of James. As soon as the party officially started, you made your way around the house thanking everyone who had managed to show up. Everything was going well until you started conversing with your good family friend, Andrew. Unbeknownst to you, James had become furious once he saw the two of you exchanging harmless words to one another. He hated it and the rage in his eyes only confirmed it even more. You were his, even if the two of you weren’t a thing.
He decided to take matters into his own hands and stormed outside, intending to walk over to the two of you and stop anything else from happening between you and Andrew. Once he finally made his way over to you, he cleared his throat, which startled you.
“Hi James! It’s so nice to see you,” you said with an illuminating smile plastered on your face.
“Who’s this?” James asks with no hesitation, a look of disgust as he looks directly into Andrew’s eyes.
“James, this is Andrew. Andrew, this is James.” you say with an inviting voice.
“Nice to meet you man,” Andrew says to the man.
“Wish I could say the same. I need to talk to your friend alone, kid. Now beat it,” he says, not even trying to hide the harsh nature of his words.
“Whatever dude,” Andrew says before walking away to get a drink.
“What was that Jamie?! Andrew’s nice!” you ask in a scolding voice.
“He was getting a little too close to you for my liking,” James says coldly.
“You don’t get to decide who I can and can’t talk to! You don’t own me!” you say in a fit of anger.
“You can deny it all you want, but you know deep down that I do own you.”
And boy was he right. I mean how else would you have ended up being fucked on your bed?
“Such a fucking little brat, huh? Had to throw a damn temper tantrum at your own party, didn’t you? Whose idea do you think it was to have this party?” he grunts while plowing himself deeper into your aching hole.
“Fuck Jamie…” you cry out as you feel his fat cock stretch you out ever so deliciously.
“Poor baby…already so drunk on her daddy’s best friends cock,” he tuts in fake disapproval.
He had managed to make a girl like you lose composure with only a few thrusts. You would be lying if you said you never dreamed of this. Him doing this to you. He wanted to ruin you, so that no other man could have you.
“No boy can fulfill your deepest desires like I can. That’s why you need a man like me,” he says full of lust. “You belong to me.”
“Please…need more…” you plead, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.
“Greedy girl, aren’t ya, darling?” he asks, already knowing the answer you would give him.
“Only for you,” you reply in a choked sob, tears finally streaming down your cheeks from how he was splitting you open. It was enough to have your toes curling and see stars.
“Lemme see those pretty tears, baby,” he says before bringing his tattooed hand to your face to wipe them even further down your cheeks. You feel his tight balls slap against the curve of your ass, which provides some much needed friction.
“James ‘m so close! Please let me cum…” you beg of him, too far gone to even paint a picture in your mind of how desperate you are in this moment.
“Promise me that you’re mine,” he demands of you.
“I’m fucking yours Jamie…all fucking yours!” you let out with raggedy moans as he stuffs you with even more of his dick.
“That’s what I like to hear. Now let go for me, m’kay sweetie? Prove that I made the right decision to let you cum,” he says in between his erratic movements, his words only spurring the two of you on. He finally hits that spot deep inside of you, enough for you to teeter over the edge and finally milk his cock with your sweet release.
James throws his head back at the feeling while still pile driving himself at an agonizing pace into your spent pussy. Before he knows it, his sticky ropes of seed spill into your walls, where it would stay for the rest of the night if it were up to him.
He finally pulls out and then positions himself so he’s laying directly next to your achy body. As the two of you catch your breath from your guys’ respective orgasms, he caresses your tresses.
“I love you,” he says, breaking the silence once and for all, causing you to look at him in shock.
“You love me?” you ask, wondering if you had heard him right.
“How could I not, baby?” he responds.
“I was just wondering because…I love you too Jamie.” you admit.
The look he gave you was one of awe and admiration. You felt so lucky to have a man who cared for you deeper than you could’ve ever imagined. Needless to say, he felt the same way.
“So where do we go from here?” he asks nervously with a chuckle.
“I may have an idea,” you say before pressing a gentle kiss to his soft lips.
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tag list: @zapernz @mortalheartache @midnight-raine @camiemorgan8 @myheartwillgoon2022 @demieyesore
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ccsainzleclerc5516 · 6 months
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Come Home With Me (part 1)
Pairing: Carlos Sainz x reader
Warnings: angst
a/n: was sorta crying while writing this, i love this sm..there’s going to be part 2! hope you enjoy it!
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From the first moment one of your close friends told you she was getting married, you knew you'd have to mentally prepare for the fact that on her wedding day, your ex would be there.
It wasn't just any ex. It was Carlos Sainz. Your first true love. The boy you thought was the one. The boy with whom you were the happiest ever and for whom you thought there was no one else after him.
But things don't always work out the way we want them to. There is no greater pain than when two people who are made for each other meet at the wrong time.
Even though you both knew it would be difficult, you didn't want to give up on each other at first. When you met, you were 23 and he was 28. You were in the middle of finishing college in Madrid, which meant a lot of responsibilities, a lot of sacrifices, a lot of hard work and effort, a lot of suffering. And he just signed the contract with Ferrari and wanted to prove himself, show what he can do, show that he deserves to be where he is, he focused all his time and energy on his career.
You pushed together for two years, you tried somehow to find time for each other, but over time it became too difficult. He had no understanding of your needs, he devoted himself too much to work and, if you were the one to ask, in the end he gave up too easily on you, on the two of you.
Being with him was difficult at times, but being without him was countless times worse.
Even though you were very young when you first started dating, you wanted everything with him. You didn't see yourself with anyone else but him, nor did you want anyone else but him. And he, 5 years older than you, for him you were not his first love, but you were his greatest. You were his niña. That's how he used to call you. His niña bonita.
You were the one who ended things with him, but that didn't ease your pain at all. On the contrary, you expected him to fight for you, to say okay, we'll find a way to solve this, but he didn't. Therefore, you couldn't wait to finish college and return home to Monaco. You adored Madrid, you fell in love with that city as much as you did with Carlos, but after the breakup it was simply impossible to stay where every street, park, square, every corner where you were together reminded you immeasurably of him.
And so two years later, when your friend Isabella told you she was getting married and that Carlos would be at the wedding, you knew you weren't ready to see him. Two years later you had a new boyfriend Andrew, but deep down you knew you never got over Carlos.
Isabella was the one who introduced you to Carlos. The two of them have always been good friends, so it was logical that he would be invited, but you didn't think about it at all because you tried to suppress every thought about him. You knew you weren’t ready, but there wasn’t nothing you could do about it.
When that long-awaited wedding day came, as you all watched the bride walk towards the altar, you couldn't help but search for his face in the crowd of people in the church.
You shifted in place the whole time, your knees rocking back and forth. Even Andrew noticed something was going on with you.
“Are you alright, love?” He startled you when he asked. You almost forgot Andrew was standing right there behind you.
“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry.” You gave him a fake reassuring smile just so that he doesn’t ask any more questions.
You searched and searched and suddenly your eyes stopped at the last row of benches. There he stood, in a dark blue suit, his hair brushed to the side and freshly cut, more beautiful than ever. When you saw him, you didn't know that his brown eyes had already been watching you ever since he entered the church.
Your eyes immediately filled with tears as your gaze met his. It was the perfect moment to pretend you were crying for Isabella walking down the aisle.
“You sure you’re alright?” Andrew whisper-asked again.
“I’m just emotional, everything’s okay.”
In the evening when you arrived at the hotel where the wedding party was, your idea of ​having a good time was long forgotten. The venue was beautiful and luxurious. Everyone was happy, dancing and enjoying the newlyweds' day, only you were extremely nervous because you could feel Carlos' eyes on you all evening.
You tried to ignore him, to relax with a few drinks, but it was simply impossible to pretend he wasn't there.
“I'm going to go out on the terrace for some fresh air, okay?” You turned to Andrew who was talking to a friend that was sitting next to him.
“Okay, love. Give me a kiss.” He said. You leaned down to peck his lips before taking a glass of champagne and heading out.
There were a few people on the terrace, but you found an empty corner for yourself. You leaned your elbows on the fence and took a deep breath, closing your eyes in front of the night lights of beautiful Monaco.
Feeling the cool breeze on your skin, you wished it would take away all the pressure and sadness you carried with you. You wished that it would clear up everything cloudy in your mind that has been preventing you from moving on for two years already.
After about 10 minutes, you pulled yourself together and wanted to go back inside. Just as you finished up the champagne from the glass, you turned to go inside, but suddenly your breath stopped when you saw none other than Carlos standing behind you with his hands in his pockets and watching you with tilted head.
Your heart started pounding like crazy and your body froze in front of him.
“Carlos..” You barely spoke in a whisper.
“Y/n” He said quietly taking a step closer to you making you take a step back until your back hit the fence.
You didn't know what to say, what to do, even if you wanted to run away, your feet were as if glued to the floor. You just stood there in front of him looking straight into his eyes.
“What are you doing out here alone?” He asks breaking the silence between you two.
“I just needed to get some fresh air, that’s all.” You weren’t lying.
“Did my presence make you nervous?”
“No, your presence here doesn’t have anything to do with me.” But now you were.
“How have you been?”
“Good, very good actually.” Another lie.
“You’re not gonna ask me how I’ve been?”
“That’s none of my business anymore, so no. I don’t care.” He nods his head at your untrue words looking down at the floor.
“So who is that boy you came with?”
“That’s Andrew. My boyfriend.” You say biting the inside of your cheek. You almost felt guilty for calling him your boyfriend. Andrew. You were sure he was gonna go look for you if you don’t come back soon. “I should go. He’s probably looking for me right now.” You say trying to walk by past him, but he stops you by pulling you back by your elbow.
“Don’t go yet.”
“Why not? We have nothing to talk about.” You pull your elbow out of his grip, but you don't leave.
“Because you never left my mind.” He says. “Or heart.” He adds.
“It’s a little too late for that. You should’ve thought about that before you let me go.”
“Y/n, you were the one who broke up with me. I never wanted to end things between us.”
“You didn’t want to end things between us yet you gave up on us without a fight, so easily Carlos..” You fought with yourself not to cry. You didn't want to look weak in front of him even though you wanted to let him know how much he hurt you.
“That doesn’t mean I stopped loving you.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better or what?” You asked with a sneer. “I have a boyfriend now, I moved on Carlos. I’m happy.” You say hoping you sound convincing at least to him if not to yourself.
“You’re lying, I know you are. I can feel it.” He takes another step closer until you can feel his breath on your skin as he looks down at you. He puts his hands on the fence on either side so that you are between them. “You can lie to yourself all you want, but you know you’re always gonna be mi niña. Mi niña bonita.” Your heart aches and trembles at the same time at your forever favorite nickname. He puts his hand on your cheek as he leans very close to your face.
“Carlos, stop..” Your voice cracks as you lean your cheek into his hand.
“Come home with me, baby. Please.”
“And where is that Carlos? Where is my home?”
“Your home is in Madrid, with me.” His hands move from your face to your hands taking them into his and bringing them to his lips.
“You know, while Isabella was walking down the aisle, I couldn't help but imagine that it was you, and that I was there waiting for you at the altar.” Tears just flowed down your cheeks as you listened to him say everything you once wanted to hear.
“Remember how we used to fantasize about it. I still want all of that, y/n. Letting you go was the biggest mistake ever. I am so sorry baby.”
“Yet you never cared enough to look for me. Your words don’t match your actions, Carlos.” Once again you pull yourself out of his grip and step away further from him. Listening to him was causing you too much pain especially because you still wanted all of that as well, but your pride did not allow you to surrender to your emotions.
“Because I knew you were suffering and I didn’t want to be the reason of that! I’m sorry, y/n, I wish I could go back in time and make you stay.” He says flustered, waving his arms.
Right in that moment, Andrew’s voice interrupts you breaking you from your bubble in which you found yourself in completely forgetting where you are.
“Y/n?” You quickly wipe the tears from your cheeks and the smeared mascara under your eyes.
“Well, I’m sorry too, Carlos.” With that you leave him standing there on the terrace as you turn around and head towards Andrew.
part 2
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We all know by now Andrew and Neil are light sleepers because of trauma and being in unsafe places but I just read some of the extras and I picture this scenario:
Andrew wakes up night after night when the cats jump onto the bed the first few months because he is not used to their weight and they didn't learn yet to do get on from Neil's side.
Neil of course gets woken up by Andrew's panic and gets worried (he's also starttled at first) and tries to help and reassure him, but at the end neither of them goes back to sleep.
At the beggining is fine, they are both used to fucked up schedules but they are people and obvious they start to get cranky and fight a lot (more) during the day for silly reasons. Other people is noticing it too and then it affects their performance on the court.
So one night, Andrew decides to "sleep" on the couch (he thinks he could be awake all night binging some show to avoid beeing paranoid) and this is because he saw that Neil really needed to sleep well at least one night. He does not feel guilty, tho, he's just Andrew and cares for Neil way more than he cares about himself.
Ok.
So that night he innevitably falls asleep and is woken up by Sir who is now on his chest curled up as a fluffy ball.
He starts to get mad, but he can't. Not really when he picks the cat up and it is sooooo soft. And then Sir tries to lick his hands (he might be snacking when he passed out) and lets out a quiet "meow" because he can't reach him well.
And Andrew looses it. He starts laughing to the point he cries.
Because everything is fine. It's just a cat. His cat.
And no matter how broken he is, Sir would love him and do it again a million times more. Because he had chosen him.
Just like Neil who's staring at this situation in silence from the livingroom door.
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mabelstone · 4 months
Text
Imagine Being Loved by Me
hozier x f! reader
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part three of lullabies <3 | part two | masterlist
cw: 18+, nothing too serious but a bit teeeny bit of smut
word count: 3.2k
taglist: @princezty @somethinglikero @jimihendrixpopfigure
Three weeks have gone by since I walked in on Joe piledriving another woman in my bed.
Three weeks ago after a beautiful morning of jazz music, pancakes, and instant coffee, Andrew drove me back to my house to pick up my car. I sent him away with an earnest hug, putting on my bravest face as I let myself inside. No shit, there were rose petals on nearly every inch of floor board. I fought the urge to roll my eyes, instead, tiptoed upstairs into my room. Joe was asleep in bed, and I nearly tasted my breakfast for a second time that morning. Instantly, I felt nauseated, the type that makes you hot and dizzy and want to run away and never come back.
I pushed the feeling back down, determined to grab all my shit and forget this tainted cell of a house I once loved more than anything. Furiously, I began stuffing all of my clothes into a suitcase. Then in another bag, I took everything that belonged to me; sheets, towels, everything down to the last teabag. I was fuelled with rage, huffing and puffing my way around the house, lugging my bags out to my car. Oh, fuck. My keys.
Where are my car keys?
I searched the house like a mad woman, tearing apart the couches, looking in every cupboard and under every piece of furniture. Nothing. I called Andrew, asking if I'd had them at the bar, as if he'd know the answer if I didn't. "Ehm... just your house keys? I tink..."
"I tink you're no help," I mocked, hanging up with the briefest of smiles before I was playing detective again. I searched for nearly an hour before caving in and waking Joe.
I shook his shoulder roughly, standing back with my arms crossed once he finally stirred awake.
"Mmm..." He groaned, and I waited patiently with a scowl for him to realise it was me and not some broad off the street. "Oh, you're finally home."
"Where are my keys?" I deadpanned, fuse shorter than ever. I wasn't in the mood for the slightest conversation with him.
"I missed you so much, babe," he sighed, pulling my stiff body into a hug. I peeled myself away from him, repeating myself.
"Where are my keys, Joe? I left them in the fruit bowl, and now they are gone."
"Let's talk first before we make any hasty decisions," he coaxed, pulling me by my wrists onto the bed beside him. "I can't explain how sorry I am."
"Joe, please."
"I've been up all night crying, my heart is broken," he sighed emphatically, taking my hand into his. Oh, you're the heartbroken one? "I can't imagine a life without you."
"You weren't thinking that way when you were fucking the girl you met at my show."
"You hadn't had sex with me in weeks! I was getting desperate-"
"Just stop," I barked, throwing his hand off of me. "Give me my car keys so I can leave. This doesn't need to be any harder than you've already made it."
After minutes of brutally painful back and forth, he gave me the keys to his safe. I unlocked it to find my keys and an open jewellery box with a sparkling engagement ring. He was sitting on the bed, eyes filled with optimism, and I almost fell for it.
My phone buzzed and I saw a message from Andy.
You haven't crashed your car have you? X
I took my keys and closed the safe, turning on my heels out of the bedroom.
"Um, what the fuck?" Joe called out as he followed close behind me, roughly grabbing at my arm when I was halfway out the front door. "I just proposed to you, and you don't even have the decency to say no?"
"No," I replied, unlocking my car and tossing my bags into the boot.
"What? Babe, don't throw this away," he began to cry, clearly panicked.
"I haven't thrown anything away. You have." I shoved him away by his chest, just about ready to boil over with anger. "You have destroyed any shred of trust I had in you. It's over, Joe."
My tough act began to slip as my voice shook, climbing into my car and slamming the door shut before he could see how hard this really was on me. He screamed something inaudible at me as I drove away, and I watched him sob into his hands from the rearview mirror.
I cried the entire drive to my mums, ignoring the hundreds of calls I missed from him.
Andrew and I continued to spend time together. I spent many nights at my mums place while I tried to look for a house. I didn't have rental history as Joe wouldn't put me on the lease... because I didn't have rental history. "Babe, it'll just make everything harder," was once his excuse.
When my step dad would get unbearable, Andrew would invite me to spend the night. These nights would frequently begin with me sobbing about how broken hearted I was, and end with him and I snuggling on the couch to a movie. Innocent enough, sure. But after weeks of abstinence following six years of frequent sex, I was pent up. So pent up to the point where I would have to excuse myself for some time alone with his retractable shower head. Many of my thoughts of Andrew were so explicit, you'd think they were from the brain of a teenage boy who'd plough through two boxes of tissues a day. This of course left me feeling inexplicably guilty and beyond confused.
Tonight, we drank wine and sang cheesy duets together. We clumsily danced and laughed until we cried. He had the coordination of a newborn giraffe, and though I'd never admit it to him, I wasn't much better. He drunkenly rambled about how in a perfect world, he'd own a cottage in Wicklow and keep bees. I told him how I'd be a florist who sold my Irish friends' honey.
As if routine now, we'd share a blanket on the couch and watch a movie. Last night was Superbad, tonight was Inception. Andrew mindlessly carded his fingers through my hair, and with the comfort that brought me mixed with the wine, I was out to it within minutes.
His beard tickled the inside of my thigh as he continued to bite and suck at the sensitive skin, eyes boring holes into mine with a devilish grin.
"C'mon, Andy," I whined, throwing my head back in frustration. I closed my legs over his head, desperate to feel his mouth on me where I needed it viscerally.
"Patience, darlin'," he tsked at me, spreading my legs wide before him again. "Look so fuckin' gorgeous right now."
"Please, just touch me," I begged, reaching a new peak of arousal that was actually causing me pain. "Anything, just fucking touch me!"
He just chuckled, locking his arms around my thighs, pulling me closer to his face. He continued to place hot, wet opened mouthed kisses along my thighs, his beard scratching over my clit for a split second, and I swore I was on the brink of orgasm immediately. I grabbed a fistful of his hair, impatience taking full control of my autonomy.
He licked a languid stripe up my clit, causing me to let out a guttural moan, arching my back beneath him. He pushed me back down by my hips, one hand easily reaching my breast as he toyed with my nipple.
"Fuck, Andy," I cried, eyes screwing shut as every single nerve ending of mine came alive.
"Look at me," he ordered, the low rumble of his voice vibrating against my core. Without warning, my orgasm rippled through me, each nerve erupting like fireworks as I chanted his name.
I woke up panting, taking a moment to realise I was laying with Andrew on the couch. And processing the fact that I actually just orgasmed in my sleep.
"What's a'matter?" His voice was soft and concerned as he turned his head to face me.
"Weird dream," I laughed breathlessly, heart still pounding in my chest. This happened far too often. I almost wanted to spill my guts and confess everything he made me feel.
"Dreamin' of me, huh?" He grinned down at me, and I felt my cheeks burn.
A moment's silence.
"What?" Please tell me I wasn't moaning his name in my sleep.
"I'm jokin'," he laughed, averting his eyes back to the TV. "Unless you were."
I laughed along too, though in my head I was screaming. 'Unless you were,' what the fuck does that mean?
The credits rolled over the screen and like routine, we got off the couch and went to our separate rooms. Except this time, my heart didn't settle, and I didn't get much sleep.
We went about our days as usual, as if I didn’t fantasise about him every waking moment. I worried that I was catching feelings, and catching them far too fast for someone who'd only just gotten out of a 6 year relationship.
I couldn’t help it. I was infatuated. Infatuated was an understatement. I was completely and utterly enamoured by Andrew. I wanted to be in his presence every moment I could. I often told little white lies so I could spend the night, even though our we remained within a strictly friends only basis.
He was kinder than any man I’d ever met, insisting on having to open every door for me, sending me off to bed with a glass of water each night, and waking me with coffee just how I liked. He was gentle and tentative, always fast at identifying cues when I was upset.
But that’s all we were - just friends.
I began to crave his touch, desperate for any opportunity to feel his skin on mine. He’d often play me a new song he’d written, and I’d watch on with hearts for eyes as his skilled fingers worked his guitar effortlessly.
I saw it in his eyes too, sure he wanted me how I wanted him. I dreamt of climbing into his lap, kissing him until my lips were swollen or until he couldn’t take it anymore and we’d need to take off our clothes to satiate our desires.
But I couldn’t.
When it felt like we were moving in that direction, I’d turn ice cold. Though my heart was begging me to love him how he deserved, my brain knew this was probably just a rebound. And someone with a heart as golden as Andy's didn’t deserve the hell grief I’d cause him.
So I brushed off each pet name as if hearing them didn’t cause my stomach to do acrobats. I treated each night on the couch as if we were simply best friends who enjoyed each others' company. As though there was no other option than spooning on the couch where his scent became hardwired into my brain. I’d act as if I couldn’t feel his hard on pressing into the small of my back most nights. I’d pretend I’d have no idea what he was really doing when he’d have to excuse himself halfway through the movie to ‘make a call.’ It’s just how it worked for us.
And often, I wondered if it was torturing him as much as it was me.
We pulled up at the venue, Andrew of course opening my door for me, offering me his hand as I stepped out onto the kerb. I thanked him and we headed in together, turning a few heads as we did so. Not that this was unusual, he was 6’6” and painfully handsome, after all. He’d also given himself quite the name, rumours of a few producers attending tonight in hopes of setting him a deal.
“Remember me when you’re famous and touring the world without me,” I fake pouted, fluttering my eyelashes at him.
“Well obviously, nobody forgets their muse,” he bumped his shoulder into mine, that cheeky grin stretched across his face. “Besides, I owe you that much for giving me something to write about.”
I nearly choked on my drink, raising my eyebrows at him. “And what songs are written about me, hm?”
“The monster mash?” He kept a straight face, giving me that duh look at the same time.
“Oh, shut up, Andrew.” I laughed, acutely aware of the man who just sat beside me. “I’m being serious! It'd make me happy to know.”
“You’ll know when you hear ‘em, baby,” he grinned, throwing back his glass of champagne. Baby. My heart leapt from me, and in that moment I was grateful that he wouldn’t have noticed the deep blush splattered across my cheeks. He was too busy claiming another round of free drinks for us.
“Please tell me that’s your brother or something,” the man sat beside me spoke up, chocolate brown eyes so endearing, thick American accent on his lips.
"I sure hope not," I joked. His face fell, and I realise how that could've been misconstrued. "No- he's not my boyfriend either. We just sing together."
He put his hands together in prayer, looking up to the roof, mouthing, 'thank you, God.' I laughed at him, shaking my head. He had dark brown curls similar to Andy's, his were just more tame and much shorter. Full lips that twisted into a dopey smile, and if I weren't so confused with my emotions, I'd have jumped into a cab and gone home with him without a second thought. "I'm Will," he introduced himself, shaking my hand.
"Y/N," I blushed when he kissed my knuckles, wondering where the hell Andy had run off to. "Where are you from?" I attempted to avert the conversation, regaining ownership of my hand.
"Colorado," he smiled, signalling to the bartender that he wanted to order another round. "And you're a singer?"
"Uh... well I sing, yes," I giggled, the three prior glasses of bubbles gone to my head. "I wouldn't label myself a singer as such."
"Well aren't you just the cutest thing," he grinned, slipping his hand onto my thigh.
"I uh," I stammered, struggling to find the words. "That's very kind," my eyes searched the room for Andy. He towered over mostly everybody wherever we were, standing out like a sore thumb. But for some reason, he was nowhere to be found right when I needed him.
"I'm only in town for the night," he leaned in close to me, his breath hot in my ear, and his hand only getting warmer on my thigh. "Once you're done your little performance, why don't you come back to my hotel and give me an encore?"
Like the Gods had intervened, a familiar calloused hand was grabbing my arm. "C'mon, we gotta go backstage." I looked up to Andy, his expression rigid, bordering on disgust and anger.
"Oh, okay," I nodded, hopping up from my stool, Will's hand quickly retracted. "Uh, see you," I smiled awkwardly, Andrew's grip still around my arm.
"Here's your drink," he let me go, handing my glass to me.
"You saved me, Andy," I laughed, glancing back at the man who'd already moved onto his next victim. "Total wanker."
"Mhm," he hummed, not even looking at me as we made our way backstage.
"Everything alright?" I prodded, his expression unchanging. He didn't reply, instead opened the door to the green room for me. We weren't at our usual bar tonight. We'd been invited to perform at a decently size theatre that just so happened to be full of producers, offering free drinks for the performers. Maybe not the best combination.
The green room was alive with seven or so other musicians, all mingling amongst each other as they awaited their turns. There was a table lined with finger food, and a minibar with premixed drinks. Andrew had made a beeline straight for the snacks table. Typical.
"Um, hello?" I whisper shouted to him, trailing behind him like a lost puppy. "Is there a reason you're ignoring me? Is it because of that bloke? Because I-"
"Yes," was all he replied, taking his food to one of the couches with him.
"Okay," I was surprised with how forward he was, sitting down beside him, honestly perplexed by his rigidity. "...Why?"
"I didn't like the way he was talking to you," he shrugged, still avoiding my eye contact. "He was disrespectful."
"So... why are you icing me out, exactly?"
"I will say the wrong things, better to say nothin'."
This was unlike any way I'd seen him act before. Cold, annoyed... jealous? Surely not.
"Well, I'm sorry I- or he made you feel this way."
"Andrew Hozier-Byrne? You're on in two minutes," one of the stage hands announced, nursing his clipboard on his hip like a baby. "And we're still going ahead with the song change?"
Andy nodded, having a quick drink of water and tossing his rubbish away.
"Song change?" I questioned, following behind him. I made sure to watch every performance of his, even if it meant being amongst the audience when I wasn't also performing.
"Oh, yeah. When I went to get you a drink, I quickly changed my song. No biggie," he shrugged, tying his hair back into a bun, slipping his cap over the top. Jesus Christ, he looked fucking edible.
"What's the song?" I pressed further, still adamant despite the backstage timer ticking '30 seconds.'
"Haven't named it," he shrugged his guitar strap over his shoulders, giving me a wry smile. "It's about you, though."
I blushed deep, unable to form words. There was no space for talking anyway; he headed out onto the stage, leaving me dumbfounded as I watched on.
He awkwardly introduced himself, as he did each night.
And then followed my undoing.
I'd be the voice who urged Orpheus when her body was found.
I'd be the choiceless hope in grief that drove him underground.
I'd be the dreadful need in the devotee that made him turn around.
And I'd be the immediate forgiveness in Eurydice.
Imagine being loved by me.
Suddenly, there was not nearly enough air behind this curtain as I watched on, awestruck.
I won't deny I've got in my mind now all the things I would do.
So I try to talk refined in fear that you find out how I'm imaginin' you.
I'd be the last shred of truth lost in the myth of true love.
I'd be the sweet feeling of release mankind now dreams of.
That's found in the last witness before the wave hits, marvelling at God.
Before he feels alone one time and marries the sea.
Imagine being loved by me.
Fuck.
My knees felt weak, sure my ears were deceiving me. Imagine being loved by me. Oh, but I do.
Sure enough, producers from many labels were flagging him down from the minute his set finished, flooding the backstage where I was waiting for him.
I ended up having to go on straight after Andrew, thankfully. I couldn't think of any words to say, and the ones I could think of were highly inappropriate. Not that he would mind, clearly.
I hung around after my set, making eye contact with Andy here and there, waving him off when he looked like he might leave the conversations for me. I was happy for him. Ecstatic. And the craving for his touch only multiplied tenfold with his subtle admission that he felt the same.
tricked ya!! i am physically incapable of writing slow burn lol i hope u enjoy what i have for u in the next chapter xx it'll be very juicy (and hopefully longer)
i've also added a taglist as per a request, lmk if you wanna be added xo
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fortheloveoffanfic · 13 days
Text
Moves
Hozier x fem!reader
Author's note: loosely based off Suki Waterhouse's Moves. It was also supposed to be SMUT, but apparently that wasn't meant to be.
Author's note 2: y'all I meant to post this earlier but got distracted.
Summary: Y/n has had feelings for Andrew for a while now, and she's pretty sure he feels the same. Can one night change everything?
Warnings: unrequited love, but also, more requited than not.
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She likes him – maybe its a little more than like, at this point. She adores the colour of his eyes, the way they’re green when its bright out, but then when they meet at dimly lit pubs or he hangs around late at night and neither of them bothers to turn on an overhead light, they’re this dark, hazel hue. She is thrilled by his laugh – not the polite courtesy chuckle he spares when someone tells a joke that isn’t even funny – she means that full bodied sound that erupts from his throat when they’re watching that one episode of that one show, the way he rocks backwards a little and rests his hand over his chest. And there’s something about the way he says her name too, that makes Y/n giddy inside, especially when she picks up his call late at night, while he’s on tour and the rest of the band is asleep but he can’t seem to keep his eyes shut without her voice being the last thing he hears before doing it.
Andrew told her that once;
"I don't think I could sleep if I tried....I need to talk to you first. Hear your voice so I can just...."
"Just what?"
He paused, hesitating, "nothing, I just like the way you sound. That's all."
Y/n could have sworn that it would have been the call that changed everything. She'd held her breath until around two am, when he finally yawned and said he was going to try to get some sleep.
He must feel the same, Y/n determined shortly after that. Because friends don’t sling their long arms around your shoulders, or kiss your forehead right after pulling you against them.
Friends don’t have moments where their lips get so close to the other’s that it won’t expend any real effort to make them to touch.
Andrew was the one to pull away that night and apologize profusely before blaming it on the liquor. She’s never told him, but she wishes he hadn’t. She thinks about it so painfully often that she swears the memory is burning a hole into her heart – the ache of what could've been, but isn’t.
Y/n is thinking about it tonight. They’re sitting on Andrew's back porch, a bottle of wine shared between them. The backyard is illuminated by the light over the wide, glass door that separates his kitchen from the deck, and the blue hued, inground lights that give the pool that sits between his house and the foliage bordering the woods a glacial glow. Off in the distance, she can hear crickets and the occasional rustle of some other, nocturnal creature moving through the trees.
The mood would be entirely romantic if it weren’t for the smell of barbeque and booze clinging to the thick, humid air. It's why they’re outside; its unusually warm and sticky for an Irish October, but Andrew has informed her its becoming typical for this time of the year. He also said that being outside helps, but Y/n thinks that was just an excuse for them to sit outside in hopes that the fresh air would sober them up.
But she doesn’t particularly mind – even if she’s been bitten by a couple mosquitoes.
Everyone else is long gone, and he'd asked her to stay back for a few more drinks while she helped him cram leftovers into his fridge. Its not unusual for her to be the only one left at his place – or vise versa – so Y/n is used to being alone in Andrew’s presence. In fact, she thinks she prefers when its just the pair of them, occupying a quiet space saying nothing but whatever pops into their somewhat inebriated minds;
“I read this poem that made me think of you.”
“I bought you a jacket, but I forgot to pack it.”
“Have you read that book I told you about?”
“Would you read this thing I wrote?” He asks after a couple hours of them going around in circles of menial chatter. Of late, everything Andrew writes is about her, and while he’s thought of telling her that more times than he can count, he can't seem to force the words out of his mouth. It isn’t even that he’s intimidated by her – that would be far too uncomplicated for an overthinker of his caliber. No.
He could never be intimidated by Y/n anyway; he’s known her for too long, too well. She’s the person that puts him most at ease; his heart doesn’t quicken when she touches his arm the way she’s touching it now as she says, “Of course, I’d love to.” In fact, the tick in his chest slows when she does that, he isn't nervous or worried or anything, he's just…. happy. And though her hands are usually so cold, Andrew swears there’s a tingle permeating the thin fabric of his grey Henley when she touches him.
Their eyes meet as Y/n promises to read what he’s written and she finds herself drawing in a shallow breath. There’s something else on the barest top of her liquor-stained tongue, but its refusing to break past her lips;
“I’ll read anything you write. I’d do anything for you, really.”
“Great, great,” Andrew beams suddenly, straightening his back before standing with purpose. “I’m gonna get it, wait here.” He doesn’t wait for Y/n to respond, not even with a nod, before disappearing into the house.
While he’s gone, Y/n tops off those sleek, stemless wine glasses with the remainder of the chilled Sauvignon Blanc and takes a sip of hers, hoping it’ll help combat the sticky heat that’s surrounding the property. She knows she probably shouldn't have anymore; her head is already fuzzy and there’s that tell tale film over her eyes. The one that makes lights stretch out like shooting stars and makes you feel like you're walking through a dream. Andrew must not be any better either, because he stumbled over all too familiar steps on his way back into the house.
“Got it,” he announces as he returns to the patio, raising the notebook over the head in triumph. Andrew is less than graceful when he retires next to her again, dropping the book into her lap. After a lengthy sip of his wine, he leans back onto his elbows. “It's the last thing in there,” his cheeks heat up, the dusty red colour creeping up his cheeks, towards his ears.
He’s a funny sort of drunk; chatty and able to make a joke of literally anything. He’s flirty too, yet somehow retaining his usual reserve. When they venture to pubs, he’ll flirt his way right into a one night stand without even realizing it, and then slink back to her side, rattling off an excuse involving the words, “ehm, well, she isn’t really my type.”
“Yeah? What is your type?” She’d ask, eyes challenging him.
He’ll look at her for a bit longer than usual, squirting his eyes a little as his waning smile fades completely. “Doesn’t matter,” he’ll eventually say dismissively, covering his words with a swing of his drink before changing the topic.
“Its not finished yet,” he mumbles as Y/n finds the page.
“It looks finished,” Y/n frowns, looking down at the way he’s signed the bottom of the page, the way he usually does after scrawling out the final words.
Andrew shakes his head, “ehm, I mean….the idea. I’m not done with the idea.”
“Oh.” They lapse into easy silence when she starts reading, meticulously scanning every line, barely restraining herself from ghosting her thumb over his hurried, untidy penmanship. Y/n can feel Andrew’s eyes on her as she reads. He's still laid back and propped on one elbow as he steadily sips his wine while she tries to get her hazy mind to comprehend everything on the page.
Its a love song or a profession – or she’s pretty fucking drunk and has lost all ability to to comprehend words.
No, its definitely a confession. A beautifully written one. Of course everything he writes is always much akin to poetry; but with this, every word is strung together like tiny bulbs in a reel of fairy lights. Each one in perfect harmony with the other. They’re carefully chosen, as if just one were missing its entire, delicate balance would be pitched into uncertainty.
“Andrew….” He sits up, draining the last of his wine as she lifts her head from the page.
“Is it bad? The worst fuckin’ thing I’ve ever written?” He chuckles sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck as he flashes her a lopsided smile.
“It's beautiful,” Y/n rasps, suddenly feeling like the air’s been knocked from her chest, or like she’s been running too fast. There’s something besides the night’s oppressive heat surrounding them, something fragile and precious. Part of her wants to say something else, she can see on his face that he’s aching for more, but Y/n is absolutely terrified that if she does, it’ll be the wrong thing and the moment will be shattered into a million little pieces, scattered across the forests behind his house by an unexpected breeze, the way it happened on a night all too similar to this one.
“But?” Andrew is the one that dares to speak, the word uttered softly and with the weight of reproach clinging to its single syllable.
God, what if he’s ruined everything? What if the reason he’s never been able to tell Y/n the way he feels is because a morsel deep within him knows she doesn’t return his feelings. Andrew doesn’t even know if she’s interested in a relationship – or anything adjacent – right now, she doesn’t talk about going on dates and or fancying anyone.
What if the reason she never talks about other men is because she’s somehow gathered how he feels and is trying to protect him from the hurt? That would be awfully cruel, but he supposes it's the kindest thing she can do without ruining their friendship.
“But….” Right before her, in a matter of seconds, a dozen emotions cross Andrew's face and Y/n realizes that, if she’d been in front of a mirror the night he told her he likes hearing her voice before he goes to sleep, this is what she might have seen reflected in it. That cautious hope, with a bit of fear sprinkled in.
Upon realizing that there's no ‘perfect’ thing to say, Y/n hastily leans forward and rests her lips on his, in a chaste, close-mouthed kiss. He’s shocked at first, she can feel it in the way he stiffens. But after another couple breaths spent like that, Andrew wraps an arm around her, flattening his palm on the center of her back. As he relaxes, Y/n deepens the kiss, deserting the book in her lap to cup his face. His beard tickles the inside of her hands, just like she’s always imagined it would, and his tongue and lips are sweet with the wine’s fruity notes.
When they break, faces only inches apart, Andrew lets out a shaking breath while Y/n holds onto hers. “God….I don’t think I would’ve ever done that,” he admits, shoulders rising and falling with deep, heavy breaths.
Sometimes he wishes he had her courage, but most times, he’s glad its hers.
A hint of a smile tugs at her kiss-swollen lips. “I know,” she laughs softly, the sound airy and musical.
Her eyes are twinkling, like two stars plucked from right over the vast bed of darkness hung over their heads. Andrew is certain that no two stars have ever shone brighter, so its fitting that they belong to her – the most dazzling person he knows. Setting his glass down, he lifts his free hand to her cheek, rough pad of his thumb tracing her lips. “I’ve been thinking about it for a damn long time,” he admits. It's hard for him to put a definite number to it, it might as well have been very soon after they met.
“Me too,” Y/n rests her hand over his wrist, offering it an affectionate squeeze.
“I think…..” he trails off, struggling to keep a firm grip on his thoughts. His imagination is running a little wild right now; his mind is already churning out thoughts of his future as it changes shape. It's funny to him how one thing can change everything else.
One kiss, and he swears he’s seeing the rest of his life. Holding it.
“Sshh, we don’t have to talk about it tonight,” Y/n whispers. Talking complicates – they’ve been talking for too damn long anyway, and knowing Andrew, his brain is already three weeks ahead of him. Its sweet actually, because every plan she’s made for her future has been built around him, and now suddenly, he’s doing the same thing. “Lets just….”
“Just what?”
“Do this,” in an instant, Y/n closes the space between them again and seals her lips over Andrew’s. That time, he responds immediately, pulling her against him until the only thing left for her to do is slide her leg over his thighs and shuffle into his lap, pressing her chest to his and draping one arm over his shoulder while she keeps her other against his cheek. The way his beard scratches the area around her mouth makes her smile, and she thinks its something she'll get used to quickly.
All of it is so close to being as commonplace his arm slung around her shoulders and the sound of his voice coming through her phone while there’s a timezone and entire ocean between them. The way his mouth moves against hers, the heat of his hands as they hold onto her waist, the sound of his voice as he says;
“I’m glad you stayed.”
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spider-chris06 · 1 year
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Do you know why Spider-Verse Miles is my favorite Spider-Man?
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He, without having a choice, had to do in two days, what took all the other Spider-Sonas in the multiverse weeks, become Spider-Man, all under the unimaginable pressure of being the successor to the previous Spider-Man of his universe, which left the bar too high, having to meet everyone else's expectations, and having to go through a tortuous journey while learning from his mentor.
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Even when the spider-gang not only didn't trust him but even seemed to dislike Miles at first (Except, of course, Gwen and Peter B, who are very special cases)
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And pressing him to see if he was ready and treating him like just a kid (Even Peni).
All so that he then went to his uncle, who was like a second father to him and someone who truly understood Miles, only to find out that he had always been a hitman, going so far as to almost end with the life of his nephew, until he realizes what he was about to do and... well, tragedy happens.
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The death of Uncle Aaron, due to the depth and history behind it, remains the most tragic "death of Uncle Ben" in all of cinema... ever.
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Miles stopped being the same since then, and even when a hurricane of emotions possessed him, he learned that no matter what, Spider-Man always gets up and keeps going, at the same time he learned to take his leap of faith. Before becoming Spider-Man he had a normal and happy life, but after being bitten by that spider his whole life fell apart, but of course, Miles is someone truly strong and full of determination thanks to the people close to him.
In two days, he surpassed almost the entire Spider-gang, and in a year and a half he become almost a professional as Spider-Man, even giving lessons to everyone else, and making it clear to Gwen and the others what truly means being Spider-Man, not standing by crossed arms while someone is in danger, but trying to do everything you can to save everyone, doing both things, even when it seems impossible, Spider-Man should always try, because everything it's possible.
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At the same time that Miles felt stabbed in the back by the same people to whom he wanted to dedicate his entire future just to see them again since he felt alone and sad inside in the world without them, and, specially, without Gwen.
And let me remind something, Miles actually thinks she doesn't even love him and only sees him as a friend, but he still wants to see her
On the ATSV betrayal, he release all that hurricane of emotions that he had to swallow and accumulate inside during ITSV and during that entire year and a half for not having time for ALL those things said before, leading him to have anxiety and panic attacks (Something confirmed in the synopsis of the short "The Spider Within")
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All so that they later reveal to him that he was a mistake, an anomaly, that he should never have been Spider-Man, that he killed the Peter of his universe, causing everything that gave MEANING to his life fell down in just a few minutes, leaving Miles more traumatized, mortified and with more trust issues than he already had before.
He really became one of the most tragic character of all the saga (Along with Peter B and, put it in some way, Miguel O' Hara)
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And just because Miles looks with a cool and chill personality doesn't mean he's any less traumatized and mortified on the inside (An example is Andrew Garfield's Spider-Man).
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Even though in the comics that nickname is only used because that is what his universe is called, in the movies, on the other hand, even though there are people on the internet who deny the fact that he is currently becoming an unstoppable phenomenon that is marking an entire generation and will mark future generations, Miles Morales proved to be, without a doubt, the Ultimate Spider-Man.
As a bonus, even though she always screwed up with everyone around her, both the living and the dead, Gwen showed that she really loves Miles and that he truly is the love of her life, however, needless to say, she has a lot of work to do in her redemption arc to be able to fix things with Miles, which will be very difficult but not impossible, even more so taking into account all the hate she received for everything that happened in ATSV.
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Now she has to PROVE not only to him, but to all of us viewers, that she truly deserves to be with Miles, that they can have a life together by her own merit, and that all the hate towards her after the ATSV release it's truly unfair.
However, I have to be realistic, there are characters like Peni or even Peter B who should not be anything more than simple 'acquaintances' or 'partners' for Miles, since, with what they did, the term "Friend" It's too big for them.
In any case, Miles has the last word.
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End Game 2
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, stalking, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: Your gaming buddy asks to meet up but it doesn’t go exactly as planned.
Characters: Andy Barber
Note: we're here to boo Andrew.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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“So, you’re coming?” Jacob’s voice quavers with excitement. You can’t imagine how he’d sound if you said no. You hate letting people down, it seems to be all you've ever done.
“Uh, yeah,” you say as you steer around the track; opting for some MarioKart over Minecraft that night, “boss says it’s no problem to get the days off. Just have to make it up after. Is... Is everything still good on your end?” 
“Oh yeah, sure thing,” he assures buoyantly, “I can’t wait. Did you still wanna split the airBnB?” 
“Actually, I got a place to stay for the night then I’ll take the early bus back,” you explain as Princess Peach knocks you off the track, “argh!” 
“Right, that’s good,” he says, “good to know you won’t be stranded out there.” 
“Mhm,” you use your boost to catch up to Peach and get your revenge. You don’t mention that Kara will be with you at the con. You just want to be sure this isn’t something wonky. “It’ll be nice to get out of town. My grandma will probably be happy to have the place to herself.” 
“Yeah,” he scoffs, “what’s her problem anyway?” 
“Just the way she is. She likes her space,” you shrug, “I don’t know, I don’t think she expected to be raising her granddaughter...” 
“Ah, yeah, I guess that would be stressful,” he says, “still, seems like you’re not too bad to be around. Got a job, go to school, all that. Think my dad would love it if I put in half as much effort.” 
“Yeah? You make him sound like a hard ass.” 
“Can be. Lawyer, so kinda his schtick,” he chuckles. 
“Oo, fancy,” you snort. Maybe if either of your parents had been lawyers, you wouldn’t be living off your grandma’s resent.  
“I guess. Never really see him that much...” he grumbles. 
“Hm, well, no winning, is there?” You mutter. 
“Not really,” he sighs and hisses, “ugh, Toad!” 
You chuckle and cross the finish line. A respectable second. You wait for him to finish and stifle a yawn. 
“Tired?” He asks. 
“Little.” 
“Me too, long day,” he groans, “neck’s killing me.” 
“Oh, what’d you do--” 
“You know, I’m-- an idiot. Was messing around on my bike.” 
“Of course,” you snicker, “well, if you don’t mind, I’m gonna sign off. I don’t wanna keep my grandma up and my head’s starting to go.” 
“Sure, I gotta get up early anyway,” he sounds less than enthused. “Good night.” 
“You too.” 
“Tomorrow?” 
“Can’t, work. Day after?” 
“Okay, I’ll make it work,” he confirms, “I’m excited about meeting up. Aren’t you?” 
“Yep,” you try not to show your doubt. You’re still not really sure about everything. 
“Can’t wait,” he rasps and the silt in his tone makes you shiver. 
“Yeah, er, bye then,” you hit end session and take off your headset, your ears tender and a bit sweaty. Even if it is awkward, at least you’ll get to hang with Kara for a bit. You haven’t seen her since grad. 
🎮
You’re already exhausted and you’re not even inside yet. The line for the convention is bustling and your excitement keeps you going as you and Kara gab away and move with the slow crawl. The sun beams down and has you sweating, though you could easily blame that on your nerves too. 
“So, this Jacob... is he cute?” She winks. 
“Kara,” you roll your eyes, “it’s not like that. Really. We just game.” 
“Oh yeah. But do you want it to be more?” She teases. 
“You know I’m not really into all that. I don’t have room for a boyfriend in my life.” 
“So boring. Never change, girlie,” she nudges you playfully. “But really, that’s smart. Calvin is too much. I’m thinking of cutting him loose.” 
“Again?” You squint. 
“Not my fault he keeps coming back,” she giggles. 
You peer around, searching out a familiar face amid the ocean of strangers. You haven’t seen Jacob yet. You’re almost hoping he doesn’t show up. Then again, why wouldn’t he? He paid for you to be here. The reminder of the fact strikes guilt in your chest. 
You pause as your eyes catch another pair, further back in the queue. An older man with a beard. He stands out among the crowd. He wears a tidy button-up where most wear graphic tees or cosplay attire. He stares for a moment before he turns away and looks down, probably at whatever kid dragged him there. 
“Well, what are you going to do if he sees you and falls in love?” Kara asks. 
“Whatever,” you roll your eyes. 
“If he’s a nerd like you, how could he not?” 
“Hey,” you frown. 
“What? You’re like the sexy gamer girl type. Isn’t that what dudes want?” She shrugs. “Let me see his pic again. He’s a skinny little thing. He’d definitely be into you.” 
“Urgh, stop,” you cross your arms. 
“Sorry, I’m only playing. You just seem so nervous, I’m trying to loosen you up.” 
“I know,” you puff, “it’s just... I should’ve just said no. This is stupid. I don’t know why I even agreed.” 
“To get out of that shithole,” she snips. “Why do you think I hauled ass the minute I popped by grad cap on?” 
“Mm, yeah, I just hope... do you think he really wants that? Maybe I gave him the wrong idea. Oh, Kar, I really didn’t mean to lead him on.” 
“No, no, I’m sure it’s nothing you did if he does. I mean, he’s probably a virgin so...” 
“That’s mean,” you pout. 
“What, so are you,” she laughs. 
“Exactly,” you shake your head and drop your arms, a buzz jittering your skirt pocket.  
You look down at yourself as you slide your phone free. That was probably a bold choice but it’s so damn hot out. Besides, your Pikachu tee is loose enough to counteract the denim sheath. You turn the screen up, shading it with your hand as you read. 
‘Sorry, not going to make it. Something came up. 🙁' 
You frown and reread the message. Really? You came all the way here, took time off of work, and he’s flaking? 
“What’s up?” Kara asks as she clicks her manicured nails impatiently and stands on her toes, trying to see past the bodies ahead. 
“He just cancelled,” you mutter and type in your reply. 
‘Oh no. Hope it’s nothing bad. Maybe another time.’ 
You hit send and drop your shoulders. You’re surprised how disappointed you are. More so about the wasted effort than anything. Even if you are a bit relieved, it’s shitty. 
“Ah, bullshit!” Kara sneers, “what the hell? What did he say?” She reaches for your phone and you hold it out of her grasp. “That fucker.” 
“It’s probably not his fault. Shit happens.” 
“Babe, you’re gonna settle for a lot of nonsense if you keep that attitude. I’d be friggin pissed if I was you. He brings you all the way here and now he’s too good for you. I bet he saw some cute girl in line and she smiled at him once so now he’s ditching,” she scowls, “I hate boys.” 
“I’m sure... it’s nothing,” you say glumly as your phone vibes again. 
‘I’m real sorry. I hope you still have a good time. Take lots of pictures.’ 
You don’t respond. You lock your phone and put it back in your pocket. It never feels good to be stood up. Even then. 
“You know what, screw him,” Kara snarls, “let’s go in there and buy you the cutest plushie you can find. Hell, maybe you can find an even cuter guy.” 
“Kar,” you warn her. 
“Fine, just the plushie. Maybe two,” she trills, “forget that loser.” 
🎮
The chaos of the convention wipes away the dark cloud over you. You’re almost thankful that Jacob gave you the opportunity to catch up with Kara. You didn’t realise how much you missed her. It’s perfect day where you can forget about your grandmother and your lame job and everything else. 
You rush around from booth to booth. You look at fanart, handmade figures, and stuffies. You’re mindful of your wallet and how empty it really is. You’ll get one thing and a snack. That’s all you can afford.  
As the hours roll by, your early morning bus ride and time spent standing out in the hot sun catch up to you. You feel your muscles starting to ache and your eyelids turning fuzzy. You yawn as you shuffle behind Kara as she waits in line to get a signature from the one D-list celeb she’s heard of. You’d get one too but it’s way too expensive. 
“Hey,” you rub your cheek, “mind if I sit and wait? I wanna grab a soft pretzel anyway.” 
“Sure,” she agrees easily, “looks like it’s gonna be a while.” 
“Want me to bring you a drink or something?” You offer. 
“Nah, just text me where you are so I can find you,” she says. 
You leave her reluctantly. You’d rather not be wandering alone through the hordes but your feet are killing you and your stomach’s been roaring for the last hour. You stand in line for the pretzel stall and get yours with cinnamon sugar and syrup. Messy but delicious. 
You find a table in the corner and settle in. You put your phone beside the napkin and tear apart the doughy goodness. Your phone lights up with a notification from the merge game you like to play and you see several other icons; missed messages. 
You focus on your snack, savouring each bite, as your eyes drift around the crowded centre. You can barely see some of the booths as hordes cluster around. Some cosplayers bat at each other with toy swords as children fight over the arcade machines. You’re overwhelmed by the sheer amount of activity all around. 
You put your head down trying to block out the lights and noise. You feel yourself getting overstimulated. It’s like when you’re in the lecture hall and suddenly you can hear every sniff, sneeze, and keystroke. You close your eyes as you wipe your fingertips on the edge of the napkin, only half-finished your pretzel. 
“Looks good,” a deep voice cuts through the blaring din. 
As you recognise the timbre, your heart squeezes and the world pinpoints at the centre of your skull. You open your eyes and slowly raise your head. You blink dumbly at the unfamiliar man stood in front of you. You think you’ve seen him before, or at least he sticks out from the typical convention attendee. 
It isn’t that he’s too old, there’s lots of older geeks hanging around but they have neckbeards and greasy combovers. His hair is tidy and his beard trimmed close. His clothing also lacks the typical Dorito dust or anime character. You remember, he was outside in the line. 
“Uh, hello?” You utter. 
“Sorry I’m late,” he says as he pulls out the chair across from you. He sits as your insides plunge. You know his voice. 
“Jacob?” You murmur in shock. How? Why? This isn’t the stringy teenager you met online. 
He nods, his jaw tensing, and he crosses an arm over the table, pointing to your half-eaten pretzel, “what’d you get on yours? I can’t decide between sweet or savoury.” 
“Who... are you?” You croak, head spinning as your eyes prick. You knew something was weird. You knew you weren’t talking to Jacob or whoever that boy was in the pictures. 
He takes a breath and lets it out slowly. As his chest deflates, you do too. He’s older than you, bigger than you, and by the looks of him, a lot better off. Why the hell would he be chatting with you? Why would he lie to you? 
“You’re right. I’m not Jacob,” he confesses, the colour draining from his face. He steeples his fingers and considers his next words carefully. You sit back and hug yourself defensively. This is fucked. “My name is Andy, Jacob is my son.” 
“Your son?” You eke out, “why-- why would you lie?” 
He cringes and takes another breath, “he was my son,” he corrects himself, “he... passed.” 
You feel like you’ve been struck. Your mouth falls open, stunned. Not only did he hide behind his son’s photos, but his dead son’s. Oh, god. You feel sick. No, you feel stupid. 
“Look, please, just hear me out. I just—it wasn’t meant to go on this long. When I first lied to you, it was supposed to be that one time. I was... I was lost. I just lost Jacob and I was going through his things. I started playing because I missed him. I wanted to feel like he was still there--” 
“No, no, you got on discord and you started talking to me. As him!” Your voice shakes and your eyes tinge. “That’s not just missing him.” 
“I know, you’re right. I lied but... I got lonely playing by myself so yes, I went onto that discord. You were nice. You didn’t call me a noob or whatever. And... and after work, looking forward to hearing your voice, it got me through a lot of pain. Being alone in that house after so long, I couldn’t cope--” 
“So you lied to me?” You stand and snatch your phone, nauseous to the core, “you manipulated me. How do you know—if you had just been you that I would’ve been any different? If you just wanted to play games, to be friends--” 
“I was scared--” 
“I don’t care if you were scared,” you hiss as you stomp forward. “You’re an adult.” 
He stands and blocks your path. You recoil, put off by his height. He’s a lot bigger on his feet. 
“Please, move or... I’ll scream,” you breathe. 
“You don’t have to do that. Just hear me out,” he pleads. 
“I don’t want to hear anything else from you, Jacob. Or Andy. Or whoever you really are,” you sneer, “move.” 
He shudders and hangs his head. He makes himself seem small as his shoulders round and he backs out of your way. You bite down and march past him.  
You need to get to a bathroom. Now. You’re going to spew up your guts. More important, you need to get yourself together before you go find Kara. She can’t know this happened. It’s too embarrassing. 
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rs-hawk · 7 months
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Love this post by @microsff
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You went to a garage sale to see what you could find. You had been working on so many projects that you were hoping to get parts for cheap, when you saw an Andrew the Android. He was sitting on a table, swinging his feel that barely scraped the ground. He was an early version. It was easy to tell by his stocky build, and the way he barely looked humanoid. Newer ones looked more human.
“How much is he?” you asked the man sitting by a lock box, pointing to Andrew.
“You don’t want that one,” the man grinned, showing off all his teeth in a way that made you frown. “It’s a weird one. Sent it up to clean my gutters in a storm, you know, testing out that ‘waterproof’ feature.”
“Uh-huh,” you said unsurely, shifting on your feet slightly.
“And it got struck by lightening. Been odd ever since. Telling me to call it ‘Andy’ and asking me questions. Didn’t think these ones of them were meant to be so annoyingly human.”
“I still want him. How much?” you insisted.
You and the man go back and forth for a bit before you finally handed him a small wad of cash. A giddy feeling fluttered in your chest as you approached him. He looked up at you, a blank look on his expressionless face.
“Hi there. I’m Y/N. I just bought you,” you explained as you offered him your hand. “I’m so excited that I found an early Andrew. You’re one of my favorite androids of all time.”
“Andy, please,” was his response. He held up his hands, no, claws, as if to apologize for not shaking yours. “It’s nice to meet you.”
You brought him home, and he settled in quickly. One day, he greeted you at the door.
“Can you make me hands?” he asked.
“Why? Your claws work better, and you can swap them out with other attachments,” you asked back as you started gathering things for the project you were working on.
“I want to pet your cat.”
“You can’t even feel her fur though.”
“But she can. And I want her to like me petting her.”
You paused, thinking for a moment. “Alright. I can build you hands.”
“I also want to learn guitar. Can you make sure I have good fingers?”
That made a grin crack your face. “Yes, I’ll make you good fingers.”
You two lived in good harmony for awhile, until one day, he showed you a book. “Why is one character being called ‘they’?”
“Oh, because they’re non-binary.”
He nodded as he went back to the book. “I think that fits me better than he.”
You nodded back at them, scrolling through your phone. “Okay.”
Another day, they come to you, holding a book with a picture of a flute. “Can you build me a mouth? And move my port?”
“You want to learn to play the flute?” you asked curiously, looking at the book, their fingers curling around the pages.
“Yes.”
“Alright.”
They took to the flute much better than the guitar, but you don’t say anything. Even when they wake you up in the middle of the night. They’re still not very good, but you enjoy hearing their progress.
Yet again, they come to you, showing you a magazine with synthetic skin and hair on an android. They don’t say anything as they hand it to you, looking down.
“Okay. I’ll take you in and let you pick everything out,” you say as you hand them back the magazine.
“Do you think I’ll really be able to feel?” they asked nervously, rolling the magazine up into a tube.
“Maybe. Why?”
They looked away, and you thought if they were human, they would have blushed. “I want to pet your cat.”
“You pet her all the time.”
“I want to be able to feel it too.”
As always, you nodded. “It’s worth a shot at least then, right?”
Andy went in many times for many more modifications on top of the ones they asked you to make for them. Over the span of months, but in a way that hit you all at once, you fell in love with them. The way they laughed. How excited they were to learn. How excited they were to just be.
“Hey, Y/N! Andy! Welcome in yous guys. I got the room set up. Andy’s got a surprise for you, Y/N. You’re gonna let Andy pick out everything as always, yeah?” the mechanic greeted the two of you as you stepped inside.
You thought it was a little odd she just kept saying “Andy” instead of “they” but you brushed it off. “Yeah Sal. It’s Andy’s body. They can do what they want.”
Andy and Sal shared a grin before you were ushered into the waiting room. A couple hours later, a dark haired woman came out, her hair styled into a neat bun on the top of her head. Her eyes were green, your favorite color. There was a softness to her face and features, as well as a stockiness to her build. She reminded you of Andy, in a way, so you returned her smile.
Sal came up behind you, gesturing to the woman. “What do you think?”
“Oh she’s lovely, perfectly stunning, but you know I’m just waiting on Andy,” you said with a frown and furrow of your brows.
“Hi Y/N,” the woman said shyly, looking down at her feet.
“Andy?”
“I mean, I guess, but I want a new name.”
“What is it?”
“I don’t know yet.”
You tilted your head, looking at her curiously. “But you already know every name that there is to know.”
A sweet smile touched her lips as she walked over to you, taking your hands in hers. “I don’t know how they sound when you say them yet.”
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rippedlovelines · 2 months
Text
the merits of the twinyards learning to show their love for each other in slow stilted actions r a lot. for me. to me. little things. aaron buying andrew his favorite sweets because he remembers his picky eating tendencies; andrew throwing a blanket over aaron passed out in the living room after pulling an all-nighter. opening up more during their sessions w bee, angry accusations n cold statements melting into talking abt hurts n what shaped them growing up which becomes even conversation n learning abt each other more ( to bee’s not so small delight.)
the glares n perpetual scowls aaron once wore in andrew presence turn into smth more knowing n relaxed. he thinks one day he’ll be able to forgive andrew for tilda’s death; knowing the reasons behind it now, how andrew did it for his sake. (when he tells andrew that he thought he was going to die, during the days he was locked in that bathroom, his voice is raw. andrew’s face shutters. then, he says in what is possibly the closest thing to regret aaron has ever heard from andrew, “If I could make what you experienced during that time less painful, I would.” n really what’s done is done n there’s no going back, but aaron needed some sort of closure, smth, anything ! so he turns away n tries not to shake from all the emotions of what he’s feeling. andrew sits there n waits for him to return to normal.) andrew begins to make eye contact w aaron, he stops looking thru him—choosing to acknowledge his existence, instead. he sees how aaron is making an effort, clumsily attempting to prove that he isn’t letting andrew go, in spite of everything. (“ I’m not going anywhere. I hate you, but I’m still not going anywhere.” aaron says defiantly during one session where andrew said smth abt aaron going on his merry way after graduation. it shocks andrew. he stills suddenly n it’s v hard for him to look away from aaron’s blazing eyes. “Do what you like.” andrew replies stiffly. it’s acceptance n permission wrapped up in one.)
they learn how to mend the fragments of their broken past so they can both move forward. aaron releasing his resentment of andrew slowly but surely. andrew allowing himself to think of aaron as more than someone who will disappear one day, someone permanent in his life. they talk to each other !!! they meet up to do things—in complete silence sometimes, with small comments here n there in other times. after graduation, andrew goes to play on the east coast while aaron does med school elsewhere. it’s a big change. it’s difficult, often times. aaron will look next to himself with words on the tip of his tongue, then realize andrew is not around. andrew will look behind him as he traverses the streets of nyc, hand outstretched as tho to hold onto smth, a shirt perhaps, forgetting that aaron is not there.
But!!!
the two of them call each other once a year,month, week— the occurrences gradually becoming more n more frequent. 3 years pass by. andrew is in town for a game. afterwards, he meets up w aaron for a drink. it’s quiet. not uncomfortable. they take each other in n note how separation n time away has made the other different. aaron is in a good mood , hair shaved close down, face full, n nothing like the raggedy n hollowed boy andrew met years ago. aaron in turn observes how andrew’s eyes r half-lidded w smth one would call happiness if it were anyone else, but it’s js content for andrew; his arms tattooed beneath his armbands, n a looseness to his shoulders that aaron could not have ever believed andrew to posses once upon a time. after some small talk n a small congratulations from aaron for andrew’s team win, andrew slips a piece of paper out of his jacket pocket n shoves it at aaron, face blank. it’s a new team contract. it’s in the same city as aaron’s med school :) aaron decidedly does not smile, but sources say his lips quirked up a bit. they order cheesecake. everything is fine. they r brothers. they walk out together.
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